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On the campus of my small non-denominational Christian college were two paths. They formed a circle between the residential and academic sides of campus. Attending the college were about 1,000 students, mostly out-of-state kids excited to ski for Jesus. There was a custom that was quickly learned by each student: correct path etiquette. Although there were 2 paths one was bigger and well-traveled while the other one stunk like goose poop. If you wanted to see and be seen, you took the bigger path. If you wanted to hide - you breathed in fumes of digested goose food.

While on the main path when encountering another student you looked up to catch the eye of the oncoming student and you smiled a nice, healthy smile (teeth please) and you said, “Hi, how are you?”. All of this happened without stopping motion and the encounter was therefore brief.

2 Things You Did Not Want To Do:

1. Don’t look up too soon - timing was important because if you caught the student’s eyes too early then you would be stuck looking up and down and smiling until the appropriate time to talk and this was…awkward.

2. Do not forget to say your line, “Hi. How are you?” Always. One line. Easy to memorize but like all acting challenges difficult to say with truth.

When I first had this path encounter I thought it was great. It made everyone seem so friendly. It made everyone connect. But, slowly my anticipation of these encounters wore thin. I began to see that although a very important question was asked no one stuck around to get an answer. Everyone now seemed a fraud. No one really wanted to be my friend, no matter how many times we passed each other on the path, nothing was really happening. No connecting.

Fast forward to my first year out of college. I’m jaded and cynical and have a really bad attitude about Christian education and my first job post-graduation was as a receptionist. A church receptionist. For a really big church. With lots of money and lots of people. And my attitude worsened. The same thing was happening here , and with adults who should have known better! I couldn’t believe that adults with degrees in people and God were asking me “how are you?” and walking away before I answered. I began to try and answer honesty, but with efficiency, sharing things like, “I’m tired” or “I have to go to the bathroom” and I also began to try and just say, “Hi” and it was difficult. I didn’t realize how linked the greeting and the question were.

They are still linked. People still ask without the time or desire to hear a real answer. And often…people don’t even answer honestly…even if there is time…

I’m still tired of this path experience. For too long I’ve wanted to be known and so have chosen to walk the big path only to be smiled at without truth and listened to without ears. For too long I’ve wanted to hide and have breathed in lies about my ability to walk with others in the sunshine and clean air.

There is no easy solution. No “steps” to take but the step…a step…I’m talking about an actual physical step. A step forward to stand next to another person. The step that takes you out of the house toward the car toward your community of friends and faith. The step that takes you out of your seat next to your close friend and across the room towards the face you’ve never seen before (or have seen a million times). The step that brings you to the front of the room where you can tell your part of our story that will connect us all more deeply.

Community. I’m discovering that this word is so much more than a walk around a path with pre-scripted lines and eye contact. I think it’s about improvising. A quick nervous hug here, an intimate soul baring conversation there, In a coffee shop, a bathroom, after a movie night, in a car singing “Old MacDonald had a………” and sticking around to hear just what that old farmer was keeping around his barn. Hopefully it’s not goose poop.

For some this word describes an activity that we participate in weekly. Something that we “do”. 

For others this words describes a place, a building where we go to participate in something. Someplace where we “go”.

I don’t remember who said this, but I remember reading or hearing that we need to stop saying we are “going” to church, because we are the church. We can’t go someplace when we are the place itself. And not just the place but the soul within the place.

Can the “we” as the church stop being a place and return to being a person?

And as people we are needy. Even if you don’t feel like you have emotional needs you have physical needs, you don’t just like food, water, roofs, shoes, you need them. And I venture to say that in the dark of your mind and heart you may know some other things that you need.

I think my church is needy. Like, really needy, like ravingly insecure, freakishly needy. And people don’t always like me.

I think lots of people believe that the church does not need people. 

The church always needs money and bigger facilities and more help in the nursery, but the church doesn’t need people. At least not in the way that people need people. If the church is a place and an activity then those things don’t need, those things don’t have emotions, those things are things…not people.

But what happens when a church (remember not a building but a group of people) is very obviously needy and needy in the sense that they need people. Not just money, or better facilities or more help in the nursery, but people. And not in the sense that people = numbers=money=success=better Christians, but in the sense that hearts and dreams and talents and minds are needed. Are you humming the Streisand tune, “People?  “People…people who need people are the luckiest people in the world.” When and why did this stop holding truth?

I am certain and certainly fearful that I need people. So that means that my church needs people and I think my church is pretty obvious about that. When someone leaves us that loss is grieved. Grieved. Tears, anger, denial, all five steps of grief. I think in our neediness we place a lot of importance on each person and this is difficult for the other person to take.

It means you are important.

It means we want you. And it is not easy to be loved and wanted.

It means we all are responsible, you are responsible and we often don’t want anymore responsibility than we already have.

I think because my church is needy in this way, because I am needy in this way, we are/I am looked at as weak, unsuccessful, failing, wilting and stupid. People think we should be strong, but strong as in brick building, 2-story, 5 services, 35 person staff, million dollar budget strong and I don’t think that is real strength.

I can’t stop needing. It’s a wound in my person that can’t be closed. But, my wound, although tender, isn’t bleeding. Not really. I’m just oozing me. My self. Sounds dangerous, but it isn’t really, not when people are there to stand next to my ooze, willing to get it on their shoes, on their hands. They see me as a person, not a place, not an activity, but a woman who needs love and who has love to give. They see me as part of the church, a body part of a body, sometimes a hand, maybe a brain here and there, or at least a big toe, but always a heart. And they see a strength not a weakness. They know that even if I never have money or a big house or help out a lot in the nursery that I’m still worthy and I know that even if all those thing aren’t true about you that you are worthy too.

A needy person, a needy church…in need of provision, shelter, protection, salvation, love…doesn’t sound too bad, doesn’t sound untrue…sounds a little like…me…you…us…

Don’t you want to stand next to me? Don’t you want to let me love you? Let me, let the church love you. She can, He will.