I'll Take Some Social Justice and a Frappuchino, Please

A few weeks ago I met up with my supervisor from Mission Waco and a good friend. Dining in a restaurant in downtown Raleigh during biker week, we caught up on life and I told stories of the time I got a bunch of my fellow interns to seek out Bush's ranch in Crawford and how much my time as an intern in Waco changed my life.

Shortly after, we were joined by some friends of Kathy (my former supervisor) and Rebecca (other friend from NC) and conversation shifted to church. We talked about Church Under the Bridge in Waco, about more traditional churches, and about struggling churches.

Shortly after, I penned a Facebook status and mentioned that we talked about what it meant to be church. As much as that statement was true,  something about the way I worded it seemed somewhat cliche. Aren't people always talking about what it means to be church? Aren't thoughts and ideas about community and relationships discussed over cups of $4 lattes on a regular basis? Isn't that the millennial thing to do?

What new idea did I have to bring to the conversation?

My story. My perspective. The things God is teaching me.

I have no groundbreaking theological insight about the church, I just know what I've experienced. When I think about Mission Waco, I think about experiencing church.

I think about playing Scrabble with my brothers and sisters living in a shelter and laughing out loud as a resident attempted to persuade the group that "glover" was a word, defining it as "one who gloves."  I think about when I discovered those friends hanging out in the library one summer afternoon and the library not kicking them out "because they were loitering." I think of these people and I remember their faces, and remember our friendship when I see a picture, and feel the love Paul talks about in Philippians 1:3 when he says he thanks God every time he thinks of the church at Philippi.... because I thank God for the church in Waco.

I remember partaking in a poverty simulation, my first weekend in the Texas sun, and finally going back to the intern house and thinking, "The walls are so white." I had spent the weekend living and sleeping outside and when I finally got back to the intern house, I marveled at the color of the walls. Something so simple seemed so luxurious.

I remember the passion and clear God-given gift that summer was and I think of the nine years since then.

I think about my passion for biblical social justice, and my tendency for pride. Tendency for having misplaced pride in not desiring lofty expenses or a large house; not throwing money into each new technology that comes around and patting myself on the back because I appreciate "living simply". I think about the fact that I live in a gated apartment community and how it bothered me, and yet it doesn't bother me to hit that Starbucks drive-thru 4 times a week.

Living simply means so much more than cutting back on spending. Sometimes I wonder if I even know what it means anymore.

I want to get back to the fierce conviction for biblical social justice I had throughout my years in divinity school.... before I found out social justice is a catch phrase often thrown around, back when all it meant to me was a strong calling on my life.

I want to re-experience how biblical social justice, relationships, living simply, and the command to care for others in Matthew 25 are all a part of being church.

I'd appreciate prayers as I continue to learn what this looks like for my life.
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