to be a bar fly on the wall

I wanted to be in two places at once on Sunday evening. I wanted to be sitting at the bar and experiencing what it was like to hear bits of the verses of "Halleluia, we sing your praises" drifting in from the next room. I wanted to catch glimpses of bread and wine being lifted up and words being spoken in unison by a community. I wanted to see what it was like to be a regular at the bar, and wonder what was happening in the next room. But I couldn't be in two places at once.

Tuesday night Charles Bishop set up the projector and already had Wasteland playing when we showed up at Liberty Station on Washington. This was our second "Sustainability Series" movie night and brought out about twenty people, once again. And, like the first one there were only a handful of churchy types there. Word went out through Urban Harvest's newsletter, Pancho and Leftey's blog, fliers  at Liberty Station and Catalina Coffee, and most importantly word-of-mouth. This time, the movie was the Tuesday before we would have Sunday Eucharist in that same space. 

Sunday evening, I picked up our bread from Revival Market and headed to Liberty Station early to order our wine from the bar. Michele, Pam, and I worked out the music. Isaiah and Rob moved the foosball table, and rearranged the chairs to accommodate a larger group conversation, but that was easy enough. 

I think the reason that I really wanted to be a bar-fly and priest at the same time (two places at once) is because I am so curious about the public face of the church. We don't usually throw that word around Between-the-Bayous, we usually refer to it as a community, which is appropriate. But here I mean, specifically, the church. Recently I have had the opportunity to be out and about on Sunday mornings: Laura and I went to a  movie at 11 a.m. this Sunday. I've been to a grocery store other weeks. The whole time I am conscious that I am not in church. But I'm the only one. Most of the world is going about normal business on Sunday mornings perhaps clueless that people are gathering for worship all across the city and country and world. Or, maybe they are well aware that churches are gathered and they are intentionally avoiding those gatherings. I have had some conversations with folks who don't do church, but are curious about my being a priest. They are open to conversation about the deep questions (life, death, spirit, etc.) and actually seeking conversation about those very real topics. Those folks, the curious ones, generally would rather not attend a conventional church because they don't perceive church as a place where they can be on their spiritual journey (by any other name) or where they can ask those deep questions. Whether or not that is true for any particular church is another matter. But my experience has been that these are the same questions we deal with weekly. The challenging reality is that that is not the perception.

I'm only mildly interested in questions about how we got here: the church being isolated and perceived as such a cold, unengaged community. I'm more interested in how to change that perception. What is the public face of the church? What could it be? 

I believe part of the answer is getting out more. Eucharist at Liberty Station is only a small example of that. Being willing to engage with friends and strangers in the deeper questions is another way to get out there. And being comfortable with not having the right answers is also important. The Spirit is at work all around us. There are little bar flies in the next room listening and wondering what we are doing. But they will probably stay over at the bar, so we are going to have to be in two places at once. Keep the church community going, but get out.

I did finally make it over to the bar, after we responded to being fed at Christ's table, and were sent out from that event, I headed to the bar to buy a beer. There I asked someone about her tatoos, and learned that each arm was decorated with images she grew up seeing in her grandmother's kitchen. Two roosters on her right arm, and a peacock on her left...And there was the Gospel: "yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade."