Ah. Last day of a three-day retreat, while I'm wondering why we don't call them advances (I admit, I stole that line).
The Bible says a lot about alot, but one of the things I think it makes most plain is our need to love our neighbor.
I might be having problems with that notion, I've notice. Again, I'm invisible, which simply means I apparently am uninvitable. It makes me sad, many times, but the fact is what the fact is. No one invites me to eat with them, to go to movies with them, to do whatever with them.
That being true, and I think it is, what can I do about it? The answer to that question might be the answer to how churches must operate in the future.
Driving in for breakfast with the sun still hidden somewhere beyond the tall pines of the Wesley Center in Woodworth, La., I heard a song by J.J. Heller. It speaks of being loved for being me. I speaks of those invisible folk who have felt this very urgent need to do things to be noticed all their lives even while searching for persons who know love without qualifications.
Love me for me. What a concept.
How do we find those invisibles and touch them and help heal them? That is where generations have gone. They've become invisible, I think. The ones who are the most invisible are the unchurched. But clearly there are visitors who are invisible who need our love just as much as the next person.
I call them the clearly invisible, or at least I just did call them that. I'm probably in that grouping. The kind of persons who are introverted enough that we can't come out and say, 'hey, wanna go somewhere and get a cup of coffee." I thought I was far over that, but I'm not. I noticed that this week, again.
So how do we touch the clearly invisible?
It's actually simple. We do our best to simply, intentionally go to them and INVITE them in. Make sure they know that God loves them not for what they do or even who they are. He loves them for them BEING. Just being. That's who they are.
When we lose the ability to be concerned about more than numbers, but see deeply into the pools of lonliness and even despair, we're lost. Period. We're not there yet. Let's hope we never get there.
1 comment:
I feel you. Sometimes I wonder if something is wrong with me because even my brothers and sisters (in Christ and blood related)don't visit or invite me places. But I'll continue to love. After all this is not our home.
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