Nullus conjoinem yankee ecclesiae

Church search. No one likes to do it. Church searching is like letting the Cat in the Hat into that ecclesial part of your interior landscape. While you stand agog, he takes apart the furniture, lets loose the gremlins and thoroughly commodifies every established chair, table and lamp you cared to affix. Change, and especially the kind of change that goes along with our Western disposable culture, just doesn't sit well with the church. We sing song's like "The Church's One Foundation" and then pick and choose based on baser criteria: "The parking is crazy." "The minister was too austere." "I didn't know any of the songs we sang." "There aren't any children of Kara's age/gender." "The childcare was haphazard at best." "Seemed like there were mostly older people." "Too much of a blue/white collar culture." "The pastor's bratty kid was rude to Kara!"

A few weeks ago, L and I visited a church. After the service, we went downstairs to collect Caleb. Out of nowhere comes this Yankees fan. "Oh, you're from Boston!" he hyperventilated, "I'm a Yankees fan!" (What, did he want to start something? . . . I mean, I can put these coats down, and this shirt can be washed. We don't have anywhere to be.) The guy just wouldn't stop talking. He was talking when I left my poor wife to get our son and he was talking when I returned. At some point, he was joined by the minister: tall and serious, the smooth darkness of his cloak bespoke Transylvania and the old country or a Fu Manchu. Unable to break into the verbal torrent, Fu stood folding his hands before him, the picture of Kant at his algebra. The five of us were held together nearly in mid-air by the fast-talking Yankee. From behind, an olive skinned man with large, prominent eyes took L's hand and, bending down, raised and kissed it. I kid you not. This happened. "Quick! We have to leave now, lest we be changed into creatures of the night!" Grabbing coats, kids and spouse, I pushed past Fu and the Kisser and, with the berserker-Yank following in verbosity velocity, sprang through a set of double doors into the sunlight. We flung the kids in the Nissan and shut the doors. Panting with effort, L turns to me and says, "Ugh! I can still feel that Yankee fan all over me."

The thing about church search is that it is all about story. You have your story and each church has theirs. It is all narrative, see. This is what L and I have come to understand. We go and visit a church and listen for their story. The building and ministries somewhat tell the tale, as well as what is emphasized in the liturgy (whether intentional or unintentional). What really tells the tale, though, are the people who talk to you. For example, the Yank told us all about how we shouldn't join that church. Turns out, Fu is leaving in a year (no pastor in a year=pastor search); and it was "so nice to have visitors for a change" (he may have even said he couldn't remember the last time the church had seen visitors!) People tell all sorts of horrifying things to visitors. At one church we visited, on the outside a growing, prosperous church, an elder told us they "simply had no idea how to reach their community" and "that's why we're not growing." We've seen enough of that, thank you (I should just hand out a card that says: When in doubt, feed the hungry; visit the sick and those in prison; comfort widows and orphans; in short, go where the need is greatest and get involved. You'll forget all about wondering what you should be doing, there will be too much to do.) Each church has a tale that makes them who they are; each church has a narrative which is the combination of every member of that church.

Of course, we, too, have a narrative. We have where we have been and what we need. We have our experience, our education, and our own theological hang-ups. One thing that continues to plague me is that I seem to always wind up in churches that either don't have a building or have buildings that aren't church buildings. (Why is that?) What we want to know is, can we write our story into your story? Can our story really fit the narrative you are making together? And can our story add anything? How will it change us? How will it change you? And please don't make it hard on us by admitting up-front that you are a Yankees fan!