Today, I’m participating in the series “At the Lord’s Table: A Discussion,” hosted by Preston Yancy.
My post is one in a series of over 50 posts from varying authors about the beautiful, mangled Church. Rather than rant and complain about the failings and flaws of the organization known as the church, Preston asked us to find beauty and celebrate that in these posts.
Here is my contribution.
Church. For thirty-five years, I think of buildings when I hear the word. I think of white steeples, stiff formality and equally stiff pews, cerebral one-way lectures, that distinctive old-building smell, organ music, neck ties, panty hose, and patent leather. On a rare day, I also think of crisp sunrise services in a park at the foot of the mountains and the aroma of eggs scrambling on camp stoves mingling with perking coffee.
I hear through childhood that Church is people who love God and function in a harmony that mirrors a body, The Body of Jesus Christ. My parents remind me over and over that “Church” is not the building we spend our Sunday mornings inside. It doesn’t matter. I can’t stop associating the place with the word. I can’t wrap my head and heart around the expansive worldwide beautiful people-ness that is Church.