On Biblical Community
Lately, I've been thinking about tattooing my forehead.
Here's my reasoning: I think, if we all walked around with our needs tattooed on our foreheads, we'd be much more apt to reach out to one another. Think about it. Downstairs in fellowship after church, you greet the acquaintance you chat with every Sunday. Instead of the standard, "Fine, thanks," you can see that what she needs is $50 to pay rent. Or babysitting so she can go on a date with her husband. Or even just a nap. We could, in a very straightforward manner, find needs we were able to meet and fill them.
Unfortunately, not too many of us would sign on to the tattoo idea. So what is the answer? I have a few ideas. First, prayerfully looking for areas to help. My mother is amazing in this area. In the last week, she's given Loren and I a date night, taken Abby shopping to get her out of the house and give me a break, cleaned out my fridge in the midst of my bouts with nausea. Amazing. Knowing exactly what I need without me saying a word.
Secondly, we need to be in Biblical community. Frankly, if we never get beyond the superficial questions and answers that seem to fill our conversations, we will never feel safe enough with one another to have the transparency necessary to not only ask for help, but know when to offer it as well. Our family has met once a week with the same group of people for about six months now. In that time, we've studied Scripture, shared our struggles with sin, laughed and cried about difficulties in marriage and parenting, and fostered friendships that I pray will last long after our group decides to go our separate ways.
Which is why today had me thinking a lot about the book of Acts. A dear, amazing brother in Christ from our group showed up with bag after bag of groceries for us. As far as I know, his family had no idea that a few days ago my grocery trip was rapidly aborted as I rushed home, throwing up, and lay crying on the couch, unable to even get the few groceries I'd managed to buy upstairs due to the migraine I've been fighting for weeks now. Yet here he stood on my doorstep, blessing me beyond words.
Biblical community. It's what we are called to, far beyond simply sitting in a pew on Sunday mornings. It is where we find the relationships that sustain us in the valleys, rejoice with us in the victories, and pray for us whether we think we need it or not. Which, I concede, makes much more sense than tattoos.
Here's my reasoning: I think, if we all walked around with our needs tattooed on our foreheads, we'd be much more apt to reach out to one another. Think about it. Downstairs in fellowship after church, you greet the acquaintance you chat with every Sunday. Instead of the standard, "Fine, thanks," you can see that what she needs is $50 to pay rent. Or babysitting so she can go on a date with her husband. Or even just a nap. We could, in a very straightforward manner, find needs we were able to meet and fill them.
Unfortunately, not too many of us would sign on to the tattoo idea. So what is the answer? I have a few ideas. First, prayerfully looking for areas to help. My mother is amazing in this area. In the last week, she's given Loren and I a date night, taken Abby shopping to get her out of the house and give me a break, cleaned out my fridge in the midst of my bouts with nausea. Amazing. Knowing exactly what I need without me saying a word.
Secondly, we need to be in Biblical community. Frankly, if we never get beyond the superficial questions and answers that seem to fill our conversations, we will never feel safe enough with one another to have the transparency necessary to not only ask for help, but know when to offer it as well. Our family has met once a week with the same group of people for about six months now. In that time, we've studied Scripture, shared our struggles with sin, laughed and cried about difficulties in marriage and parenting, and fostered friendships that I pray will last long after our group decides to go our separate ways.
Which is why today had me thinking a lot about the book of Acts. A dear, amazing brother in Christ from our group showed up with bag after bag of groceries for us. As far as I know, his family had no idea that a few days ago my grocery trip was rapidly aborted as I rushed home, throwing up, and lay crying on the couch, unable to even get the few groceries I'd managed to buy upstairs due to the migraine I've been fighting for weeks now. Yet here he stood on my doorstep, blessing me beyond words.
Biblical community. It's what we are called to, far beyond simply sitting in a pew on Sunday mornings. It is where we find the relationships that sustain us in the valleys, rejoice with us in the victories, and pray for us whether we think we need it or not. Which, I concede, makes much more sense than tattoos.
posted by The Bakers at 1:41 PM
1 Comments:
I like this idea, except that my needs change. I vote we use henna. That way people will pick something thoughtful (it'll be there for 6 weeks), but it leaves some room to adapt to changing circumstances.
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