Nomadic Churching
Last week, church was held in an unused wing of an exclusive, members-only, white cloth-covered tables, be-careful-you-don’t-damage-anything, we-have-to-maintain-the-status-quo club that huddles, misplaced, on the edge of the let’s-do-everything-to-buck-the-status-quo-and-flaunt-our-sinfulness-in-trendy-style neighbourhood we want to connect with. The security at the entrance wouldn’t have welcomed the guests we hope to attract, even had such guests gained the courage to go near the doors, so it was good the club decided we were unwelcome tenants.
This week, we gathered in the basement of a Legion Hall. We worshipped God with professional dartboards before us and a large bingo board to our left. Under the bingo board were stacks of skeletal chairs denuded of seats and backs and under our feet were well-worn asphalt tiles likely glued in place before many of the regular inhabitants—beer-guzzling, dart-throwing, aging veterans and their companions—were born. The acoustic ceiling tiles sagged as though weary of holding the light fixtures, the walls were covered with cheap panelling and the children’s ministry area was separated from the adults by a sheet hung from the rafters.
Last week, everything seemed too formal, rigid and “churchy”. Today, church felt more casual and home-like. I liked it. We even had guests! One was an older woman the pastor had encountered in “the village” and had invited to attend. Complete with walker, she had somehow managed to negotiate the basement stairs. Another was a middle-aged couple who, on the strength of celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary last month, won a duffle bag with Christian CDs and books inside. Last week two other visitors each won such a bag by sitting on chairs that had red tags on their undersides.
This week, I won a book by knowing two of the several pieces of art used to introduce the sermon, “Creation” by Michelangelo and “The Scream” by Edvard Munch. We’re studying Ephesians 2:10, “For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
Last week, we looked at the brushstroke of Worship. Worship is not something you do but is who you are. It’s not something you listen to but a state of being in your heart. It’s something we give, not receive. It isn’t easy; it comes out of sacrifice. It’s not self-control but God-centred. It’s not something to feel but Someone to experience. I would argue that worship is coming to God even when one is feeling the way I did yesterday (see previous blog entry). Worship happens not just when we’re full of joy. It is an offering of ourselves even when we’re ugly and dirty.
This week, the brushstroke we examined is that of Love. Jesus’ interaction with others was personal, relational, confrontational, intellectual and intentional. We were invited to participate in the sermon by giving examples of times we’ve interacted in love in one of these ways. It occurred to me that one intentional way I can begin to interact with people of “the village” is by spending my Tuesdays between work and an evening class at one of its coffee shops, pubs or restaurants.
This week, we were also challenged by one of our group who has recently returned from two months in Africa ministering to AIDS orphans who, without adults in their shanty homes built of garbage and no beds but the dirt floor, have no means of gaining an education in a place where schools cost money. She wants to return and help them develop the means to raise the money they need; she wants to give them an education. And so our tiny church with fewer than 30 in attendance, including children and guests, is looking for ways to help the disenfranchised both in our city and on the other side of the world.
This week, we met where the feet of veterans, which have touched the soil of many lands, now shuffle below the soil of this land. One of our group gathered a handful of that dirt and passed it around for all of us to take a portion. This is our territory. This dirt is what we were before God redeemed us. I will be putting my bit of dirt in my prayer room as a reminder to pray for those in “the village” who are in need of this same redemption.
Next week, we don’t know where we’ll be. Perhaps we’ll return to the Legion. Maybe the building we’ve been negotiating for will come available. There’s no doubt, however, that we will continue to stand on the territory God is giving us. There we will worship God and love the dirty.
This week, we gathered in the basement of a Legion Hall. We worshipped God with professional dartboards before us and a large bingo board to our left. Under the bingo board were stacks of skeletal chairs denuded of seats and backs and under our feet were well-worn asphalt tiles likely glued in place before many of the regular inhabitants—beer-guzzling, dart-throwing, aging veterans and their companions—were born. The acoustic ceiling tiles sagged as though weary of holding the light fixtures, the walls were covered with cheap panelling and the children’s ministry area was separated from the adults by a sheet hung from the rafters.
Last week, everything seemed too formal, rigid and “churchy”. Today, church felt more casual and home-like. I liked it. We even had guests! One was an older woman the pastor had encountered in “the village” and had invited to attend. Complete with walker, she had somehow managed to negotiate the basement stairs. Another was a middle-aged couple who, on the strength of celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary last month, won a duffle bag with Christian CDs and books inside. Last week two other visitors each won such a bag by sitting on chairs that had red tags on their undersides.
This week, I won a book by knowing two of the several pieces of art used to introduce the sermon, “Creation” by Michelangelo and “The Scream” by Edvard Munch. We’re studying Ephesians 2:10, “For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
Last week, we looked at the brushstroke of Worship. Worship is not something you do but is who you are. It’s not something you listen to but a state of being in your heart. It’s something we give, not receive. It isn’t easy; it comes out of sacrifice. It’s not self-control but God-centred. It’s not something to feel but Someone to experience. I would argue that worship is coming to God even when one is feeling the way I did yesterday (see previous blog entry). Worship happens not just when we’re full of joy. It is an offering of ourselves even when we’re ugly and dirty.
This week, the brushstroke we examined is that of Love. Jesus’ interaction with others was personal, relational, confrontational, intellectual and intentional. We were invited to participate in the sermon by giving examples of times we’ve interacted in love in one of these ways. It occurred to me that one intentional way I can begin to interact with people of “the village” is by spending my Tuesdays between work and an evening class at one of its coffee shops, pubs or restaurants.
This week, we were also challenged by one of our group who has recently returned from two months in Africa ministering to AIDS orphans who, without adults in their shanty homes built of garbage and no beds but the dirt floor, have no means of gaining an education in a place where schools cost money. She wants to return and help them develop the means to raise the money they need; she wants to give them an education. And so our tiny church with fewer than 30 in attendance, including children and guests, is looking for ways to help the disenfranchised both in our city and on the other side of the world.
This week, we met where the feet of veterans, which have touched the soil of many lands, now shuffle below the soil of this land. One of our group gathered a handful of that dirt and passed it around for all of us to take a portion. This is our territory. This dirt is what we were before God redeemed us. I will be putting my bit of dirt in my prayer room as a reminder to pray for those in “the village” who are in need of this same redemption.
Next week, we don’t know where we’ll be. Perhaps we’ll return to the Legion. Maybe the building we’ve been negotiating for will come available. There’s no doubt, however, that we will continue to stand on the territory God is giving us. There we will worship God and love the dirty.
posted by Magdaleine at 8:36 PM
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