I lucked out that my first congregation I served with after seminary had a parsonage. I didn’t have to worry about enduring a housing search amidst attempting to navigate the terrain of my first big kid job. I also didn’t have to worry about escrow and mortgage payments and dwelling insurance and all the fine print “joys of home ownership.” Of course, when Sarah and I moved to northeast Ohio, that meant we didn’t know the first thing about escrow, mortgage payments, dwelling insurance and all the fine print “joys of home ownership.”
Thankfully, we had friends who lived in the area who could recommend a real estate agent: one who would actually be patient with us…less-than-novice home experts. It certainly wasn’t easy as we still lived in Michigan and trying to coordinate random visits to consider where we would “settle down” into our first own humble abode. It almost feels like a blur now when we were desperately considering square footage and backyards and bedroom/bathroom ratios and character and walkability and a seemingly never-ending list of wants and desires and hopes and dreams. No pressure whatsoever for the people who must work all hours of the days and nights, waiting for just the right one to pop up for their clients, trying to negotiate all the finest of print details, not to mention working in a HGTV television world where more and more people are convinced such life-changing achievements can be found in a comparative half hours’ worth of time. And yet, through it all, she was patient and understanding and dedicated beyond my comprehension, at least, including helping us delve through documents that appeared as if we were staking our entire life on a plot of land with a two-story dwelling. And along the way, we got to know a little more about escrow and mortgage payments and insurance and plenty of other fine print…nonsense.
I often think of her as the wider church encourages us to consider the words we constantly throw around in our own worship dwelling place: recognizing that more and more people don’t know the first thing about narthex, nave, altar, pulpit, lectern, ewer, parament, and not even grace or faith or mercy. I still remember from my seminary days, before moving into that lucky-me parsonage, being encouraged by this one professor to not even be under the impression that any hymn will ever warrant an introduction, “You all know this one…” Not everyone knows “Amazing Grace” or “Silent Night” or “Jesus Loves Me.” That harsh reality check may make plenty of the every-Sunday-church-goers absolutely cringe, perhaps even thinking to themselves (or out loud), “Well, if only you made more of an effort of coming here, you wouldn’t have this problem!” or something along those lines.
And yet, that doesn’t help with the Gospel we’re attempting to promote in this more not-as-church-going world. Yes, it will require a bit more patience and understanding and dedication to a world that God loves just as much now as that of any “good ‘ole days” as well as first century Galilee when God dwelled rather deeply with our humanity. Except, God is still dwelling deeply in us, including the people who walk in the door without the faintest clue about Lutheran liturgy or Communion processing or peace-sharing.
This all came back to mind after finding out last week that our patient and understanding and dedicated-beyond-comprehension real estate agent died after a long bout with cancer. Evidently, she insisted on living with a relentless joy through her mortal end. And I like to think we have that same relentless joy bestowed on us from Jesus Christ, which can hopefully carry over so that we won’t begrudgingly take on a bit more patience or “I guess if I have to” bit more understanding or last resort bit more dedication to the people who may need just a bit more guidance. The statistics continue to show that they haven’t given up on God, but they certainly wonder if the church has given up on them. I hope we haven’t, because even though there was that seemingly insurmountable blur for us, there was always someone more than willing to lovingly stick it out with us to the end and beyond. We know Christ will, and I can only hope that the church will always join in, too. Amen (so let it be)!
In Christ,
Pastor Brad