|I hope I don't look like this,|
but I'm not ruling it out.
As a kid, I had emotional armor as thick as a Humvee, which makes it no surprise to anyone - except myself of course - that I am now, as an adult, a weepy worshiper. That's right I'm a
town church cryer (sorry, I could not resist!). I have been known to get verklempt:
- At baptisms for kids who I don't know from Adam
- At funerals for people I barely met
- Over fortune cookies with my pastor
- At strategic planning committee meetings (this takes advanced weepiness)
- With my career/leadership coach
- Almost every time I take communion
- Whenever anyone else cries
- During awesome sermons/ praise songs/ prayers/ candles of sorrow - or any other element of worship except perhaps for the doxology, but I would not rule it out for the future!
Tonight was no exception. I was visiting a wonderful, amazing, this-could-be-love church in a nearby neighborhood and found myself in full-on weepy mode. The congregation was celebrating a big moment in the lives of three of its members - a family had just finalized the adoption of their son while at the same time having to say goodbye to the church that they clearly loved because they were moving out of state. In some places this would have been a bulletin announcement - here it was practically the theme of the entire service.
Some folks may be thinking - what sentimentality! or even, how exploitative! I assure you it was none of these. What is was was people sharing in each other's lives, their real lives - not the kind you write in Christmas letters - within a church family. And that has never ceased to move me.
In today's culture it's rare to find that kind of real life community. We can have friendships, lovers, colleagues, spouses, companions, facebook and twitter connections etc. but only within a church family can you find 20 or 50 or 100 people who will be there to share collectively in the messiness, struggles and celebrations that we each encounter.
Jesus calls us to follow him - not alone but united as one body. And that's something I won't ever stop choking-up over.