I am not usually one who is big on seeking out new experiences. In fact - I kind of HATE it. I am a wall flower by nature and a self proclaimed extroverted-introvert. There for, my "comfort zone" is usually very small and I am in control of what happens there.
Church is a comfort zone for me. I have been "in church" all my life and have worked at a church for almost half my life. I am VERY comfortable here. I know what it looks like, I know what is supposed to happen and there is control. But God has been changing that zone of late. The once controllable world I call church has become less so.
Last Sunday was one of the rare occasions I find myself out of my local church. In a city that is unknown to me a friend was used by God to take away just a little more of my comfortability with church. He asked me to visit Church Under the Bridge with him.
I had never heard of such a thing but he explained that it began as a ministry to the homeless (not in my comfort zone) and 30 years later, there is a full blow church that literally meets under the overpass bridge of a major freeway every Sunday (really not in my comfort zone!)
My first instinct was to use my sleeping daughter as a reason for not going. But after a good breakfast, we decided to leave the comfortable and experience something new. And boy did we. I will try my best to paint the picture for you.
Church was a place where everyone served, setting up folding chairs, plastic tables, a portable stage and port-a-potties. Church was a place where they served a hot meal to anyone who came. Church was a place where the dividing lines of race and social status no longer existed - being under a bridge has a way of leveling things. Church was a place of worship in song so pure with no agenda, sung by a homeless man with mental challenges and a woman who sung in a language different than mine and yet every word spoke to my heart. Church was a place of being washed by the Word of God spoken with the passion of a woman who really KNOWS God. Church was a place of honest discussion about the things that we let divide us as we pondered MLK's dream. Church was a place of communion remembering the ultimate sacrifice made to rid the world of the division between God and man.
Church was reaching out and hugging a homeless man who just wanted to know he is loved (I think he may have been the church's self proclaimed greeter.) Church was shaking hands with Richard, who was so very proud of his "church" that he picked up all the small bits of trash as they blew in the wind under the bridge, which was somewhat of a futile effort. Rain, snow, or summer Texas heat - these people meet here to be the Church.
The word 'challenged' doesn't seem to quite encompass what I feel about this experience. But it is causing me to deconstruct what I have always known to be "church" and to question if it is OK for me to be comfortable there.
My daughter and I were debriefing our experience on the way home and as usual, she was an inspiration to me at the ripe old age of 13. She explained that on their summer mission trips to Mexico there are a lot of homeless people, and that she thought maybe God showed her this to somehow minister to them when she goes again this coming summer break. She said that her Student Ministries pastor (who is very wise) has told them to "get comfortable with being uncomfortable."
I think I might need to work on that a little bit. How about you?
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