Stories

Not long ago our church’s monthly newsletter arrived neatly folded in my mailbox. In it, Brent offered an account in which he battled a precarious tangle of vines that had taken over the facade of a house.

I found myself falling easily into his story and soon a single word materialized in my mind: superorganism. I found myself asking, what if our church community is this: a superorganism…something more than you and me as individuals…a “we,” if you will? A we that is something other—perhaps something bigger—that only occurs because of you and me?

When first attending this church my life was spinning wildly. I urged for something familiar to lock my eyes onto. Something to make the spinning stop. So I crept into this place. I listened to the messages of hope and inclusion and I basked in that certain feeling I get when I’m in a sacred space.

But I was like a spectre. I wanted to float in quietly alongside the notes of the first hymn and land softly on some distant pew, only to vanish with the last breath of the organ. But I couldn’t. I have a daughter. She attends Sunday school. I couldn’t vanish alongside the last vibration of music at the close of worship. I had to retrieve her.

In that place which was left blurred by the unfamiliar, our “we” began to come into focus. At first it was hands. And then faces. Followed by voices. And then stories. And finally connection.

Our “we.” It allowed me to hide only so much.

I first became seen by we. Then slowly I became a part of we. It began to pull me…twist me, challenge me, and I began to grow in unexpected ways. I was becoming shaped by the we.

Thinking about all of this frightens me. How can I somehow be important…some vital offshoot of a vine growing alongside other vital offshoots, each one managing to be everything yet nothing at the same time? What would possibly make me deserving of such an honor or responsibility? But then again maybe this is where faith comes in.

I see the heartbeat of we pulse through this congregation. It’s the bond that allows our vines to flourish. Bravery in the face of vulnerability. A willingness to give. An openness to receive. A courage to trust. The humility to question.

The patience to be with the unfathomable mystery that is God.