It was a simple lunch with a dear friend, late enough in the afternoon to have a popular hangout almost completely to ourselves. When we get together – and this is always the case – minutes turn into hours and my family usually ends up checking to see if my suitcase is still in the closet.
We tend to talk a lot.
Yes, WE. Quit thinking it’s all my fault.
Yesterday was no exception. The only thing different this time was the topic of discussion, community. Church community to be specific.
My friend, who’s been a believer far longer than I have and has probably seen far more changes within the church too, pointed out the lack of community she’s noticed. Her questions were, “Do I want something that no one else does? Am I strange?”
I quickly told her she wasn’t strange at all. But in just seconds I realized I might be wrong, she might actually be strange.
Think about it, if everyone in the church today wanted true community then we would have it.
But if people just pretended to want community and in all actuality wanted their private, personal lives to be separate from their church lives, well, we’d have exactly what we have in the church today. We’d have hugs, kisses and gracious hands shakes once or twice a week with little intimate knowledge of each other.
I wish everyone really wanted that feeling of community among the brethren.
I wish fellowship felt much more like family. And I mean the we’re-in-this-together-forever-type of family.
I wish she and I weren’t the strange ones.
