He told me to tell you that
Iwas on vacation more or less last week. We spent some time in one of my happy places (East Texas). We drank coffee out of Marshall Pottery mugs at the Joe Pine Coffee shop, ate hot links at J.B’s in Pittsburg, spent the night in Mt. Pleasant with old friends (they still call me Kenny) and we worshipped on Sunday morning in a small rural Baptist church behind that pine cone curtain that was full of misfits.
I don’t say that with any criticism. In fact it’s what the early church looked like and what I mean by that is it was casual and there was room for God to work and for people to share their lives. The offering from last week was posted in the bulletin, the grand total was $160.60. We sang Revive Us Again and Oh, How I Love Jesus, but these were more than songs to these people, it was who they were, they are revived and they do love Jesus.
It had a family feel but it was not biological, it was spiritual. It was not something they set out to create that turned out fake (in other words there were no cool coffee cups with the little sleeves), it was organic and natural, maybe I should say supernatural.
But — but it was not a place most of us would want to go back to, even if it was Pine Cone Heaven. Obviously, if most of these people failed to fi le a tax return the IRS would not come calling. It was too fresh and tangible and that makes a lot of us nervous. We like church to be more rigid and predictable. Is this making sense or is it just me?
I was sick on the ride home Sunday night as I justified my feelings of being glad it was not my church. It was like bean dip; you know you keep eating it even though it has a weird taste and you kind of like it but afterwards you are thinking you will never do that again.
I was also struggling with the fact that I’m a misfit too and therefore, I was a perfect fi t. There are days I want to stand up among my brothers and sisters and tell them how hard life is and admit I need prayer (this actually happened Sunday morning).
Nope, the problem is not this small, rural Baptist church hidden among the pine trees of East Texas. The problem is, well, you know.
He told me to tell you that.
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