Sitting in the café across the street, eyeing people as they
walked through the open doors of the building I had passed 1000 times before, I
could feel a little bit of anxiety building up in my chest and sneaking its way
up my throat. Why was I so nervous? It’s just Church. I used to go to Church all the time. It’s not like I was going into a stranger’s
house.
Or was it? Church is,
after all, the Lord’s house. But was He
really a stranger? Aside from the random
wedding, baptism, funeral or Holiday service I had not been a regular
Churchgoer since 1986. I became a confirmed
Catholic in 1984, and slowly began to pull away from the Church after
that. Call it teenage rebellion or just
plain apathy, I decided at the time there was no place for it. That is not to say I didn’t maintain an open
channel to God (you can read my previous blog to get the lowdown on that.) However, I have decided that at this point in
my life that channel needs to be a two-way tributary; I want to make more room
in my life to give my spiritual beliefs room to grow. I don’t want the Lord to be a stranger to me
anymore.
So on a blustery yet sunny Sunday morning I took a deep
breath, gathered my belongings, threw my half-consumed latte into the bin and
made my way across the street and through the open doors, feeling very much
like I used to feel on the first day of school.
A myriad of thoughts circled in my head: Will they like me? Will I make any friends? Will I know what to do?
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but what I saw was kind
of cool: smiling people milling about in the lobby, welcoming folks into the Service,
shaking hands and freely giving hugs. A
young woman welcomed me and handed me a pamphlet, which I perused after taking
my seat in the last row. Although I was
game, I was still timid.
Hmm…haven’t I seen that on the side of a Metro bus?
I looked up just in time to see the band take the
stage. They took up the entire stage.
Wait…where’s the altar?
Where’s the pulpit? I’m so
confused.
Downbeat happened at about 9:05. Yes, downbeat. Was I at Church or the Crocodile?
More confusion set in but I just decided to roll with it.
Attendees stood up en masse to join in on the festivities;
yes, it was like a party was happening right there. No pomp and circumstance, no procession down
the aisle, no smell of incense wafting in the air. Some
sang along; others reached their hands up towards the ceiling in prayer. From my position on the aisle in the
back row, I could see a petite Asian woman in the front, about my Mom’s age, in
a purple outfit topped with sparkles; arms extended upwards dancing along to
the beat. I smiled. She was so….free.
About the third song in, a youngish guy in a car-length wool
coat, with a hoodie and blue jeans underneath took the stage and introduced
himself as the Campus Pastor. The music
never stopped, but he invited the crowd to take the opportunity to introduce
themselves to each other and welcome visitors into the Church. The woman next to me smiled and extended her
hand, as did her husband. The gentleman
across the aisle stepped over and shook my hand as well. I took a deep breath and started to relax.
The music continued…these were not traditional Hymns or
prayers. These were foot stomping,
dance-worthy pop songs. My confusion
subsided as I started to take everything in and just accept the fact that my
idea of Church to this point, was not in play.
This was different. Most
different was the fact this Church building was just one of three that were
networked together. The officiating Pastor
was actually in another town, but his sermon was broadcast to our
location. He, at least, was not wearing
a hoodie.
His sermon was fascinating.
He preached about Luke 19:1-10; Jesus Comes to Zacchaeus’ House. I’ve read this before, but what I never had
the benefit of was someone teaching me what it meant to me. This is something I believe a lot of people
struggle with, regardless of denomination.
How does the Bible apply to us in our modern-day lives? Sitting there, listening to the Pastor speak
poetically to the story and its current application was probably the singlemost
enlightening moment I have had on this journey thus far. It was enough to make me want to be there,
and more importantly make me want to return there.
When the service was over, I looked at the clock and astonished
at how much time had passed – it was already 10:30AM. As I walked out of the building an hour and a
half after entering, a smile crept across my face for I knew I would be back
again very soon.
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