I think it sounds a bit like something a Dalek might say.
I recently spoke about the welcome I receive at a community which I try to get to each weekend. They are the ones that greet you by name, shake your hand – or give you a hug if that’s your thing. They’ll be willing to listen to your concerns, to check upon you if you aren’t feeling good – even to call. But that could be any community group, even church.
What makes this group different is that they externalise.
A ministerial colleague, Trey Hall, once said in training I received in Birmingham, that when we say something it might be the first time we actually hear it. I am not listing what’s required when we go for messages or shopping, I am talking about those things that rattle around our brain, especially at 4am. Those thoughts that might cause us to become anxious, fret, or even panic.
When we speak them out aloud, we can properly discern what we are trying to say. We might be able to rationalise those thoughts, those words, and decide that it doesn’t quite make sense anymore, or that, on balance, we might have something quite profound.
What this group does, however, is to speak openly, vulnerably,
about what makes them tick, or possibly not tick.
They might discuss how they are struggling to find God, or their higher power; or it might be that they find that life really sucks at the moment, and they explain what they are going through in sometimes graphic detail.
“What is said in the room, stays in the room” is the adage they say.
I wonder whether if churches could be more open, more vulnerable, more transparent about life’s issues, we might all grow. We allow testimonies to be spoken about how our life has been changed for the better, but not how they have struggled, bounced along the floor or even crashed. Are we seeking a perfect world, one that is cosmetically crafted so to look idyllic – or one that is real?
I love the dialogue
I think some church communities are too large to share. I recently shared a very personal story during a service with a congregation of seven, most of whom I knew well. Taking the same service later that morning with a larger congregation, that story didn’t seem appropriate, although I shared other experiences because that was the way the conversation went.
Often we may not know of the impact of that story.
Furthermore, to externalise may well help us, the speaker, to understand how we are feeling, what lies beneath the surface.