Contemplative Comics day 13

I miss Church in the Garden. I have never felt more comfortable teaching the scriptures. I have also never felt more vulnerable. If ever there was a crowd of people who could see right through you, it was there.

I love that.

I remember preparing a message one time, hoping it would bring some kind of peace and comfort, and simultaneously feeling like I was totally full of crap. That is a thrilling place to be.

The lives of the displaced and distressed are full of chaos and boredom and stress. Constantly navigating the bureaucracy of welfare, Social Security, the court systems, the various requirements of non-profits, and finding a place to go to the bathroom without getting arrested. All under the public eye of scrutiny and judgment.

The idea of serving people stuck in these conditions is noble and romantic. The reality, less so. I used to clean up needles on the other end of the church building before Sundays so the kids wouldn’t stumble across them. Once at the church I was working at, the pastor and I walked out of the building and a guy had his pants down and was dropping a deuce right there in our courtyard in the middle of town. A guy we had a relationship with. This guy liked us!

But where is he supposed to go to the bathroom? (well, the more heavily wooded area on the other side of the building would’ve been better, but you get the idea).

For a time, the self-sufficient and wealthy members of churches will tolerate these folks and enjoy the novelty of their presence—even in the face of some of the challenges they present. But there always comes a time when the growth of the church becomes a serious concern. It seems like welcoming street folks is usually the first thing to go when that happens.

It’s one of the wonderful things about Church in the Garden. The welcome never really wears out.

-Dease