wanted: community

I don't wanna ride on somebody else's passion

I don't wanna find that I'm just dry bones. 

Truth: I haven't gone to church in years.

Actually, that's not true. I've gone to services on Christmas eve in Moncton, been to a few special events like concerts and speakers and even covered a few different events which have brought me into a place of worship. 

One Easter, I spent the morning in a gymnasium, covering a Catholic service for a church that had burned to the ground in December.  During the local music festival, I went to recitals held in church halls and I've gone to the local synagogue every year since I started working at the newspaper to cover the Holocaust remembrance service. 

But I haven't attended a Sunday service since I stopped going home to Nova Scotia during the summer. 

If you know me from home, this might come as a surprise.

I started going to my home church when I was about eight or nine years old. It wasn't a family thing -  my brother and I started going to youth group with the kids next door and over time, several other kids in the neighbourhood started going, too. The pastor, his wife and a few others at the church would come to our place (no one in the neighbourhood had a car and the church was the next town over) and we'd all pile into the cars for the trip. And when I say pile, I mean pile - we likely broke some occupancy rules making those trips from Porter's Lane to Munroe Avenue. Eventually, the group had grown to such a size that it merited purchasing a 15-passenger van and driving home, there were so many stops to drop people off that it was like riding a transit bus. No one complained, though.

I met Jesus through youth group. I'm not sure exactly when I decided to start going to Sunday services, but it didn't take long for the church to become a big part of my life. I went to teen group, started teaching Sunday school, sang in the choir and became a regular volunteer at vacation bible school. It got to a point where if I wasn't at school, at work or out with friends, there was a pretty good chance I was at church. My church community was really important to me - it still is, even though I don't get home all that often.

For a lot of the friends I've made in Fredericton, this is surprising for a different reason. The first time I talked about teaching Sunday school or singing in church choir, the response was to the effect of "wow, I never would have guessed you were into that." Sad as that is, though, it's not surprising given  the season I ventured into when I went off to university.

Not to mention even if I wanted to go to church, it would have been a challenge - I worked every Sunday, first at the grocery store and later at the campus paper. Between work and travel time, Sunday services haven't fit my schedule in years.

For the body is not one member, but many.

1 Corinthians 12:14

  

Why write about this now? Why does this matter? Because for the last few months, I've been feeling a little stalled and the more I think about it, the more sure I am it's the result of a lack of community.

Since last spring, I've done a lot on my own to encourage spiritual growth. I didn't just start reading my bible - I started studying it. I started taking prayer seriously and actually thinking about what being a follower of Christ should look like.

And it's been great. My commitment to Jesus and his Kingdom is stronger now than it's ever been. But there's only so much you can do on your own.

I just finished reading Shane Claiborne and Tony Campolo's Red Letter Revolution. I've had the book since May, when Jeff and I saw Shane speak at a church in Bedford while we were in Halifax for the Atlantic Journalism Awards, but my to-read pile has been pretty big so it took a while to get to it.

One of the things Shane talks about - when he speaks and in his writing - is the importance of community, which includes the church. The third chapter of the book with Tony addresses the church and essentially says while it's more important to be a follower of Jesus, the church is still a valuable institution despite it's flaws. Although the two men point out the fact that many young people attracted to Red Letter Christianity see this as a reason to turn to "religionless Christianity," they argue it's more beneficial to work toward creating the church we want than complaining about the one we have.

"God is restoring all things. Institutions like the church are broken just like people, and they are being healed and redeemed. So I think of the church kind of like a dysfunctional parent. It's been famously said, "The church is a whore, but she's my mother."

The church needs discontentment. It is a gift to the kingdom, but we have to use our discontentment to engage rather than to disengage. We need to be part of repairing what is broken rather than jumping ship. One of the pastors in my neighbourhood said 'I like to think about the church like Noah's Ark. That old boat must have stunk bad inside. But if you try to get out, you'll drown.'"

Red Letter Revolution, Dialogue on the Church, pg. 22

I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to address my situation yet. The nature of my job means planning is a little more complicated and I haven't spent enough time looking at what my area has to offer yet.

But while I haven't worked through the fine details or logistics yet, I do know what I want. I'm not just looking for a congregation where people come together on Sunday morning, spend a few hours together and go their separate ways until next week. I want people who take what Jesus had to say seriously and who speak life and look for ways to bring their faith to life in a way that shows Jesus to others.

What I don't want is lukewarm fellowship with lukewarm people. I want a place where people are passionate about loving Jesus, loving others and loving well. 

compassion for a "waste of time"

Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethern, be pitiful, be courteous: not rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing: but contrariwise blessing; knowing that ye are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a blessing.

1 Peter 3: 8-9

To the paramedic who responded the 9-1-1 call at Sobeys Prospect Street 

just before 10 p.m. this evening, 

Let me start by saying this: I get where you were coming from.

Your assessment of the situation was technically accurate: despite his claims, the subject of the call, a gentleman well-known in the community for his affinity to mouthwash, wasn't having a seizure.

The fire department didn't need to respond with lights-and-sirens and it was fair to deem the situation a non-emergency. In the sense of the word that requires that kind of response, it certainly was not.

What wasn't fair was the way you expressed that to all of us who were waiting with the man on the sidewalk outside the store when you arrived.

When you got out of the ambulance and made your way toward us, you smirked as you greeted him and made it known to all of us standing there that that was the fifth time a 9-1-1 call had been made for him today.

You looked at us - the young couple who had made the call and the older gentleman who crouched down next to him, trying to keep him calm while we waited - and told us not to worry, that it wasn't an emergency ("It's not a seizure if he says he's having a seizure," you said) and that dealing with situations like that is a "waste of time" for paramedics in Fredericton.

Then, you looked down on him and told him to get up - you'd take him to the hospital, but you weren't going to treat it like an emergency.

The fire truck drove by and minutes later, you were gone, too.

I tried not to think too much about the situation, but as I made my way to the front of the store with my carton of eggs and bag of sliced almonds, I couldn't help but feel utterly unimpressed - and even a little bit angry - with the way you responded to the situation.

Like I said, I get where you're coming from - hospitals are crowded enough as is and the last thing we need is people there who don't need to be there - but what an incredible lack of professionalism to announce to a group of people in a very public place that a situation is "a waste of time." Maybe there's a time and a place for a candid assessment like that (although I'm not really convinced there is) but standing in front of a grocery store with people who took note of someone suffering and tried to help isn't it.

But a lack of professionalism wasn't the biggest issue to me: that honour goes to the total lack of compassion you displayed. Was the situation a medical emergency? No. But to say responding to call was a "waste of time" when it couldn't have been more clear the gentleman is dealing with several serious issues (most evident being addiction and homelessness, two incredibly complex problems which have become hot topics in our city in recent months) was such an uncaring response.

You are a public figure, someone people trust with their lives when they're in need. I understand where the thought came form but I couldn't be more disappointed with the way it was expressed. To put it simply, you had an opportunity act in love tonight and you blew it.

But not all is lost in this situation.

To the young couple and the gentleman who stayed until the ambulance arrived,

Thank you for the grace you showed - for making the call, for staying by his side until the ambulance arrived and for not indicating in any way that you agreed with the assessment of the paramedic.

Most of all, thank you for not deciding to care about another was not a "waste of time."