Jesus and Juicy Fruit

There is one thing about which every pastor can be certain on a Sunday morning:

...that absolutely nothing is certain about a Sunday morning. Ever.

Except, for Mr. Bill.

He is an unwavering figure in our congregation.

His gentle face makes one feel as though they might actually be looking into that of God.

Every Sunday--without fail in the nearly three years I've been his pastor--Mr. Bill sits next to Ms. Pat (his wife of 60+ years) and smiles politely before, during, and after the conclusion of worship at everyone he comes into contact with even though he can hear very little of what they say to him.

And every Sunday--without fail in the nearly three years I've been his pastor--Mr. Bill makes his way to the back of the sanctuary at the conclusion of worship, pulls a sandwich sized Ziploc bag from a drawer in the seasoned table where folks picked up their bulletins an hour earlier, and presents three different flavors of chewing gum to passersby.

He stands in the entryway until every last parishioner and visitor has been given the chance to take a piece of their favorite flavored gum--all the while sporting the most kind and welcoming smile as if to say without speaking any words, "I'm so glad to see you today."

The man has been known to wait fifteen minutes after everyone else has left just so I could get my piece of Juicy Fruit gum. [Oddly enough, I choose it week after week because it reminds me of my paternal grandfather as does Mr. Bill.] 

The couple of times he's had to leave before I could make my way to him, he left a piece of Juicy Fruit sitting on the table top, right next to the bulletins where I'd be sure to see it and know he hadn't forgotten me.

Though none of this may seem significant, Mr. Bill is a reminder for me of God's unwavering and transformative presence at work in the world--through big and small phenomena alike--and a reminder that though there are plenty of excuses not to partner with what God is up to, we should. 

Because that's exactly what we've been created, called, and commissioned to do.

Even when things are uncertain and chaotic--like they are for most pastors any given Sunday morning...

Because, undoubtedly, between the previous Sunday and the current one, one or more of the following has happened:

- Someone has fallen ill.

- Someone has entered a tumultuous season in their relationship with a loved one.

- Someone has passed away.

- Someone has learned that something they thought was a "for sure thing" really isn't.

- Someone has traveled to another county or state to tend to a severely sick family member.

- Someone has learned that they are no longer thought to be of any significance by someone they care about.

- Someone has received news that will change life as they know it.

- Someone has realized that they are no longer in control of all that which they had previously assumed.

And that's just the beginning of the potential vague and overly generalized scenarios.

We live in a time of upheaval--physical, emotional, mental, social, societal, and spiritual (to name a few).

When things are ceaselessly changing, sea-sickeningly somersaulting, frighteningly frolicking in a manner of to-and-fro of which we did no such thing as approve...

Why are church buildings where so many of us choose to run at a dead sprint when Sunday morning rolls around?

What do we hope to find there, in the same pew we've occupied for the past 30 years or so (and our parents the 50 or so before us)?

Do we hope to be surrounded by a group of like-minded people who will enable and justify our complacency about the state of affairs in our world as though it is no concern of the Church?

Or, do we hope instead, to be enveloped by a group of people who will communicate to us both that the transformative presence of God is at work in our midst and that there is still work yet to be done by the Church in this changing, somersaulting, frolicking world we inhabit?

At her worst, the Church is stagnant--unmoved by people matters deemed unworthy of her concern--and thus, stymies and holds hostage the minds and the hearts and the bodies of believers who were made to partner with God's transformative presence at work in the world.

At her best, the Church is vibrant--moved within the entirety of her being by these same people matters--and thus, empowers and enables the flourishing of the minds and the hearts and the bodies of believers who were made to partner with God's transformative presence at work in the world...until the world is better for every one of God's people.

Sure, church is a place we go.

But more importantly, Church is who we are.

And who we are should change the world...until the world is better for every one of God's people.

Are we a Mr. Bill in our various communities and contexts?

In other words, are we letting people know that we see them, that they are known and loved and thus, communicating to them that they are even more intimately seen, known, and loved by the Almighty God?

These are the questions I'm pondering about the Church Universal, local churches, and myself as a Christian this afternoon. I appreciate you taking the time to read my ramblings.

Deep Peace,

MK