It’s hot… Well, hotter than it has been. Right now, someone is scanning Pinterest for a home sunburn remedy likely involving “essential oils.” Sand has become the unwelcome stowaway in car backseats after this Sunday’s recent all church trip to the seaside. Working parents of elementary school aged kids are grappling with the every-morning jealousy of the their children. Because, despite what they know about the proverbial real world, they can’t help the feeling that they’ve been robbed of an entitled three month vacation.
No matter how we approach it, summer is upon us. I have to wonder, looking out at the next few weeks of my time with family (more camping), traveling (Today, I’m renewing my favorite love-hate relationship with Texas. It’s the place where every meal is like state fair faire. It’s remarkable how much can be served fried. People are friendly. Everything deemed truly astounding by someone necessitates that he or she says, “Man, thass aw-sum!” Any gathered group addressed in the second person is ALWAYS referred to as “y’all” — sometimes as “all y’all” for added emphasis. But, never is any group of people “you guys.” Everyday, is a miserable, stifling heat that Texans seem to wear as a sweaty badge of honor. Something, I’ll never fully understand.), visiting churches, and hearing from God about the future of Mariners MV.
A critical part of that future, is a Mariners Church without a central dividing wall in our worship center. On Monday, crews began their prep work. The picture below was taken from the stage, looking out, up the aisles. Clearly, some of you have now lost your favorite seats.
This “retrofit” as it’s technically called, signals the beginning of a new era for us as a church. I guess, in a lot of ways, it’s more of a recollection of who we have always intended to be. Mariners MV is a place for people longing for the power and connection of real relationships in the midst of a life often filled with struggle. It’s a place for people wrestling with the big questions of their purpose and significance. And, foremost, it’s a place where people can discover what a life with Jesus looks like — perhaps for the first time.
It is often in participating in our collective worship (sometimes merely observing it) where apprehensive outsiders and open-minded, curious skeptics discover something that couldn’t otherwise be expressed in words. The writer, Anne Lamont says it this way about her first experience in church:
“…And this time I stayed for the sermon, which I thought was ridiculous, like someone trying to convince me of the existence of extraterrestrials, but the last song was so raw and deep and pure that I could not escape. It was as if the people were singing between the notes, weeping and joyful at the same time, and I felt like their voices or something was rocking me in its bosom, holding me like a scared kid, and I opened up to that feeling — and it washed over me.”
Our divided worship center is something we can grow somewhat accustomed to. Remember what it was like when you first came into the room? Remember how you thought it was crazy? Then, slowly and almost imperceptibly, you discovered ways of making it fine — another idiosyncrasy that when repeatedly overlooked through the passage time, becomes mostly invisible. But, it undeniably interferes with the ability of people looking for an authentic experience in worship. And, it unknowingly divides us — those on the inside — from each other.
I’m grateful for a church so committed to seeing this project through to the end. While there is much work to be done, I can’t thank you enough for your generosity in this endeavor. If you’d like to join in this project and have not yet done so, visit our website, select “MV Impossible Project Campaign” from the drop down menu. Or, if you have more questions about the project, please contact Wendi Kato (wkato@marinerschurch.org) to receive a packet with more details. I’m overjoyed at all that God is doing in our midst. I’m grateful to be your pastor.
I’ll be seein’ all y’all real shortly,
Jeff
