The Outsider

Not long ago, on a Sunday morning, I decided to visit a church. I sauntered into the bustling sanctuary a little late, found an empty seat near the rear escape hatch, and plopped down. The music part of the service was well underway as the enthusiastic worship musicians bobbed up and down and the singers swayed side-to-side gazing into the heavens. The musical gears turned like a well-oiled motor. The lighting was subdued but the glow from the stage lights was enough for me to observe some of the faces in the audience sitting around me. What they lacked in participation and engagement was made up by their look of approval and contentment with the proceedings.

“What in the world am I doing here?” I wondered to myself.

I realize I must have been wearing my feelings of discomfort on my face because as I would catch others looking back in my direction they seemed to be wondering the very same thing. Feeling a bit insecure, I thought at first that I must have chosen the wrong attire for the occasion. So I doubled-checked my outfit to make sure.

After a few minutes of this, I found myself thinking how odd it was that I would be perceived as an “outsider” in a house of worship. I’ve been a follower of Jesus for nearly forty years and spent the majority of those years leading worship, being a pastor, and doling out exactly what I was experiencing in that moment. And for a brief instant I felt bad about not wanting to join in and be a part of it again.

As the “meet-and-greet” time was announced everybody stood up, except for me, and a brave and determined looking man walked up to me with his hand stretched out. As I shook his hand he took on a strange “I’ve-got-me-a-live-one” attitude. As he probed me, he spoke unusually fast and purposeful—almost as if he wanted to get me to the sinner’s prayer within the allotted two-minute “meet-and-greet” time. It was a very surreal moment for someone like me who had spent so many years perpetuating the very same atmosphere at church. Now, as an outsider, all I wanted was to get out of there.

I stayed put only because I began to see that moment as a God ordained eye-opener. For a few minutes I was able to feel the alienation that being objectified brings. I began to encounter a bizarre but wonderful connection to the stranger who happens to walk into a place of worship looking for God, only to be considered an opportunity for exercising atrophied evangelism skills.

Within that strange encounter I suddenly felt pretty good about being outside of what was going on. The journey that God has had me on over the past several years has reconstructed the way I look at people both inside and outside the Church. The ongoing conversations I’ve been having with God concerning the way our goal-oriented Christianity is managed has resulted in my finding more comfort outside the walls of performance and ministry objectives.

What I look for now is to have fellowship with those who desire to be salt in the world churning around us—all the while unafraid to look like an outsider.