|
 |
|
|
|
Driver not responsible for smashing gate into the hereafter.
That's what I would like to respond to the sign posted on the exit gate at my apartment. Since I was in middle school, I've avoided those sliding gates like the plague. But much like a plague, one can't avoid the inevitable. Living in a big city requires one to have a certain sense of security and someone somewhere believes that these gates offer that to the residents within.
Rumor has it that if something as small as a cat's tail gets stuck in one of these, it will immediately open back up so as to prevent injury to small children, idiot teenagers, and our feline friends. Of course, it takes a few accidents to convince gate makers and those that insure them that this safety feature need be installed. I count myself proud as a statistic in this risk assessment and I bear the scar that proves my stupidity.
I am prone to accidents - the kind where if one logically thinks a situation through, one might deductively reason oneself out of harm's way. I will deductively reason myself in the direct path of a freight train all the while thinking that this is the safest place to be. Sometime during the sixth grade, I was playing around the gate of my best friend's apartment complex. Mistake #1. Do not allow children to "play" around large mechanized gates. As we played, I ended up outside of the complex and decided to wait until the next driver would allow me back in. While waiting, I leaned against the gate trying to look "cool" and laid-back. Mistake #2. Never try to look cool. You either are cool or you are not. Trying to look relaxed while waiting by a mechanized gate is the surest way to get pulled into it. The result of course is evidenced by the scar on my forehead as my arm and face got stuck between a moving gate and a stabilization post. One of California's finest plastic surgeons stitched me up and now many years later, that scar is almost invisible. I can't move my forehead muscles on the left side of my face and occasionally when plucking my eyebrows I feel it as though the hair is attached to the back of my head.
Scars are interesting - they tell stories, give evidence of where we've been, or who might have passed through our lives. One friend bears the scar of an accident with firecrackers as young boys. Another has the cigarette burns of an abusive father. And yet another the ever-so-slight crookedness of a scoliosis misdiagnosis. Compared to others, my scar is only a mere annoyance at times, not debilitating in any way, but it tells a part of my story.
Recently I celebrated Community Church's ten year birthday and we celebrated in true Comchurch style, with stories, communion, and music. When it was my turn to share, I stood up and gazed around the room seeing people I'd known for many years. Flashbacks of stupid things I said, or rude things I'd done were flying through my head in the ten seconds or so that I stared out at all of them.
I see the young man who nearly broke my heart and then in turn had two songs written about him and sung in public, pretty much lampooning his reputation.
I see the couple who I repeatedly paid late rent to the year I lived in their rental house.
I see the pastor to whom I wrote a hot check.
I see the couple that I gossiped about repeatedly hoping that they would leave the church.
The old roommate who suffered through a year of my depression and to whom I never offered thanks.
These people had every reason to reject me and turn their backs on me. The embarrassment of all my past mistakes should have compelled me to leave Community Church and hide in one of the 5000 member churches in the area. Yet here I was on a Saturday night after ten years standing in front of all of them thinking how much I love them, and furthermore knowing how much they love me.
I heard a speaker share the concepts of shalom - peace - and broken shalom. He teaches his children these two concepts so they understand the redemption of Christ, how He takes that which is broken and puts it back together again. Have you ever glued a broken piece of pottery back together? No matter how much a perfectionist you are, there will always be a mark - however faint it may be - that proves it was once broken.
I looked out on the faces of Community Church and I saw the scars, the marks from our brokenness but rather than see something ugly and deformed, I saw the evidence of God's restoring love and forgiveness. He forgives but I don't believe we are ever meant to forget. We are meant to see the scars with thanks. Broken shalom restored.
Is this what the church is meant to look like? So often we pretend to have it all together - we all love each other and everything is hunky dory. We're scared to admit that maybe we don't like everyone in our community. Henry Nouwen said "Community is living with the people that no one wants to live with." My friend Ben said that being in community with someone doesn't mean having to be their best friend, you might not even like them. Maybe a better picture of what we look like is something broken and scarred, but glued back together again. Is this what Paul meant by "bearing on his body the marks of the Lord?"
