The dance of hope

In 40 years, the United Methodist Church will cease to exist, they say, or perhaps the ones remaining will be out there with the scattered few who still put butter on their popcorn.

But for the first time since I’ve been in the church planting/restoration/restart/reorganize/resomethingtheheckotherwise business, admittedly only since April, I felt a bit of a surge of if not excitement at the least hope yesterday.

Somehow in a long day of listening, I heard the small still voice telling me that if I can get out of the way, He is strong enough, wise enough, mighty enough to bring revival even in the midst of my shortcomings. Maybe especially in my shortcomings.

Somebody told an introvert a way that he might, just might be able to get past, through, around the, uh, introverted-ness and help bring people to not a new church that we’ve talked so much about but to a new relationship with Jesus, which we’ve talk too little about in my opinion.

It begins with baby steps into relationship. Oh, I’ve heard some of the ideas before, but frankly, it just somehow clicked in a new way. Maybe I was just on this side of unconscious as the hours grew long and my ability to fight against the tide lessened or maybe it crept its way inside my brain , but maybe I final get it that it’s not about that dang building we’re trying so desperately to fix. Maybe.

What all this must be about is a sincere, honest look at what a relationship is. It’s about not inviting to church. It’s about being authentic and forming some kind of relationship with the unknown. It’s about being “real” (my word not theirs).

Look. Constant readers know I’m the most messed up person on the planet. That’s a given. I somehow would love to be able to say that I became a part of the folks beyond the altar rail, the clergy they say, and somehow everything grew clear and promising. But though I strive every day to bring something to someone who doesn’t know Christ, I fail mostly, wailing away at strong winds of tradition through these epics.

But somewhere in here (in there) Jesus did a work on me, and the next thing I knew I was up there in front of folks. No better. Just forgiven.

So, what do we do? What can we do?

Simply, I think, give in. Give in to the God who loves us and wants us to love others just like that.

David said it this way: Only in God do I find rest; my salvation comes from him. Only God is my rock and my salvation – my stronghold! – I won’t be shaken anymore.

Oh, I’m sure that there will be days ahead when shyness and such will knock me back down. But for now…

“Oh, I must find rest in God only, because my hope comes from him.”