Longing for Community

For a long time, I did the thing of conforming to the communities I thought I wanted to belong to.

I bent myself into uncomfortable, unsustainable shapes. I learned the language and said the expected words, many of which I could not really hold to in my heart. I performed the expected rituals at the allotted times and in the prescribed ways.

Life experiences have shown me that people are people. We accept and reject others almost at whim, for any reason and for no reason and for the basest of reasons. When the community gave up on me (or when I felt like they had, for a while, I gave up on community entirely. I couldn’t keep with the work of trying to conform.

For a while, I gave up on community entirely. I couldn’t keep with the work of trying to conform.

But I long for a community. Not one that I have to bend myself to meet their desires, their needs. But one that accepts me, as I am. That accepts my family, as we are.

It’s surprisingly difficult to find. Or, has it always been like that?

I’ve been doing some thinking about the kind of group I want to connect to. I have a few ideas:

• The group should really, truly, welcome all people. Indiscriminately. No matter their background.
  I don’t care their gender or what pronouns they want to use. I don’t care who they date or marry. I don’t care how recent their birthday was or how long ago it was. I don’t care where they were born or how much money they or their family made or make.
• The group should value peace.
• The group should support one another through celebrations and griefs, through times of plenty and times of want through needs of masking and freedoms to hug.
• The group should seek out the input and leadership from among its whole, great variety (see the first bullet). We each have a unique perspective to contribute to the whole.
• The group should pursue justice relentlessly.
• The group should hold none as “first among equals”.
• The group should show mercy as often as the opportunity to do so arises, in whatever form that opportunity presents itself.
• The group should seek to raise up those who are falling behind in whatever way or measure might find the want: economically, socially, mentally, emotionally, and so on.

Those are just first thoughts. Perhaps you have some of your own? What would you look for in a community.

Confession

This former preacher hasn’t prayed in years. Not even at the dinner table. (The kids took that over in my silence.)

The truth is I’ve been angry. This wasn’t what I was sold. I did all the things. Marked all the boxes. Completed all the prerequisites. Walked the journey.

But, like Madonna’s Eva Peron in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Evita, I did not wind up where I intended to be.

And I grew angry and resentful. I grew scared. Did I mishear? Did I make up what I thought was my calling? If I messed that up, could I even really hear God?

So I gave up even trying.

I left the disciplines of scripture reading and prayer. I gave myself over to whatever and wherever I found myself. And I nursed my anger. I withdrew from church. I could not find a place to serve. I gave up even wanting a place.

And I spent years this way.

But today, I prayed. For the first time in years. I don’t really remember how. I’m not sure I ever really knew.

Today, I prayed this simple prayer. Over and over.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

I feel like I can spend a lifetime with this.

Maybe I will.

Let those with eyes

Let them see 

in full bloom

Winter gives way to spring, which bursts forth in vibrant colors all around.  

Life works the same way. It ebbs and flows in seasons. Warm and fun, crisp and muted, cold and unforgiving, then thawed and renewed for warmth and fun.

Wherever you find yourself, keep moving forward. Each season has its wonders and memories. And each season passes. Really, they do.

A popular book insists that winter is coming. True, but so, then, is summer once again.

 

Cost of Winning

As we pay the price of obedience, we can be sure that every unanswered prayer, every short-term loss, plays its part in the long-term certainty of victory in Christ. It’s just that we never realized that winning could sometimes hurt like hell.

• Pete Greig, God on Mute, p. 172

Whatever you are facing, whatever darkness life brings your way, remember Romans 8:28. The end is already assured. God wins. And so do all on His side.

Engaging the Silence

“Engaging the Silence” by Pete Greig

first
there is
      prayer
and where there is prayer
there are
      questions
and where there are questions
there may be
      silence
but silence may be
more than
      absence
silence
may be presence
      muted
silence
may not be nothing but
      something
to explore
defy accuse
      engage
and
this is
      prayer
and where there is prayer
there may yet be
      miracles…

poem found in Pete Greig’s God On Mute, p. 29