AS THE FICKLE WINTER seems unable (or unwilling!) to make up its mind about the weather, I am genuinely warmed on this cold February morning by several instances of healthy “body life” within our church family here at Fellowship Bible Church. In fact, I am so moved by these instances that I am still thinking about them several days after the fact. I hope by the mere exercise of spelling them out in this newsletter that you too will be warmed regardless of winter’s general inhospitality.
On the day after the ice storm, while “professional minister” I was preoccupied with the temperature in my own living room several of our people were preheating their vehicles to go and check on the situation of others in the body. No prodding. No cajoling. No applause-seeking. They just quietly navigated the tree-strewn streets across town, pulled out some tools, spread some salt, fired up once or twice a chain saw and became my teachers. My guess is that these were not merely the first strong acts of quiet fellowship; but were midpoints in a long string of ministry.
That would have been enough to thaw out a dozen Februarys, but I was soon amazed at the number of FBCers who showed up to help clear the Blackwells’ property from heavy tree loss. That too would have been enough to remind me that love given in Christ’s name has long been part of the very fabric of FBC (long before I was called!), but I was floored at the willingness for TJ to preach last Sunday with literally no warning as I weakly waved the white flag of surrender to all of my microscopic “killjoys” having a party at my expense. That too would have been enough to melt my cynicism about the spiritual state of the modern church, but I realize that these examples of authentic community all happened in less than two weeks’ time. If an ice storm can bring out this kind of warmth, I wonder what spiritual crop a gentle spring might conjure.
On the day after the ice storm, while “professional minister” I was preoccupied with the temperature in my own living room several of our people were preheating their vehicles to go and check on the situation of others in the body. No prodding. No cajoling. No applause-seeking. They just quietly navigated the tree-strewn streets across town, pulled out some tools, spread some salt, fired up once or twice a chain saw and became my teachers. My guess is that these were not merely the first strong acts of quiet fellowship; but were midpoints in a long string of ministry.
That would have been enough to thaw out a dozen Februarys, but I was soon amazed at the number of FBCers who showed up to help clear the Blackwells’ property from heavy tree loss. That too would have been enough to remind me that love given in Christ’s name has long been part of the very fabric of FBC (long before I was called!), but I was floored at the willingness for TJ to preach last Sunday with literally no warning as I weakly waved the white flag of surrender to all of my microscopic “killjoys” having a party at my expense. That too would have been enough to melt my cynicism about the spiritual state of the modern church, but I realize that these examples of authentic community all happened in less than two weeks’ time. If an ice storm can bring out this kind of warmth, I wonder what spiritual crop a gentle spring might conjure.
Kevin Rees, February 2009
No comments:
Post a Comment