Yesterday Jeff Chu guest posted on Rachel Held Evan’s blog. In it, he wrote his dream for what the Church could become:
What we need, more than ever, is a church where we can shed the pretenses, and bring our doubts, our big questions, and our bigger fears. I don’t think I’m alone in desiring that. What I suspect many of us crave is a church where we can be our whole, ugly-beautiful selves…
Can we be these people in church? We must be—and the church that I’m talking about is not a building but the collection of the people who are trying their best to walk with Jesus. It does not end at 12:15 on Sundays. It’s wherever we and our hopes and our complicated, messy lives are. It’s a place where we aren’t afraid to say, “I don’t know.” …
Can we build a church that welcomes our mutual strengths but also allows—and even embraces—our confessions of weakness? Can we be that community?
These words filled my heart with hope.
This is for what our house church is striving. We are such a small community. And we seem to be the only one, at least in our city, with this vision. We seem to be.
But knowing there are others with a similar vision is such an encouragement. Knowing that the thing which God has laid upon my heart is being laid upon others’, as well. Knowing that it wasn’t a fluke. That this is one of the ways God is moving in our nation (or maybe even our world) today. It’s encouraging.
Because what we’re doing isn’t always visible. It doesn’t draw mega-church-sized crowds. It isn’t advertised on the radio or spotlighted with guest speakers or concerts. It’s profound, but it’s not glamorous. It’s the nitty-gritty day-to-day.
So it gives me hope to know that this often unnoticed work, this vision of the day-to-day, is going on across this land. We’re not alone in this. We’re walking shoulder-to-shoulder with countless others who are pursuing the same vision.
And if we’re not alone, if God is placing this vision on the hearts of many, that means it may one day be the reality of Church in our land. And that fills me with hope.