My Church serves as a big part of my life, and in case you didn't know me, that was not always the case.
I found a little church four years ago. I call it a little church, because it feels like one, even though it isn't. It's set in an old pharmacy, and the parking lot and building are at max capacity most every Sunday. But somehow, in some way, it maintains this feeling of a small church community.
When I was beginning to become entrenched in it, the church was once described to me by a big tattoo'ed biker friend who plays drums there, as the black sheep of the denomination. And I love that description, because it encompasses the feeling of the place so well. Where anyone is welcome, in the middle of the cold urban sprawl, and where miscreants, degenerates, and the unchurched all land.
Our Pastor often tells us that the church is full of hypocrites, and there is always room for one more. You won't find judgement in the walls of this place. It feels more like a refuge from that.
This was a church that started so small in someone's basement, packed full of friends, until a collapsed couch showed the space's misgivings. They moved all about to find a space to call home, from community centres to school gyms, they lugged their gear every week. Their determination was stone.
In the hub of the town on a busy street corner, they found what they were looking for. An old pharmacy building, with it's little parking lot and space for childrens' ministry, and for twelve years now it has rendered. And it has been a draw in the community, bringing stories of the unchurched to the warm church within.
This place has the air of a church that is doing things differently. The pastor is not afraid to reference the LGBTQ community in welcome. He is not afraid to reach out to people in need. He will step on toes to protect what it happening in our church, and he will look outside the box to see the amazing opportunities that his community finds to bring Jesus to the world outside of the walls of the church.
His wife is also in ministry. She is well known and admired for her love for Youth and her dedication to their ministry. She has taken strides that have been previously unknown to women in her field in our corner of the world. She is fierce, and she is determined. She is strength, personified. She speaks, and people listen. She can change the world, and she has changed ours, by showing our young girls what can happen when you believe in yourself and fight for your worth. She has broken the mold and stepped into a field dominated by men, and she doesn't even see how amazing she is. She is humble, and kind, and doesn't realize the inspiration that she is, for so many.
A change is afoot for this little church, as the leadership changes, and our pastoral family heads off for new adventure on the west coast of Canada. They will be severely and deeply missed, and there will be an open hole in our community for a long time when they leave. They have been more than just a ministry team, they have been mentors, friends, and confidants. They work together to find the right answers, and when they don't - they humble themselves and apologize. They right their wrongs. They help restore people's faith, and they nurture a culture of creativity, love and freedom in spiritual beliefs. They are an incredible team who impact lives daily. The gap that they leave will be a hard one to fill.
We are left wondering about the future of our little church. We'll survive. People move all the time. But the passion and grace and trust offered to us by our Pastors is something that will be hard to match. When the world wants to hate on churches all the time, most would no longer consider that it would be a catalyst for growth and community outreach.
And anyone who speaks so highly of a church and the community, must surely be part of a cult?
And anyone who goes from zero to sixty in their spiritual life must surely have "drank the koolaid", right?
But the truth is, sometimes you find a place that is so in touch with everything you want to be, and helps you find things that you had no idea you were missing. And when you find that, you will find a way to make it work. And even though we may not ever want things to change, they will, and we have to be able to swim with and against the current.
We are the blacksheep.
We are the people who do not feel at home in other churches.
That isn't likely to change. And as a community, who feels like a family, we are earnestly hopeful that our little church doesn't change too much either.
