One of the things I most often DON'T post about is my faith. I guess because I'm ambivalent about how people will perceive what I believe and of course, I don't want to offend. But I made an observation today and I feel the need to write about it.
One of the biggest tenets of Christian faith is that being in "community" is what makes being a follower, truly a follower. You can have faith as small as a mustard seed, but the community of faith is the watering and nurturing needed to get that plant going. Many people may not understand that basic premise. Christianity seems to be for the singular, believing, Bible thumping sinner who will work out his or her salvation through the individual and God. And no one else need apply. But truly Christianity is for the group. This was brought home to me in several ways.
I attend church by myself most Sundays. This is not a "pity me" statement. It is a fact brought about by the moving on of children and the steadfast husband of the "see ya when ya get home" religion. The people at the congregation I attend have developed their own theories of me, I'm sure. It doesn't matter. I am an accepted member of the congregation, having attended there for almost 30 years. They are my brothers and sisters as surely as the siblings I lived with in that small town next to the Delaware. They have watched my skits, my announcements and even a sermon and heard my questions, fears and beliefs sounded loud and clear through all these things.
But they are not in my presence the rest of the week. I do not have them with me when my waspish tongue lashes out at the laziness of a co-worker. When my temper is frayed by the uncaring community of people at my place of business when they trample on someone else's right to do things because it doesn't fit in with their ideas. And they are definitely not with me when I use my sarcasm as a cutting tool for the perceived fools of the public who don't see things my way. I think if my brothers and sisters in Christ saw me during the week they a)would claim they didn't know me and b)disown me from the family of Christ. And therein lies the problem.
Because they aren't with me everyday, I see things differently. I feel cut off and separate from Christ. I allow the world's treasures to obliterate the treasures of heaven. My eye on the prize is one of acceptance of the world and it's jewels. My husband doesn't seem to care how sarcastic I can be (unless it's unleashed on him). My children think my anecdotes about my co-workers are funny especially when I can show them in a darker light than my own.
I come to church the following Sunday filled with self-loathing and with disgust at another week gone by where the teachings of the "Ultimate Teacher" have gone unheeded by me. I grovel at his feet, promise to try and do better and find that by Monday afternoon, I'm going to hell in a hand basket once again.
And yet, I know that the lens of Christ is with me still. I know that if I were to ask for help in all this there are those who would walk beside me. They cannot be with me at home and in the workplace, but they are with me in e-mail. And only a phone call away from being by my side. Yea, though I walk through the valley of self-importance at the cost of all others, they are with me. They are like a rod and a staff, to poke, prod and sometimes drag me off the path I seem determined to follow. My siblings in the Lord are still with me, even though they are not.
This past Sunday I was wallowing in self-pity. I don't like sitting by myself in the pew. I don't like being the only believer in my home. I don't like not being able to discuss things of religious importance with anyone unless I have to go out to find them. After taking communion I was sitting in the pew, when I was tapped on the shoulder by a woman who is suffering mightily with cancer. She is courageous in her battle and even at her age, she is determined to keep going. She smiled at me and grasped my hand as she unsteadily made her way up the pew to take the bread and wine. She smiled at me. Her hands were cool and not terribly strong, but she took my hands in hers and was glad to see me. She was glad to see me. I still get choked up by this. I don't know why she would be glad to see me. I certainly wasn't glad to BE me. But she shared a piece of herself with me on her way to taste and see the Lord our God. We are one in the body, we are one in the blood. That's from a hymn or song I know. If it weren't for the people of the congregation I am part of, I'm not sure I'd be part of anything. There is certainly something more worthwhile in this fellowship than any other committee I might have been on for the PTA!
I don't deserve her smile. I don't deserve the Lord's gift of grace either, but thank the good Lord above it is given to me and all I have to do is reach out and be received amongst. Amen
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