"Us" and "Them"

My home town was invaded this past week.  Every year, for the past 20 years, my little community has played host to one of the largest country music festivals in America.  Our population triples and every patch of ground where you can squeeze a campsite is filled to overflow with tents, campers and RVs.  Roads are cordoned off, parks are made off limits, every available downtown parking spot is taken as thousands of people hit our town for 3 days of revelry.  Up until last year, I celebrated this event with an annual tradition of my own; I stayed inside my house for the entire time.  You see, I don't particularly enjoy country music.  I don't hate it, its just not my thing.  But more than that, if I were being completely honest, the overwhelming majority of these invaders to my peaceful little burg are in many ways alien to me.  Even in the best of circumstances, I have never enjoyed crowds, being squeezed in and jostled all about.  But add in the foreign elements of big trucks, cowboy hats, and tight Wranglers and I have always felt a little like an outsider in my own hometown for those three hot August days every summer.  So I have typically sequestered myself within my home and waited for the hordes to depart

But more than that, there is an element within those campers and concert goers that I have tended to distance myself from.  It is not the vast number of music lovers who bring their families and friends, enjoying the shows and respecting each other but rather those individuals who view the weekend as an opportunity to throw off the restraints of their everyday existence and get drunk and get loud.  The shirtless partiers heading into the grocery stores for more ice and beer.  The kids piled into a truck and flying through my neighborhood late at night, music blaring.  The ladies seemingly competing to see who can push the boundaries of good taste the furthest.  My discomfort in their presence led me to isolate myself from their presence...Until last year...

My church has nearly 80 acres of land.  The campus portion of our property is beautiful.  Manicured grounds, palm trees, flowers and lush greenery, an amazing amphitheater with a shimmering pond as a backdrop. Horseshoe pits, picnic tables, walking trails throughout the woods.  But the rest of the property is mainly fields.  Like the rest of the community, our fields are used as campgrounds for those attending the concert.  The last 3 years, we have rented portable showers as a fundraiser for our ministries and set them up next to the church.  For a small 3 dollar fee, campers can grab a hot shower in the morning as they rouse from their campsites.  Last year, I reluctantly agreed to man the showers as there were no volunteers.  I got up at 5:30am and trudged off to the church, turned on the hot water, unlocked the doors and sat in my folding chair, eager to be through with the whole thing...then something happened.  As the campers began to show up, the line becoming long, I began to have conversations with them.  They began to comment on how beautiful the campus was, ask what kind if church we were. As they stood in line, we spoke about music, how far they had traveled, our little community.  As I sat in that chair, I invited each one of them to attend our Sunday outdoor service.  Many said they just might.  The next day, I made them coffee, I brought them doughnuts, and I invited them to church.  By Sunday morning, an amazing transformation was complete.  I was not manning showers, I was spending time with friends.

I was speaking on that Sunday so after I made them coffee and visited with the early risers, I left the shower line and headed over to the amphitheater.  When the worship was complete,  I stood and moved to the stage my eyes scanned the crowd ...and I saw them...Older couples, families, and young men who had stood shirtless in line smelling like beer just the day before.  By my estimation, nearly 30 people who had taken me up on my invitation were now sitting awaiting to hear what God had to say to them in that beautiful amphitheater, on those beautifully manicured grounds.

As I left church that day, I considered how often we within the church define our world as "us" and "them".  We speak about them as our ministry.  We speak about Jesus love for them.  But what happens when "they" show up at "our" church?  What happens when they interrupt the peace of our lives, threatening our peaceful circumstances? What happens when our ministry shows up at our church?

My home town was invaded this past week.  Every patch of ground where you could squeeze a campsite was filled to overflow with tents, campers and RVs.  Roads were cordoned off, parks were off limits, every available downtown parking spot was taken.  But I was not hiding within my house.  I have started a new tradition.  I was making coffee and handing out Krispy Kreme doughnuts.