Posts tagged ‘welcome’

September 19, 2011

Why I Love My Church

It has been a while since I’ve expressed my love in a space like this for the congregation where I serve– something I know that few pastors can actually do honestly about their parishes. But, I can and I really want to do this today.

Why? Again, recently, I was attending (sigh) a denominational meeting (I know I tend to rant about these a lot) and when I do, I always walk away from such gatherings with a newly empowering awareness of how lucky I am to be pastoring my particular congregation. Who would want to pastor the same old, same old kind of church? Not me. Though the challenges can seem overwhelming at times as we draw a population of members who often are in transition in many aspects of our lives, I feel that together we are paving a new way doing church.

Washington Plaza is not perfect. And, of course, there is a long road of growth needed ahead of us, but there is a depth of character and authenticity here that naturally flows out of how cool these people are. And, I just get to come alongside them for the ride. . .

So, why do I love my church?

1. They love me. They are so kind to me. They treat me fairly. There isn’t a week that goes by when I’m not hugged and loved on by a different person. I know they do thoughtful things for me not because I just got here and they are pretending still  (because this would have long ago worn off), but because I believe this congregation and I understand each other and genuinely like each other. They treat me the way they would want to be treated. It is a good thing, a very good thing.

2. Some of the saints of God attend here. We have members who go out of their way on a weekly basis to serve in outreach ministries for the sheer sake of calling. They teach English as a second language classes. They give high school kids rides to work after morning worship, even when it means going out of their way. They collect can goods and take them to Reston Interfaith’s emergency food pantry even when they are in their 80s and shouldn’t be lifting things. They sit with our terminally ill members in the hospital. They give money to missions and bring food to share with our weekly community meals, even when they don’t have it in their pockets to give.

3. There isn’t a conversation, it seems, that they are scared of having. On this Sunday morning for example, we participated in a call to prayer for violence against transgendered persons in the DC metro area. Did anyone looked shocked? No, just nods on their faces of support saying back at me without these words, “Of course, we’ll pray.”

4. They are willing to try new things. Even when I have crazy idea like “let’s have church in the Plaza room” as we did this past July, everyone said, “Ok, we’ll try it.” Not all new ideas stand the test of time, of course, but I think any reasonable idea is worth trying at least once. I see an attitude of flexibility embedded in the spirit of the people, and it makes my job so much easier.

5. They accept anybody. Really, they do, especially those who stick around and want to commit themselves to the life of the community. I never have to worry about bringing friends and folks not being nice to them. Sometimes I stand at the door on Sunday and stand alone for long periods of time because everyone is so busy talking to each other. It’s so good to see that I don’t mind being there alone.

I am proud to be the pastor of Washington Plaza Baptist Church for these reasons and many more– such is my decree this Monday morning.

August 3, 2011

Being at Collegeville Part 1: Hospitality Revisited

We talk a good talk in the church about the Christian virtue of hospitality. It has become in many circles a practice that you just can’t say you aren’t interested in. Sure, I welcome my neighbors in, we say. Sure, I have an extra bed at my house. Sure, you can come over for dinner. Saying these things rolls off our tongue as easily as “Jesus loves you.” Yet, in our there’s a Wal-Mart around the corner neighborhoods, just walk to 7-11 if you need something existence, do we really get to know our friend called hospitality? Do we really understand how to make ourselves vulnerable to one another in our giving and receiving?

If I am on an out-of-town trip to visit a friend and have a need of an item or I want a special snack, what do I do? I either leave before or during the visit to purchase from the nearest variety story what my heart desires. Or, if I don’t have a car, I keep the same plan but find a ride. In both instances, it’s a mostly independent activity.

This week, the pastoral life has taken me to the campus of St. John’s College in Collegeville, Minnesota. It’s a place housing a Benedictine monastery, a school for women and men, the famous St. John’s Bible, acres and acres of well-preserved and kept land. I’m a guest at the Collegeville institute for Ecumenical and Cultural Research– an outreach program of the monetary. I’m here learning how to become a better communicator of the written word.

When I arrived yesterday after a 90 mile van ride from the Minneapolis airport, my first impression of this state new to me alongside with 11 other pastors along with a scholar in residence, Richard Lischer and a writing tutor, Sari Fordham, was: “This place is in the middle of nowhere!”

And, I didn’t have a car. I felt trapped.  There would be no runs to CVS for left at home essentials or late night snacks of my choice. A whole week in the middle of the land of thousand lakes? Where was the nearest Target?

But, to the staff of Collegeville Institute hospitality is no joke.  If you know anything about the Benedictine order of brothers, you know they take the virtue of welcome very seriously.

Before I had too much time to worry about my non-existent toothpaste, we were informed during Monday night orientation of the commissary open to us free of charge. Everything we might need by way of personal products could be found. If we didn’t see what we needed, we were instructed to let the staff know so that they could find it for us. Then, we were told about the kitchen, fully stocked with every kind of juice, soda, cereal, snack that you could even imagine. And, if there was a particular food that would make us particularly happy, we’d find a tablet on the refrigerator to make our request. They promised to have it to us within 24 hours.

Sometimes I think, we city folk, busy folk, “I’ll take care of me” folk, aren’t able to allow the wells of hospitality’s waters to seep in bless our days because we think we have no need of such. Modern life’s love of self-sufficiency have put us all in auto pilot.

I’m glad to be spending a week in here where every morning when I can drink the Almond Milk I requested for my cereal then brush my teeth with the toothpaste I did not buy, so to remember God’s gift of welcome. It’s a gift I can’t buy or earn. Being at Collegeville is teaching me how to recieve.

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