Without going into detail, I felt snubbed, ignored, and even talked about by some people. Two people, other than my friend (who also happens to be the children's pastor), spoke to me. I have been attending this church for about a decade (both in college and for the last seven years since we have come back), and I honestly almost left the sanctuary in tears before the hunt began. I stayed for the hunt for Bubby's benefit, but we left before the remainder of the festivities. Why would I want to sit by myself amidst a group of people who are called to be unified?
We can sing about the death and resurrection power and love of Christ, but is it affecting our lives? Are we really the Sunday morning people?
This morning we went back for service. It had been awhile since I'd attended service in the main sanctuary since we have switched to the service across the campus. But this morning was intergenerational, so I returned to the sanctuary. And I felt love from people of many generations. A lady at the phase of mommy-ing just ahead of me chatted with me for quite some time before service. An older lady that I have just recently met waved and intentionally took a moment to come say hello to me. We had lunch with our young adult friends, chatted with people, passed our baby around. These are the Sunday morning people. These are the people moving outside of their cliques and demonstrating the love of Christ.
Same church. Twenty-four hour difference. A different set of people. Entirely different experience.
The love of the cross, the power of the resurrection, is not to enable us to do what we want in our nice Christian club. Easter enables us to live holy lives, to move beyond ourselves and truly care about other people, and that is not comfortable for some. Are we really the Sunday morning people or are we just people who show up for Sunday mornings?
decided to link up with Emily's imperfect prose community - perhaps others can relate to this brokenness/redemptiveness