Give It Time

I was right. I don't mean to be unbearable cocky, but I was right. And I kinda like being right. (You should absolutely read all of those sentences with a degree of levity and sarcasm, even though, yeah, I like being right.)

This sermon was preached at my church on Sunday. You should go listen, then come back and keep reading. (If you fail to follow the listening instructions basically: a woman came to church to explore Christianity, expecting to fulfill a project, and found out that this church was way different than what she expected, in the very best way possible.)

Mostly, I was wonderfully amazed and pleased that she found my church to be who we say we are and who we believe God has called us to be. We're open to people who often haven't been welcome in church, we think critically, we seek justice. What was I right about? It takes time.

She committed to be with us for months. She worshipped here for a year. She came in expecting to hang around for a while. I see people come to my church for a Sunday, or two Sundays, or three Sundays, then disappear. I see my friends try churches in all the different places they live. They go once or twice, then give up.

Y'all. I get it. As much time as I've spent in church, I actually do get how hard it is to walk into a place where you don't know anyone. I psych myself out to make it happen. I back out at the last minute. I sit in my car on the phone in the parking lot once I get there. Then there are the people once you go inside, and that's a whole other daunting thing.

I get that in a whole other way. Whatever crazy thing a church person has said to you, it won't surprise me. Actually, let's go have drinks and talk about all those crazy things. We'll laugh. We'll cry. It'll be great--and holy.

I've worn the wrong thing. I'm pretty much always overdressed after moving to Arizona. More times than I can count, I've said the wrong thing. One time, I was on a boat with people, two of whom were married. They were talking about marriage. I don't remember what, exactly, they were talking about except she said, "I have to do what he says. The Bible says so." I laughed and responded, "Yeah, right!" She was serious. I was the only one laughing. Did I mention we were on a boat? I don't mean a cruise ship. I mean a pontoon. Have you ever considered if you could swim back to shore? I have! (And no, I couldn't.)

So often I remind myself that the disciples got to hang out with Jesus for three years and they still got it wrong a whole lot of the time. I wish it weren't true, but it is: this thing called church takes time.

If you're one of those people who doesn't quite get why people do church, but you're vaguely interested: give it time. I'm serious. Commit to show up for six months, or maybe just three. Every Sunday. Every single Sunday. Bring food or socks or whatever else they're collecting. (In even three months, there should be at least one chance!) Sign up for the workday or serving food to the homeless or whatever else they're doing. (Yep, in three months, there should be at least one chance!)

Give it time. And see what you think then. You might have a whole different outlook if you give it time.