Church

Last night and this morning, Deb said she was not at all looking forward to going to church.

"But you're singing, right? You enjoy that."

"Yeah, I do like singing and I like the people, but I hate going to church."

I guess these words are pretty provocative. I remember often dreading going to church growing up--at least as far as having to sit through my dad's long, boring sermons. But I always assumed it would get better. I thought that when I became an adult like my parents, I would long for Sunday mornings the way they do, and I would hang on every word being sung in every hymn and every word being read from every passage of Scripture. I would feel the effect of those impassioned words getting caught in my father's throat, and I would empathize with those tears that stream from my mother's eyes when she sings a song to Jesus.

Ever since I stepped into "adulthood" my freshman year, I've had no yearning for any church I've attended. However, I do have a yearning for the church that will make it their intention to present the Gospel in such a way that I do hunger after it. After three years of church hopping in Fredericksburg, I started wondering whether I'm being too picky. I know that I won't find a perfect church, so I shouldn't expect that. But can't I at least expect that the chief aim of the church I attend will be to present the Gospel as it is without an over-arching emphasis on "becoming all things to all men?"

 ^"19Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. ²⁰To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. ²¹To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law), so as to win those not having the law. ²²To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. ²³I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings." -1 Corinthians 9: 19-23

 Paul does make it very clear that who we are is only important by measures of our malleability in being who God wants us to be. I may not be the best at speaking encouraging words to people, but God demands that I encourage my fellow believers; that's when I have to say "get over yourself" to my natural inhibitions and work toward doing and saying those things that God wants done and said. I expect the Gospel to be penetrating the weakness of my sinful heart.

So I expect it to do the same at church. I don't want my church to become all things to all men and lose sight of the Gospel in the process. We are to enslave ourselves to others for the purposes of God. We are not to enslave God to others for the purposes of our own.

I could be exaggerating a bit. I may be making a bigger deal out of things than I should. Wherever my thoughts on this are wrong or twisted are where I am finding it impossible to feel like I can be much part of any church congregation in Fredericksburg, and I am well convinced that this is not okay. So I am open to reproof. I need correction.

When Then is Now

"We've come full circle, Katie Jones." Meredith was joking with me in the car as I drove her to Rose Auto Shop on route 1 to get her dear Ishmael after yet another auto repair. I met Meredith for the first time last year when our mutual friend Molly asked me if I could give Meredith a ride to pick up her car from this same auto shop. A friendship was born through happenstance, and this recent consequence of our friendship brought us to a reminder of beginnings and endings. "We've come full circle, but this isn't the end of our friendship. Don't worry about that."

The looming end of college isn't something I've been dwelling on or worrying about. When the truth of the matter does pass through my mind, I still think in terms of possibilities. Places I could move. Jobs I could apply for. Education programs I could apply for. While the scope of my future seems much more limited than before, especially since I've hit my mathematical ceiling and discovered how absolutely terrible a student I am, there still seem to be so many options. There are different things I could be and different cultures of people I could meet. The ideas excite me in ways they did when I was seven-years-old, dead set on one day becoming an amazing dentist or doctor. As fun and educational this college experience has been, I don't for a second think this is it. By no means have I reached my ceiling in terms of purpose. One very thrilling feature of being a Christian is living by the biblical mantra: "God has a plan for me." If nothing else, we've got that.

Earlier today, I ran into Gemma as I was leaving the Nest after having eaten my lunch. She was about to grab some food and then head over to a nice grassy area on the side of Virginia hall under the shade of a tree for a picnic with her fellow freshmen. She invited me to come along, so I did. I sat there almost directly below the window of my very first dorm room at Mary Washington, and I sat amongst a group that so much reminded me of the group of girls I'd hang out with in the Virginia parlor almost every weekday at this same time of day my freshman year. I'd come full circle yet again, but I was experiencing it alone this time. These fresh and expectant young girls are only beginning their circle. They have all the possibilities of classes and majors and friends and growing independence. In a few years, they will be where I am right now, and I will be in the midst of some other season myself.

I'm not trying to head into a there's-nothing-new-under-the-sun track. On the contrary, all this nostalgia has put me in an abnormally optimistic mood. I've got a not-Obama-but-Jesus-infused hope in it all. Today, tomorrow, and all lengths of time God has promised for each of our respective futures. There is a time to dance, and that time is now.