viral conversation

I’m jumping into this conversation because this is exactly where we are (and someone solicited female points of view.) After 10 years in and out (more out than in) of “full-time ministry” we were shown the door at a mainline church last summer and have pretty much given up on it. I’m working full time as a biller in a medical office, my husband stays home with the kids, and we co-lead a new house church at Vineyard Central. I’m planning to go to seminary next year, not to do something new, but to do what I’m already doing more faithfully. We lost our house to the bank because we couldn’t find a buyer for it. It sat and sat up in Grand Rapids while we followed our dreams and God’s leading to Cincinnati almost 3 years ago. Did our bankruptcy wean us from our possession-sickness? Partially, but maybe it was more the realization that houses, cars, clothes, furniture - are nothing compared with the wealth found in serving and working for the kingdom in intimate relationship with likeminded brothers and sisters.

I agree with Kevin that the community (Vineyard Central) is key to doing this for us. Never before has our work-life-mission (there’s got to be a good German compound noun for that!) felt sustainable. That has changed. Many of us at VC and in our house church run on fumes at least part of the time, but we are trying and learning to meet each others needs – for encouragement, for childcare, for recreation, for food and rent and gas and belonging. Sarah Klinefelter and I were talking last Sunday about that analogy of running on fumes. You can keep a close eye on your reserve tank, and ration out your energy so you have enough to spread between work, kids, church – you can plan down to the last ½ gallon. But you never know when God is going to fill that tank again – or like the widow’s flour and oil – make it last beyond all probability.

This place, these people – it feels like somewhere I can live and grow for the rest of my life, using and developing the skills and gifts God has given me. We don’t agonize about whether our teaching will offend a big tither, or power broker and we are free to take on an encouragement role or an unpopular prophetic role, as God leads. We’ve not arrived, it’s not perfect, or complete, but I get the sense that those around me are committed to being here, with each other, no matter what, and that however we grow in our knowledge, in our theology, in our view of how God works in the world, there will always be a place for us. Whatever our family squabbles are, whether we’re fun to be around, whether worship is exciting and moving or not, we’re all in this for the long haul. We’re not alone, and we’re not disposable– and that isn’t something we felt as paid church staff.

My first Sunday at VC was the week Chad Canipe passed away. Now our house church meets at Renee and the boys’ house. March was hard, but the sense that God’s work goes on and we are blessed to be part of it was strong.

If we are supported by our community through random monetary gifts, we count it joy. If we can make enough to live and eat and play and love, we count it joy. If we get to give away things we have that others need, we count it joy. If we get to make a lonely person feel like they have a family, we count it joy. There is nothing more we could want.