Or “Why Missional Neighborhood Congregations Aren't Perfect”
I often write and speak about how beautiful my congregation is. The truth of the matter is that I do love it, I love every messy thing about living life with the people who are in my congregation. There is nothing that I would rather do than be our neighborhood pastor.
I met with someone recently who is interested in launching a new congregation. They listened to my stories and my heart. I felt really heard by them. It was a wonderful time. It is evident they are a good person who loves Jesus.
They asked the question in our conversation that always comes up when discussing my perspective on leading congregations.
Why would having a building be so bad? How would it hurt what it is you're doing?
A thought about what happened in the kitchen last night.
Each week I have the joy of gathering with friends to share communion. Communion is the culmination of our time together. It is not quiet or somber. It is noisy and talkative. It is beautiful and I love every minute of our inefficient celebration of the Lord's Supper.
Before that time we gather in together in a mob of humanity in my living room.
Part six in a series on using the Lord's Prayer as a roadmap to mission.
Who is your “them”? Is it conservatives? Maybe your “them” is liberals. Perhaps your “them” is cishet white males. Your “them” may very well be homosexuals. It could be that your “them” is people of color. Whomever your “them” is, to be on mission is to move towards “them” in love and forgiveness.
I am always amazed by how full my calendar is. I have dates on there months into the future. It's crazy! This reality makes it very difficult to live in the moment. I am often thinking, planning, worrying, and dreaming about the future. Today is not something that I often pay attention to.
I am white, American, and male. Those three facts alone mean that I experience on a daily basis a level of privilege that many people don’t.
OK, many of you are about to stop reading and your eyes have rolled into the back of you head. I actually heard them roll. I have a teen-agers, trust me I can see an eye roll a mile away. Please keep reading. This is going somewhere. It’s not another “white man self-loathing” kind of piece.
Over the last few days I have bumped into an article by Rhonda Stephens entitled, “Parenting: Are We Getting A Raw Deal?” I saw it once and read it. I saw it a second time and read it again. The first time I laughed and remembered my childhood and how it reflected much of what Stephens wrote. I appreciated that at the end she makes it clear that maybe the current state of affairs is not the way things ought to be.