experience is powerful

A good friend from college recently mentioned to me, “We’re changed by the people we know, the books we read, and the places we go”! 3 simple phrases that give expression to the desires of my heart.

In keeping with going places, I had the opportunity to briefly visit 2 different churches in Portland last weekend. I had some idea of what the places would be like from books I’ve read. Navigating our pre-planned itinerary, we arrived at a beautiful high school in a residential section of town. We were greeted by a professionally made temporary banner announcing that we had arrived at more than a high school. This was the church, Imago Dei. Rushing to what appeared to be a front entrance (we were late) we quickly followed temporary interior signage to where the “big thing” (church) was happening. The speaker was already addressing the crowd of what had to be at least 500 people predominantly under the age of 40. Around the room were placed little tables adorned with flickering candles and supplied with bread and wine/grape juice for people to partake of during the appropriate time near the end of the service while the band played. I was reminded of a holiday that we don’t celebrate in Canada, as Martin Luther King Jr.’s famous “I Have A Dream” speech was played during the service. Of course you can’t get much of a true feel for what the gathering of believers is really like by simply taking in part of one service. I left enjoying some of the elements of my experience, but not feeling like there was much real difference from anything else I have experienced lately.

With a little time to kill before the next stop on our church route, we (I was accompanied by my wife) scavenged through a couple of 2^nd hand stores coming up with some good “loot”. Pushing the boundaries of time again, we wove our way through traffic to find ourselves out front of a little old fashioned looking church building, again in a residential area. This time a handwritten little sign placed on the sidewalk almost whispered that we had arrived at The Bridge.

If walking into the building attempted to take us back in time, entering the sanctuary quickly propelled us into the present. It was an assault to the senses of this sheltered country boy. Of course I’ve heard earsplitting loud music before and seen people in very individualistic and creative attire (interpreted as liberal use of tattoos, body metal, and a rainbow of clothing styles and colors), but finding these young people all crowed into what’s called a church building took a bit of time to absorb. I hoped that my wife and I wouldn’t look like we were too much in awe. Fitting with the American holiday at present, MLK’s speech was again used as a springboard for the lessons of the day.

Once the initial shock to my senses subsided, some things began to emerge. I notice that salt and peppered around the room were hand percussion instruments of all kinds. The music was not just an up front performance, but a community effort. It was a music that, to these folks, seemed to penetrate past the cranium and reach deep into their souls causing many of them to not be able to sit still or be quiet. I noticed the freedom that many people felt to be themselves in either raising their hands and nearly dancing to just sitting quietly. There was ample opportunity for anyone, including children, to express something from the front (an idea, question, frustration, etc) even as a response to the speaker. While there was a subtle direction (agenda) to the event, it didn’t seem to overpower the experience. Clean starts and stops were not present. Things just kind of flowed in an erratic way more like a family gathering in a living room. And to add to that family feeling, this gathering was no larger than maybe 50-60 people.

The teacher/speaker for the day was a woman pastor from another similar church (this was the first time I met or heard of her) called The Refuge from Colorado. I loved her simple down to earth manner of sharing some very meaningful ideas. Turns out she co-pastors with some other folks in her church. I thought that was beautiful. Just like the medical field needs the unique influence of women, so does the spiritual!

I had a great time meeting some of the folks afterward whose blogs I’ve been following and chatting with the speaker. I left the church feeling that I’d just experienced a family gathering rather than a big well rehearsed show. I sensed community and equality. The experience reminded me of the title of Rick Mckinley’s book-This Beautiful Mess. While the style of sights and sounds do not naturally cater to my preferences, I felt attracted to the glaring beauty of God's presence evident amongst His kids no matter what they look like, sound like, or how they gather. In fact, it seems that the down to earth simple manner in which they gathered simply gave more room for God’s work to shine brighter.

This was indeed a gathering like no other and I was grateful to have the opportunity to briefly share in it!