Monday, May 12, 2014

The Lost Weekend, Billy style

The Lost Weekend was a 1945 movie directed by Billy Wilder about an alcoholic and, well, a lost weekend.

No, I did not drink this weekend or the previous 18 years before it, but I did have a lost weekend, directed by, well, God. I caught an infection in whatever manner or form that occurred. It was, and is, an insidious infection that has literally floored me and kept me from even attending church, which hasn't happened in a year and hasn't happened more than twice in two years. Can't walk, heck move, without pain wracking me.

Oh, the pains of getting more seasoned. Oh, the real, acute, demoralizing, terrible pains of getting more seasoned.

So, I lay and I thought, when I wasn't hazy and hurting (which was far, far too often). On the first day, if the house had been afire, I would have had to think it over whether to get up or not. Seriously.  Second day, I probably could have launched myself out of bed. Yesterday, I got up. Today, I'm up before 10. Whew, hew or something like that.

Anyway, I gave a lot of thought to this new venture we're about to be launched into like missiles from a plane. Only, I'm not absolutely certain you could call us smart bombs.

I know this much: I know we know how to fix the sanctuary. I know we've got a very serviceable, if not spectacular name. I know we know what band needs we have. I know we know what to do with our short-term plan. I know we have a very good idea what to do with our long-term plan. I know we are excited and I know we're ready to roll (present condition notwithstanding). I know we have a place to live, if not in the community, darn close. I know what will happen on June 29. I know what comes next. I know how to do direct mail outs.

What I don't know is whether the people will come.

And therein lies the faith.

What I do know is this: 1) I use colons way too much; 2) There are churches on every corner, even in New Orleans. 3) There is a reason this grand old church has shrunk to practically nothing, by big church standards and fallen apart to a great extent in its physical building. We can't simply renovate the old church. We can't.

So, what will we do that brings folks in where they weren't coming in before.

We're going to pray a lot. We're going to call upon the Holy Spirit. And we're going to build an Uptown Community church that someone would want to belong to. I fully expect it to take two years before we're full. But I fully expect it to become full. Maybe I give too much of myself on these blogs, but that's who I've always been. Look up transparency in the dictionary and you'll see a smiling old man (who has an infection). But I believe that even at my age I was called for this. I believe that this is borderline miraculous, but I believe all I've learned in the past 16 years is about to be put on display. I believe God wants me to help this area.

If I didn't believe that, I ask the world, why would I do this? Why would anyone? The danger and the risk is enormous. Certainly it's occurred to me that we could fall flat on our faces. But it's also occurred to me that if we, Sione my co-pastor and myself, simply follow his will to be best of our abilities (that after all were given to us by the Master himself), we can't fail.

If one person who didn't know Jesus and had no place he or she felt comfortable to worship in came to the saving grace of our Lord, isn't that a success? Truly. Isn't that a success?

It's not about megachurches. Never has been nor will be. It's about relationship sprung from one person finding Jesus who otherwise wouldn't have. That's been my quest since I began this after surprisingly finding Jesus 19 years ago in August. It will be my quest till the infection kills me.

That seemed likely on Friday afternoon. Less likely today.

Funny how that goes.

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