community... it's your responsibility...
I remember the first time I went to church by myself. I had spent a few months going to church with my parents, as I felt too awkward going by myself, and I found it easier to just show up for "big church," blend into a crowd of people I didn't know, and go unnoticed. But there came a point where I thought, "Okay, you need to do this. You need community, and you've got to make it happen because it's not going to show up on your doorstep." I needed to make some friends and I needed to start rebuilding my life, but it was tough. You'd think I had never stepped foot in church as anxious as I was about going to Sunday School. There was a part of me that was really excited. I had this lingering anticipation that maybe something really incredible would happen by taking the risk and going alone. Plus, I had gone to church every week of my life up until this point, so how hard could it be, right? I'd just walk in, someone would talk to me, I'd make a connection, and I'd feel right at home.
Wrong.
One of the pastors at my church invited me to attend a class of young adults that he led. Not only was I hesitant to go alone, not knowing anyone that would be there, but I also felt like I had a huge scarlet letter hanging around my neck and everyone could see it. He assured me that I would be in good company and that many people in the class could relate to me. That made me feel a smidge better, and so I mustered up all the courage I could find and convinced myself to try it out. I spent Saturday night picking out the right outfit so that I looked approachable and confident. They say the clothes you wear speak volumes about you, and I was trying my best to make a good first impression. I walked into a room of strangers and instantly felt like all eyes were on me. Oddly enough, no one came up and spoke to me. Not one single person. No one asked me my name. No one tried to make me feel welcomed. I quickly sat down hoping to get out of everyone's line of vision. No one sat next to me. And although no one acknowledged me, it was clear that everyone noticed me. The class ended, and I bolted to the auditorium so that I could blend in to the crowd. I felt so out of place in my own church home, and my heart sank. I was absolutely disappointed, and I felt so defeated. I had such a high hopes that things were going to work out differently, but I was wrong. So very wrong.
Let's be real here, can we? Can we just be honest here and say that sometimes church is hard? Can we shake our heads in agreement that church can be scary? You bet it can be! But being a church girl, and being a girl who certainly understands what it's like to feel unwelcomed and like the odd ball, I get it. I've been on both sides of the fence here and, honestly, neither side is easy. You may be reading this thinking, "Yeah right! It definitely sounds like one is easier than the other." But I think we've got to step back and look at things from a different perspective. More than that, we've got to step back and take a look at ourselves.
I didn't want to go back to church. It was a odd feeling not wanting to be in a place I loved, but I really did not want to be there. And you know what, it was so easy for me to be upset with that class of strangers and say, "They all knew I was a visitor, and since they didn't talk to me and find a way to make me feel accepted and a part of the group, I'm never going to church again!" It would have been really easy for me to stay discouraged and reclusive and just quit seeking community all together for fear of another similar situation. Rejection is terrifying, I don't care who you are. And it's easy to feel completely rejected if you don't immediately feel accepted, isn't it? But I realized that staying away from church, that avoiding community, would benefit me in no way. After all, if the enemy can isolate you, he has a much easier time of defeating you, and I had been fighting too hard to lose this battle. It wasn't going to be an easy road, but I also knew that I couldn't expect my circumstances to change if I wasn't willing to step out and seek what my heart needed.
Fast forward a few months later, and I found myself teaching a Sunday School class that was growing so rapidly I could hardly keep up with it. Each week new people came, and sometimes the regulars didn't come back. Knowing full well how uncomfortable it was to be the "new person" in the room, I tried to my best to always say a friendly hello to anyone who walked through the door. I tried to get to know the people in the class, to remember their names, to learn a little bit about each one so I could actually visit with them each week, and as the numbers increased, this got harder and harder. Sometimes people would sneak past me, and I wouldn't get the chance to talk to them. Sometimes I'd try and the conversation would go no where. Sometimes people would decide not to come back, and it didn't take long before I began beating myself up and thinking I should have done more. Maybe if I had created more social opportunities they would have stayed. Maybe if I had texted them or invited them to lunch. Maybe if I would have sent them a card or asked them to meet up for coffee. And I began thinking that it was my responsibility. That if they chose not to come back, if they didn't have a good experience, I was at fault. The thought of turning someone off from the idea of church, from ever wanting to plug into a community, burdened my heart. I would continuously think, "I need to do more. I should do more. I am not doing enough." And I found myself trying to work so hard to meet everyone's expectations (which were really mine) that I began to get discouraged and burned out.
And so here's what I want to say. Here's what I think we need to remember. Your relationship with Christ, your commitment to a church home, your involvement and connection to a Godly community is your responsibility. People will never, ever, ever be what you need. Ever. God can, and will, use them to encourage you and challenge you in your walk, but at the end of the day, it's your responsibility. If you desire community, seek it out. You may get lucky and make a connection right off the bat, or you may have to try, try, and try again. But no one is perfect. No community is perfect. No teacher, no pastor, no congregation is perfect, and neither are you. Thank goodness, right? Sure, they may look it on the outside, but they're walking through this same messy thing called life, too, and they've got their own fears, struggles, strengths, and weaknesses. And when we look to people to be what we need, we'll always be disappointed. They'll never live up to our expectations. When we try to be what people need, we'll let them down. Because at the end of the day, there is only one who can do that. There is only one who can be all that we need exactly when we need it in the very way we need it. And if we let man determine that, we're likely to give up quickly and miss out on the rich blessing of belonging to a community, a church body, and a group of like-minded believers who will make our faith journey even sweeter.
