God in a living room...

One of the things about having a church without a building is a distinct lack of programs. I'm not sure why programs and buildings are so intricately connected, but it appears that they are.

The cool part is that without fixed programmatic infrastructure, people in the congregation are free (time-wise and permission-wise) to develop their own ministries as needs come up.

For example, John and I started RDFL based on a conversation with a grad student about how valuable eating out together was on Sundays for connection, but how difficult it could be on your pocketbook when finances were tight. With the multiple tables in my house, it can function like a restaurant when needed. So, the first Sunday of every month, John and I make lunch. Which has not only been fun, but has also given us the chance to connect with a lot of the younger people in our church we might not otherwise know. (Up to you now to figure out what RDFL stands for.)

Last night, I went to "Second Sunday Sing." Nancy-the-Insightful's husband, Peter-the-Pilot wanted an opportunity for dedicated worship. So, the second Sunday of each month, Peter leads worship in a living room for whoever wants to come. Peter printed the songs in these beautiful little books, and we sang. And I don't know how else to explain it except God came. I'd forgotten the power of dedicated worship in a small group of people because I don't often get that opportunity. It is cool to me that Peter saw that need, then simply made it happen.

You know that part of the Dr. Seuss book when the Grinch has dismantled all of the pieces and parts of Christmas?

Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing. Without any presents at all.
He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming. IT CAME.
Somehow or other, it came just the same.
And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?
It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
"It came without packages, boxes or bags!"
And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.
"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more."


It occurs to me we could subsitute the word Church for Christmas without any problem at all.
© Random Cathy
Maira Gall