When Moses was staying with his father-in-law, he named his son Gershom, because he had been a stranger in a strange land. This language has caught our fancy and we are fond of the idea of a stranger in a strange land. We make TV shows (often called "fish out of water" shows) about the oddities of a stranger in a strange land. We can all remember the Beverly Hillbillies, Green Acres, Mork and Mindy (shows my age group, doesn't it?). We make movies in the same vein, with foreigners or aliens coming to our world. We are fascinated with the idea of a stranger looking at a new world. There was even a very popular novel with the same name.
As a part of my life, I am, on occasion, invited to preach at local churches. I have written before about how fascinating it is that there are so many churches in my area. They all look the same and we kind of assume they will be the same, but they are all, in fact, very different.
I preached yesterday at a church I have not visited before. As a "sophisticated" Christian (meaning one who goes to a big church), I would quickly refer to it as a "small, country church." In fact, that is what I was told about preaching there. "Well, it's just a small country church." Actually, I am going to stop using such language. I am not sure it really communicates anything of significance, except a certain level of disrespect. It tells you nothing about the people there or what happens there.
The parking lot was filled. (They will have to have a new one if they have any growth at all.) The people were uniformly kind and welcoming. They spoke to one another freely and kindly and the service was a marvelous combination of worship and fellowship. There was a comfortableness in the service (to coin a phrase). A small, county church? Well, yes. I guess. It is small and probably country, although located in a very small town. It is certainly a church. But it was nothing like the experience that phrase suggests.
They had an organ and pianist. We hear preachers quip about "organ grinders" and how much they want to have guitars and trumpets and electric drum sets and such, but the organ fit this worship quite well. They sang a couple of old songs and one newer song, singing well. They had a real "greeting time," not like in the big churches, but where people actually stand and talk to one another for a few minutes.
They listened well, even to my preaching, and when the service ended, people walked around and visited with one another yet again.
In short, it was a very nice Sunday morning, at a "small, country church." I was there in order to bring something to them, but I think I got more than I gave. What I got was a reminder that our sophisticated quips and clever ideas mean nothing when they dismiss hundreds of churches just like this, where people just love Christ and love each other and join in worship.
I would not have exchanged it for the world.
As a part of my life, I am, on occasion, invited to preach at local churches. I have written before about how fascinating it is that there are so many churches in my area. They all look the same and we kind of assume they will be the same, but they are all, in fact, very different.
I preached yesterday at a church I have not visited before. As a "sophisticated" Christian (meaning one who goes to a big church), I would quickly refer to it as a "small, country church." In fact, that is what I was told about preaching there. "Well, it's just a small country church." Actually, I am going to stop using such language. I am not sure it really communicates anything of significance, except a certain level of disrespect. It tells you nothing about the people there or what happens there.
The parking lot was filled. (They will have to have a new one if they have any growth at all.) The people were uniformly kind and welcoming. They spoke to one another freely and kindly and the service was a marvelous combination of worship and fellowship. There was a comfortableness in the service (to coin a phrase). A small, county church? Well, yes. I guess. It is small and probably country, although located in a very small town. It is certainly a church. But it was nothing like the experience that phrase suggests.
They had an organ and pianist. We hear preachers quip about "organ grinders" and how much they want to have guitars and trumpets and electric drum sets and such, but the organ fit this worship quite well. They sang a couple of old songs and one newer song, singing well. They had a real "greeting time," not like in the big churches, but where people actually stand and talk to one another for a few minutes.
They listened well, even to my preaching, and when the service ended, people walked around and visited with one another yet again.
In short, it was a very nice Sunday morning, at a "small, country church." I was there in order to bring something to them, but I think I got more than I gave. What I got was a reminder that our sophisticated quips and clever ideas mean nothing when they dismiss hundreds of churches just like this, where people just love Christ and love each other and join in worship.
I would not have exchanged it for the world.