At the end of the day, we need each other. But more than that, we need the Lord. And isn't that what church is about? Isn't it about God? Isn't it a place for us to go and collectively worship Him and learn more about Him? When we keep our focus on the Lord, when we allow Him to lead us to the place where He wants to use us, and when we understand that the best community we'll ever find is the one we fully invest in, regularly attend, and actively contribute to, we'll come to find that the church truly is one of the sweetest gifts and blessings God has given us.
"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching." - Hebrews 10:23-25
Wrong.
One of the pastors at my church invited me to attend a class of young adults that he led. Not only was I hesitant to go alone, not knowing anyone that would be there, but I also felt like I had a huge scarlet letter hanging around my neck and everyone could see it. He assured me that I would be in good company and that many people in the class could relate to me. That made me feel a smidge better, and so I mustered up all the courage I could find and convinced myself to try it out. I spent Saturday night picking out the right outfit so that I looked approachable and confident. They say the clothes you wear speak volumes about you, and I was trying my best to make a good first impression. I walked into a room of strangers and instantly felt like all eyes were on me. Oddly enough, no one came up and spoke to me. Not one single person. No one asked me my name. No one tried to make me feel welcomed. I quickly sat down hoping to get out of everyone's line of vision. No one sat next to me. And although no one acknowledged me, it was clear that everyone noticed me. The class ended, and I bolted to the auditorium so that I could blend in to the crowd. I felt so out of place in my own church home, and my heart sank. I was absolutely disappointed, and I felt so defeated. I had such a high hopes that things were going to work out differently, but I was wrong. So very wrong.
Let's be real here, can we? Can we just be honest here and say that sometimes church is hard? Can we shake our heads in agreement that church can be scary? You bet it can be! But being a church girl, and being a girl who certainly understands what it's like to feel unwelcomed and like the odd ball, I get it. I've been on both sides of the fence here and, honestly, neither side is easy. You may be reading this thinking, "Yeah right! It definitely sounds like one is easier than the other." But I think we've got to step back and look at things from a different perspective. More than that, we've got to step back and take a look at ourselves.
I didn't want to go back to church. It was a odd feeling not wanting to be in a place I loved, but I really did not want to be there. And you know what, it was so easy for me to be upset with that class of strangers and say, "They all knew I was a visitor, and since they didn't talk to me and find a way to make me feel accepted and a part of the group, I'm never going to church again!" It would have been really easy for me to stay discouraged and reclusive and just quit seeking community all together for fear of another similar situation. Rejection is terrifying, I don't care who you are. And it's easy to feel completely rejected if you don't immediately feel accepted, isn't it? But I realized that staying away from church, that avoiding community, would benefit me in no way. After all, if the enemy can isolate you, he has a much easier time of defeating you, and I had been fighting too hard to lose this battle. It wasn't going to be an easy road, but I also knew that I couldn't expect my circumstances to change if I wasn't willing to step out and seek what my heart needed.
Fast forward a few months later, and I found myself teaching a Sunday School class that was growing so rapidly I could hardly keep up with it. Each week new people came, and sometimes the regulars didn't come back. Knowing full well how uncomfortable it was to be the "new person" in the room, I tried to my best to always say a friendly hello to anyone who walked through the door. I tried to get to know the people in the class, to remember their names, to learn a little bit about each one so I could actually visit with them each week, and as the numbers increased, this got harder and harder. Sometimes people would sneak past me, and I wouldn't get the chance to talk to them. Sometimes I'd try and the conversation would go no where. Sometimes people would decide not to come back, and it didn't take long before I began beating myself up and thinking I should have done more. Maybe if I had created more social opportunities they would have stayed. Maybe if I had texted them or invited them to lunch. Maybe if I would have sent them a card or asked them to meet up for coffee. And I began thinking that it was my responsibility. That if they chose not to come back, if they didn't have a good experience, I was at fault. The thought of turning someone off from the idea of church, from ever wanting to plug into a community, burdened my heart. I would continuously think, "I need to do more. I should do more. I am not doing enough." And I found myself trying to work so hard to meet everyone's expectations (which were really mine) that I began to get discouraged and burned out.
And so here's what I want to say. Here's what I think we need to remember. Your relationship with Christ, your commitment to a church home, your involvement and connection to a Godly community is your responsibility. People will never, ever, ever be what you need. Ever. God can, and will, use them to encourage you and challenge you in your walk, but at the end of the day, it's your responsibility. If you desire community, seek it out. You may get lucky and make a connection right off the bat, or you may have to try, try, and try again. But no one is perfect. No community is perfect. No teacher, no pastor, no congregation is perfect, and neither are you. Thank goodness, right? Sure, they may look it on the outside, but they're walking through this same messy thing called life, too, and they've got their own fears, struggles, strengths, and weaknesses. And when we look to people to be what we need, we'll always be disappointed. They'll never live up to our expectations. When we try to be what people need, we'll let them down. Because at the end of the day, there is only one who can do that. There is only one who can be all that we need exactly when we need it in the very way we need it. And if we let man determine that, we're likely to give up quickly and miss out on the rich blessing of belonging to a community, a church body, and a group of like-minded believers who will make our faith journey even sweeter.
At the end of the day, we need each other. But more than that, we need the Lord. And isn't that what church is about? Isn't it about God? Isn't it a place for us to go and collectively worship Him and learn more about Him? When we keep our focus on the Lord, when we allow Him to lead us to the place where He wants to use us, and when we understand that the best community we'll ever find is the one we fully invest in, regularly attend, and actively contribute to, we'll come to find that the church truly is one of the sweetest gifts and blessings God has given us.
"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching." - Hebrews 10:23-25
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