Here I go again...

It has been an interesting weekend. We drove to Columbia, S.C. on Friday so Michael could lead a retreat for a church that is in the midst of a painful identity crisis. Friends of ours are a part of this community. The retreat was intense with some of the angry, hurt feelings still close to the surface. The large group conversation was painfully transparent at times. The woman who serves as moderator for this church cried out, “I don’t want to die without a church family. Is there any hope for us?” But there was also laughter, hugs, good food, and an earnest desire to restore the community. They have some hard work to do but are committed to doing whatever is needed to break down the dividing walls of hostility that remain.
One of the true North Stars for this community emerged as the weekend progressed. They began as a community that chose to use the process of consensus as their decision making model. This process often was messy and took time but it worked. If they couldn’t agree to a compromise on the really tough issues, they did nothing. As new people joined the church, this process and the value attached to it were not translated or taught to the new members. When they hit two tough issues this past year, places where people thought they knew one another’s values, differences emerged in hurtful ways. Consensus, which takes time and trust to achieve, was trampled underfoot in the crush of each person speaking their own truth without the willingness to wait on the process to work.
Another hallmark of this church was their feeling of being part of a family. Everyone matters and what happens to you, happens to me. This feeling of family extended to their larger community in their sense of being called to mission. Over time, this family connection frayed around the edges as other matters clamored for attention. As they examined the history of this painful crisis, they owned the need to focus again on church family relationships and the need to look outward to serve.
Sunday we met with our worship group and I saw us through the scrim( a piece of gauze cloth that appears opaque until lit from behind) of the retreat. As I listened and sang and prayed Sunday morning, my soul bubbled and simmered. The Heat and Light I find in this community of faith keeps my soul stew cooking. Like the woman in Columbia I cry out, “I don’t want to die without a church family.” My church family now is small and forming, not yet fully birthed or able to claim its birthright. It is in process and the possibilities are exciting. The realities of committing again to another faith family are scary. It could hurt me... again. I could let down those I love in this small community. We could grow and get larger and then what would we do? Or we could not grow and is that a failure of sorts? How can I let go of the loss and anger that seared my soul, left stiff scar tissue over half healed hurts, trust God again to be in this process, trust that God will make all things new and that includes me? And when the hard times come in this community, as they surely will, can I trust God to help us find our way back to what binds us together?
An ancient prayer written by John Chryostom, Bishop of Constantinople, slows my soul down and in it I find assurance and peace. “Almighty God, who has given us grace at this time with one accord to make our common supplications unto you, and does promise that where two or three are gathered together in your name, you will grant their requests: fulfill now the desires and petitions of your servants, as may be most expedient for them, granting us in this world knowledge of your truth, and in the world to come, life everlasting.” May it be so, Lord, for our small community here in Asheville and for the church in Columbia. Give us a church family, whole and wholly yours, where we may live Your truths and in the time of our dying, find life everlasting in the family of God that awaits. Amen.