of his church. The people enjoyed the coffee and, for them, it also symbolized and even fostered relationship. For Paul, the smell of coffee would always be linked with friendship and personal connection. He wondered if the kids of his church would grow up making the same association. He hoped so.
Paul stepped up to his designated music stand to arrange the notes for his message—a message he spent ten to fifteen hours preparing. He looked out at the empty chairs and thought of the people who would soon fill them and hoped they would enjoy the very sensory experience of it all. Paul closed his eyes and imagined the sounds of people settling in their seats after worshipping in song, the smell of coffee from the cups that found their ways under the seats, and the sight of the people themselves, coming together intentionally as a faith community even when others were out pursuing interests that were probably much more entertaining. The experience never failed to give him an adrenalin rush.
With all of its weaknesses and quirks, Paul loved this church.
4
If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt,as far as possible, all things.
René Descartes
“Why do we keep meeting here? I always feel like I’m on the set of an old Cheers rerun.”
“It’s because there’s an important community that comes here—one we ought to be connecting with.”
“They don’t look much like the people in our church.”
“That’s just the problem.”
Paul and Gracie met every week at a pub in the local historic downtown area. The building that housed the pub was formerly a warehouse as were the neighboring structures that lined that particular street. The brick walls and heavy roof beams had been repaired and restored but left exposed, giving the pub a connection with the city’s early history. The chairs and tables were all mismatched antiques, sometimes wobbly but always offering space for long lunches and conversations. In the center of the long, rectangular structure was an ornate oak bar that stretched out over 20 feet, with a carved back section that held bottles and taps that reached from floor to ceiling. While the pub was more of a restaurant than just a bar, the drinking area provided the hub from which the rest of the seating area emanated.
The old wood smells and feeling of an earlier era filled Paul with a sense of community and human connection. There was a kind of social charm to the place that drew Paul back week after week.
Gracie Kline was in her mid-thirties and a key leader at Music City Community Church. She had come to faith in Christ while in college and soon joined with a large campus ministry. Over time she saw a number of friends become followers of Jesus through that ministry. After college she became a stockbroker and now worked for a large business consulting firm. Even with her demanding schedule, Gracie was a committed and active member of Music City. Because she was single she seemed to have more flexible time than many other people in the church. Gracie was part of Paul’s leadership team and she was typically a great contributor, even though she and Paul often disagreed. Gracie seemed uncomfortable with Paul’s frequent willingness to question not only the way the church operated but also the so-called rightness of some theological positions. Yet he appreciated her ability to function in a competitive business environment and her persistent objectivity.
“Why is that a problem?” Gracie made a face that revealed her suspicions about the quality of the menu items.
“Look at the population of our church. We end up looking like one another. Most of us are white, fairly well-educated, and able to make a living in this part of the country—which takes a fair amount of money. Yet our community is much more diverse than we are.” Paul had expressed this before. It was not a new complaint.
Gracie looked around the pub—an old brick and wood warehouse that had been reclaimed and transformed as the city attempted some form of redevelopment. “OK, so the people who come here are multi-generational, ethnically mixed, and immersed in a culture that tends to be foreign to us. What are we supposed to do about that? Should we implement some sort of affirmative action program? Or maybe we should impose racial and age quotas on membership?” Gracie was becoming irritated by Paul’s frequent revisiting of this subject.
“No, I’m not saying that at all. You’re right—it would be artificial to start forcing diversity to happen in a church. And maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with age or ethnicity, but with people in general. It’s just that we seem very unconcerned about the people outside of us.”
“I don’t think it’s lack of concern that’s the issue.” Gracie moved her menu aside. “I just think people don’t know how to get there from here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look. What does the average Christian in the church think about evangelism?”
Paul thought for a moment. “Well, they’re probably for it, as long as somebody else does it. My experience is that most people see evangelism as a kind of spiritual specialty.”
“Right. But even if they thought it was something they should do, how would they go about doing it? You’ve spoken a lot at church about the change in our culture—from modern to postmodern and all that stuff. If you read about these changes as much as you do, and yet you don’t really know how to proceed, then how do you expect the average member of the church to reach out?” Gracie sat back, victorious in making her point.
As Paul sat thinking about what she had said, Dean Mori entered the pub. A recent college graduate, Dean was ten years younger than Gracie and almost twenty years younger than Paul. He was third-generation Japanese-American. Dean was raised in a conservative evangelical church and his college experiences at the state university had served to not only deepen his faith but also to open him up to the complexities of culture, faith, and church life. He was on Paul’s staff and served as the youth pastor and associate to Paul. He was also attending classes at a local theological seminary, which gave him continuous material for controversial conversations.
“Hi guys. Sorry I’m late.” Dean sat down and looked at his friends. “Did I miss something important? You look pretty intense.”
Gracie filled him in on the discussion, trying to downplay Paul’s social commentary and focus more on his question regarding evangelism. Dean looked at Paul. “I’m interested in your answer to Gracie’s question. I’ve been thinking about this quite a bit lately.”
Trying to buy a little time in order to frame a possible answer, Paul pressed him. “So what are you thinking about?”
Dean leaned in closer. “Well, I don’t mean this to be a criticism, so don’t take this personally, OK?” Paul knew this meant it would be personal.
Dean continued. “Anyway, you know how you are always saying that our church is supposed to be ‘a people for God, for the sake of the world’? Well, I’ve been thinking that the way we operate as a church doesn’t really support that.”
“What do you mean?” Paul started to feel slightly queasy, taking this quite personally. He had been thinking the same thoughts; it just sounded threatening to hear someone else verbalize them.
“Don’t get me wrong. I think the intent is right on. But how are we really helping people to be that kind of community?”
Gracie jumped in. “Right. We do a lot of good things. Our gatherings on Sundays might need some
