Faceless

The new church I started attending this year, on Easter Sunday of all days, is everything I was afraid that it would be. 

I attend the 8 a.m. service, and I don't know anyone there. A couple of acquaintances have come in, but I haven't really talked to them. I show up, I walk in, I sit by myself, I worship, and I walk out. 

And yet, when I walk in, I am greeted heartily by no fewer than four persons before I even get in the front door. I am acknowledged, rejoiced with, and welcomed. There is nothing inside the church that feels like it is off-limits; I do not feel like a visitor, but like someone they were expecting all along. Someone who is free to engage in whatever I want to inside the building - at my own pace, by my own choosing. 

One of the things I quickly noticed was that there is nothing for me to do there. I had been worried about that, too. At my former church, I was involved in everything. I have done mission trips, building maintenance, benevolence ministries. I have operated the a/v equipment, passed plates, greeted at the door, sung on the praise team, played the piano, offered devotionals, prayed, and even preached once. I helped coordinate VBS, taught Sunday school, staffed the nursery. I even painted the bathrooms and fixed a plumbing leak. One of the things that scared me about finding a new church was losing my ministry - losing my opportunity to serve. I wondered if I would ever find another place that would give me the opportunities that my former church had given me over the years.

The truth is, I had lost my ability to be in a church; I had become a person who could only do in a church. 

But I walked into this new church, and nobody was looking for me. Nobody was needing anything from me. Nobody expected me to serve in any capacity. None at all. There was no last-minute absence from the praise team, no desperate plea for an extra usher. I wasn't even expected to hold the door open for the person behind me...because there was already a team of persons holding the door open. 

What do you do in church when you've been a do-er for so long? What do you do when your biggest fears are coming true and there is, in fact, nothing for you to do here? 

You worship. 

I sat in that church, and for the first time in more than 20 years, I simply worshipped. That's it. I engaged with the service in a way that I haven't in such a very long time, and it was amazingly refreshing. 

Of course, there will come a time when I will begin looking for ways to serve with my new brothers and sisters. God has called us to that, and He's certainly wired me that way. But I already sense that it will be a healthier balance for me when I do. I will find a way to serve that will not diminish my worship the way I previously let it. And I'm looking forward to both of those things - serving and continuing to worship. 

I worried when I found a new church that I wouldn't have any friends there. I mourned the loss of my connections from my former church. I want connection. I want relationship. God made us for that, and it's important. But right now, I don't have that. Everyone waves and smiles and greets me and is friendly, but we haven't really connected yet; not in a meaningful way. 

And yet, I'm really enjoying being faceless for a bit, too. What I'm finding is that it puts the burden on me to create my own experience. To engage in the ways that I choose to engage and want to engage. To make the opportunities that I want. To choose what I do and when I do it and how I do it. It has put me back in control of my spiritual life of worship and community, and that...is a beautiful gift that I didn't expect. 

So my new church..it's everything I was afraid it would be. It's a place where I am not known, where I am not connected, and where there's nothing for me to do. And yet, I'm loving it anyway. 

God has a strange way of doing things.