Chapter 49 It's Really Not Up for Debate Part 2

I was trying to snap myself out of it on the way home, so I flipped on the radio (my less expensive Ipod of choice) and the Darkness on the Edge of Town was just ending. In case you didn’t know this, the end of that classic Boss tune sounds exactly like the beginning. So, if you're anything like me and you grew up on radio, there was always an anticipation with songs like these.

Maybe, just maybe, on a good day, the song was just getting started. But then, on the not so good days, it wasn’t.

It was the end.

So, getting a brief taste of this Boss song and the end of it, I knew I needed to hear it all. I searched deep within that CD changer and I found it, and I listened to it from the beginning, in all of its glorious entirety, with Chloe peering out the now closed windows at passing clouds and trees beneath them.

Well, if she wants to see me,
You can tell her that I'm easily found,
Tell her there's a spot out 'neath Abram's Bridge,
And tell her, there's a darkness on the edge of town.

Truth be told, that’s what happening with us in this story, as these chapters draw to a close. If anything has developed in us, I hope it’s that we've learned how to belt it out like the Boss with our gravelly voices: hey, if anyone wants to see us, you can tell ‘em that we’re easily found!

Where? Right here in the margins. Find us loving and serving with open arms and an easy grace in the darkness on the edge of town.

And yes, the end of this wildly meandering novel looks and sounds very much like the beginning, where, as you may recall, I climbed up and over the crest of that hill and I found their number was simply too large to count. Like before, what I had just witnessed was an amazing picture of unity and array. They had organized, seemingly with a communal destination in mind. They rode together, side by side as apparent followers by no other name.

Where were these men and women riding to on this beautiful Saturday morning and why was their destination not mine, again? I really don’t know for sure, but what matters most is where I take them in my imagination because you and I, this Church we are, well, we need a model. And unless I’m missing it, we’ve been sorely lacking in the church model department for too many years.

Of course, we’ve already imagined a modern day Rider. But here we are again, needing a steady reminder of who we are as His followers, whether two by two or in large processions. Not just any reminder, but one that will spring to life in the reality of our waking moments. I don’t know about you, but I can barely go a day without the thundering sound and imposing sight of Harley riders finding their way into my personal space.

So, let’s analyze this. We need a collective passion for one thing that will call us together on beautiful mornings -- you know, to congregate. This one thing is simple, and in reality, it’s not a thing at all. He is a person, and from what I’ve learned of this journey, it seems like, lately, He’s all we have in common anymore.

His name is Jesus.

Putting our differences to rest, we need to follow him en masse and embark at once upon a journey, together, with a destination of great consequence. Yet, at the same time, we need to acknowledge that we’re actually excited about the destination because of the journey itself. One of comradery and like-mindedness; one where I believe God indelibly leaves his very fingerprints upon us, if I can be so bold to presume such a thing.

With our hair dancing with wild gusts of wind, we’ll put our arms out like we’re flying and it will be very beautiful. The sun will shine upon us and we’ll resemble our Father, wherein fate has blessed us.

The destination? Perhaps it won’t always be the edge of town. Maybe it'll be smack dab in the middle. Regardless, wherever it is, there will likely be a darkness there, where the last and the least can easily be found.

You know your own town. Where is the edge? Yes, it is that simple and yes, the Word (who is the truth) backs it up. Trust me.

And it can be confusing, no doubt, because churches are everywhere, competing like marching bands and cheerleaders in their popularity contest, beckoning us to stake a claim in their congregation. So sometimes we'll have to ride past the car washes, with signs and marquees everywhere, each with some witty phrase, screaming out from the shoulder of the road “Come into our building! Please, pretty please!” Extroverts greeting us and begging us to choose them over the next one. But we’ll smile and wave at what we once called church as if to say we believe in your passion, but if all you want is for us to come in and get our souls washed for heaven, to raise money for this or that, well, we can’t stop right now.

We'll keep riding because in the darkness on the edge of town we know, we just know that we’ll get a taste of it, that special “it”, when we've reached the end of the tire tracks, where Jesus actually parks his ride and we'll realize we're at the beginning!

And that we want it all.

There’s a reason we've imagined the Bride throwing off her veil. It was because she wanted to be seen full in the face, and she wanted to let her hair down so she could freely celebrate the love of her Groom and reveal just how contagious that love really is.

We are that Bride, and our journey and the destination that follows is a celebration. We won’t shush and shoo away the uninvited. We won’t hide behind the bridal table during the reception -- no, we’ll get up and reveal the full length of our beauty and we'll kick off our shoes, open the doors to the hall and bring out our tables of food and our wine. We’ll beckon the outsiders to come -- the hungry, the hopeless and the homeless to eat from the bounty. We’ll dance with the tattered in the streets, the crisp white shoulders of our bridal gown smudged with grime because the tears of the lonely and the downtrodden have been shed during an embrace.

We won’t exist merely to draw others into some building. Instead, we’ll love deep and true so that everyone will be drawn to the fullness and the magnificence of our marriage to the Groom.

And yes, it's true. We’re all broken, so very broken. But we know deep inside our messiness that One has made us whole. Just like my Saturday morning with Chloe, the simple addition of a special something turns us into an altogether perfect and pure Church.

It’s Him, and He’s calling us to an adventure.

We won’t accomplish much of anything in our sitting down and in the staking of our territorial borders. We’ll finally get, once and for all, that this Church we are is a living breathing thing, one of motion and kinesis. We'll actually find our beauty in our forward momentum, our movement together, like a clumsy flock of birds that floats through the air with grace, but only after we’ve truly taken flight.

And so, while this is indeed the end of this volume, let's search deep inside and begin again and live this open air concept of church in all of its glorious entirety. Will you join the procession of the passionate, and if so, how far away will the collective rumble of your resolve be felt? Will you find other like-minded congregants who join you, those who are given wide berth and those who find power inherent in the mere mass of their number?

Come and join the sanctuary of the ones who have been saved from the depths of the too far gone, where founding members congregate not as conquering heroes on white horses of privilege but as unassuming brothers and sisters who ride low to the ground. Come and know enough of the true Rider to be forever at odds with the ones who are more prepared than they are willing. Leave behind pews of indifference and altars of apathy. Bid farewell to men and women with agendas who revel with clean hands and distant hearts behind closed doors.

In my way of thinking, it’s really not up for debate.

Come and lean with humility into dusty street corners and join in worship as the alleys echo with rapping evangelists of song. Come watch as all cultures, color and creed rise up and multiply while their pulpits are filled by merely the rescued and the redeemed!

That, my friends, is a new kind of church.



The End


Stay tuned for So I Go Now ~ Volume III!

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If you've stopped by for the first time, or if you've been along for the ride quite a while, please drop me a note -- I'd love to hear from you! If you're shy about leaving comments, that's fine too! You can e-mail me at soigonow@gmail.com

A HUGE thanks to all of you for your ever steady encouragement throughout these chapters.

Peace and blessings ~ Jeff