Full Circle

Today I had one of those weird, rare moments where I was able to step outside myself and view my life for the past few years as a spectator.

As proteges we read a different book each month. This month the book was UnChristian by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons. This was not the first time I had read this book. I had actually read it about four years ago. I confessed to a couple of my fellow proteges just before our meeting that I had actually not reread the book but since I remembered it pretty well I figured I'd still be ready for discussion. Josh Stockstill, the discipleship protege said, "Well that's okay. The book already changed your life, what more could you really hope to get out of it?" I laughed but he was actually completely right. That book had changed my life.

Now I'm not one of those people that reads or hears something and then tells everyone how it changed my life blah blah blah. But this time it was true. Not because I found something the authors said to be particularly poignant or something. I mean, I enjoyed the book but that wasn't it. Deep in the middle of the book was a passage written by a pastor in Washington, DC. He was explaining why his church built a coffeehouse instead of a church building. He said that Jesus hung out at the wells and since coffeehouses are postmodern wells, it only made sense. This is a place where the community and church can cross paths. As I read those words, I remember having this uncontrollable excitement fill me. I had been telling people about this idea I had for a coffeehouse. It would be nonprofit and would give back to the community. I had a hard time completely explaining it but I knew I would know if I ever saw it. And here it was. Someone I had never met, or even heard of, was perfectly articulating my vision.

I immediately Googled that church and the pastor and read the passage aloud to my roommates. They now had a new understanding of what I had been trying to tell them for so long. I was not only excited, I was encouraged.

Now, when I read those words I had no intention of packing up and moving to DC. I thought it might be interesting to visit this church sometime, just for a frame of reference but that was all. But something changed that day. A seed was planted. After that, in the back of my mind was always this church in DC doing ministry in a way I could relate to. In a way I believed in. It's hard to ignore that.

Fast forward four years and I'm sitting in a circle in the NCC offices discussing this very same book, even the same old copy. My old book opens easily to that same passage now and reveals the star I scribbled in the margin next to it that day. It was a bit surreal.

What if I had never read that book four years ago? Where would I be? What if that book had been like so many others I have purchased, only to sit on my shelf for years before I got around to reading them? Would I have heard of NCC or Ebenezers or Mark Batterson? That is crazy to think about.

It also makes me want to get around to reading all of those unread books of mine...

I am not an appendix.

Every Tuesday morning at NCC we have an all staff meeting. Well...meeting might be a bit strong, it is more like an all staff gathering. Honestly its one of my favorite parts of the week. The entire staff stops what they are doing to come together and share what has been happening in the past week. There is no agenda or official minutes, but I sometimes come out of those meetings feeling like more was accomplished in that last half hour than in any of the official "meetings" I have had at other jobs.

Each week one staff member shares a short devotional during the meeting. This past Tuesday was my turn. Now let me remind you...I am on staff at a church. A church. Full of pastors. Pastors that are great at what they do. Great thinkers and communicators that know a ton more about the Bible than I ever have. I work in the coffeehouse. So what in the world was I possibly going to share with this group of people? What could I have to say that would make an ounce of difference to any of them? It's not that I thought that they would be sitting there booing me, because these are beautiful, kind people. But what if I got one of those terrible to pronounce Bible names or places? What if my interpretation was weak or kind-of a stretch? What if I just didn't communicate well?

The Biblical metaphor that has always resonated with me, is the idea that we are the body of Christ. If we are a "body," then we all have a role. A distinct separate role, that can all work together for a common goal. No one part is better than another. Each is separate yet united. I love this idea. I love it, but I became aware this week that I am not sure that I fully believe it.

When faced with sharing this devotional, I felt like I was sharing to a roomful of lungs, hearts and brains of the body. I was a mere appendix. Not really that useful at all and really not of much value to the entire body. Shoot, I know numerous people that have had theirs removed and they don't even feel a difference now that its gone. I felt like an appendix.

But I was still required to share a devotional with these vital organs, so I did. I changed my topic a couple of times before landing on the thing that was closest to my heart. I shared on a topic that I am passionate about and I shared as honestly as I could. To my surprise as I spoke and I looked around, not to see the room full of people I feel are smarter and more spiritual than myself judging me for skipping the hard to pronounce words from the Bible references, but to see smiles and nods. They were listening. To me.

When I finished, I felt like God showed me something. I was not an appendix after all. The point of that metaphor is not to seek out the most useless organ and identify with that, but instead to understand that we are all vital organs. Throughout the day I had people I really respect tell me they appreciated what I had to say and how I said it. I don't say this to boost my own ego but to say that God is teaching me that we all are vital. We all have a voice. Even me. I am not an appendix. Neither are you.