My parents rushed to my side at the apartment complex as I lay bleeding in the parking lot waiting for the ambulance to come. Dad didn't want mom to see how gruesome I looked so he made her stay back. Of course, all I could worry about was getting blood on my best friend's sweater. It was a long night in the ER as they waited for the doctor to come stitch me up. I don't remember much, but I do remember the feel of my daddy's hand as he never let go all night long. To this day, I still get misty-eyed thinking of that night and everyday when I see the scar, or feel it as I turn one eyebrow into two, I remember my dad who wouldn't leave my side or stop holding my hand.
|
Great thoughts Nicole, thanks. It's interesting that Christ's body post-resurrection were still filled with his scars. His skin wasn't smooth and perfect and glowing with a golden aura around it like in the flannelgraph. It was rugged, and worn and scarred. Seems like beauty as defined by Christ might look a lot less like the flawless faces on Cosmo and a lot more like the earthy, rugged, scar-filled faces of everyday people. Maybe that's what incarnation is all about: beauty in the ordinary?
Very Interesting ...
Thank you for this piece. Following Aaron's comment, it is an exposition of the post resurrection, Kingdom among us, life we live. A new creation, flesh and blood, from the pieces of the old. Of course, we remember the kingdom is upon us, but not yet in its fullness - so next week or next month, there may be another dispute or falling out, just as during my last night shift at work (last night) I did not share the full beneficence and joy of a kingdom worker among my colleagues. thank you.
Great story, Nicole. I remember that opening comment. Weren't we helping Amanda Martin move? I often reflect on my idiot past and think, "How great is the God that can redeem from such a wretched state!" Praise be to Him who is that great and mighty and gracious.
Nicole,
Thanks for loving me when I didn't know I had scars. Thanks for being patient with the learning curve I required to understand community. Thanks for letting me think I had everything figured out for a bit and then being there when I felt like everything was falling apart. Thanks for living in a way that makes me know that Christ is enough, but being real enough to show your discontent with the status quo.
Love you, Lins
Good stuff! Thanks for helping community happen.
|
|
|
|
(3)
Great thoughts Nicole, thanks. It's interesting that Christ's body post-resurrection were still filled with his scars. His skin wasn't smooth and perfect and glowing with a golden aura around it like in the flannelgraph. It was rugged, and worn and scarred. Seems like beauty as defined by Christ might look a lot less like the flawless faces on Cosmo and a lot more like the earthy, rugged, scar-filled faces of everyday people. Maybe that's what incarnation is all about: beauty in the ordinary? Posted by Aaron | Posted at 01/29/2009 1:25 PM
Very Interesting ... Posted by Elizabeth | Posted at 01/29/2009 2:30 PM
Thank you for this piece. Following Aaron's comment, it is an exposition of the post resurrection, Kingdom among us, life we live. A new creation, flesh and blood, from the pieces of the old. Of course, we remember the kingdom is upon us, but not yet in its fullness - so next week or next month, there may be another dispute or falling out, just as during my last night shift at work (last night) I did not share the full beneficence and joy of a kingdom worker among my colleagues. thank you. Posted by Juniper | Posted at 01/29/2009 4:50 PM
Great story, Nicole. I remember that opening comment. Weren't we helping Amanda Martin move? I often reflect on my idiot past and think, "How great is the God that can redeem from such a wretched state!" Praise be to Him who is that great and mighty and gracious. Posted by Ryan Riley | Posted at 01/29/2009 7:01 PM
Nicole,
Thanks for loving me when I didn't know I had scars. Thanks for being patient with the learning curve I required to understand community. Thanks for letting me think I had everything figured out for a bit and then being there when I felt like everything was falling apart. Thanks for living in a way that makes me know that Christ is enough, but being real enough to show your discontent with the status quo.
Love you, Lins
Posted by Lindsay L | Posted at 01/31/2009 8:02 PMGood stuff! Thanks for helping community happen. Posted by scot | Posted at 02/05/2009 11:40 AM