21 :: Hope Community Church

Today I worshiped at Hope Community Church in South Charlotte. This is right around the corner from where I used to live, so it is in an area that I know well and don't visit often. It proved to be a really nice visit and a change from the church visits that I have experienced recently. Additionally, this is my twentieth church visit and I was pensive on the 1/5th mark.

I'm really grateful for this experience. I am learning a great deal and I am really very happy with how it's going so far. I am also really enjoying this time of life.

I learned about Hope Community Church because one of the three Hope Community Church locations is next to Freedom House in South End. I took note of this after I saw a second group of people milling about on Griffith Street and did some research. I chose to visit the Hope Community Church location off of Rae Road. I remember when this church building was originally built about a decade ago. It was a Moravian Church. That congregation, Peace Church, has moved out to Ardrey Kell, an area much farther down in South Charlotte.

As always, the physical structure of the church is the first thing to notice. In terms of appearance, this is a very traditional church. Beautiful and simple, perhaps even on the edge of austere. I liked it. And on such a beautiful day, the structure felt comforting right from the beginning.

I had a little girl take my temperature (I passed the test!) and told her she was doing "Such a good job!" She beamed in response to the praise. Then I proceeded into the sanctuary. Consistent with the exterior, the inside was an attractive place in its own right. The people streamed in slowly. Then the band started.

The band performed well, and the crowd sang along. I recalled my experience at Christ Covenant, both in terms of the music, the people, the feel. That makes sense, as Hope Community Church is also a PCA congregation. Recently, I have been visiting mostly non-denominational churches that worship in a slightly more... ecstatic format. This was a change, a return to my spiritual roots in more ways than one. No one putting their hands in the air, no clapping, no jamming out by the band. A good bit more subdued.

Here's some of the music by the capable band. Modern Christian music:

The congregation then went through a period of the service where they communally read the definitions of words that figured into the themes for the sermon - justification, adoption and sanctification. These words were from the Westminster Catechism, a seventeenth-century document crafted to bring the Church of England and the Church of Scotland into greater union with each other.

Now I knew I was in a different setting. The familiarity of this responsive reading by the whole church was really nice. The themes that it dealt with were also thought-provoking. The church was proving to engage my mind a bit more than my heart and my soul. It was a familiar and new feeling, all at once. Note the words "pardoneth" and "accepteth" on Question 33, below.

Quick tangent... There is something called "High Church." In format and style, High Church is the most traditional extant Protestant form of worship. It is also the format that I grew up in and continued to participate in until this spiritual pivot started. Pastors in robes, composed music from a hymnal, a high degree of formality in the responsive reading and method of delivering communion are attributes of High Church. Until more recently, High Church used older forms of English in the liturgy.

Hope Community's church service is not High Church, but it evoked it for me. One man who spoke at the beginning of the service mentioned that he was an Elder. "Elders" are a very High Church, Presbyterian thing.

Then we moved to the sermon part of the service. A young guy named Tripp gave the sermon (I could not find Tripp on the Hope Community Church website, he may be very new). It was based on the first chapter of the Epistle of James. Of note, the author of the Epistle of James is described by many theologians as Jesus's younger brother. There's debate on that question, so if you're interested and want to learn more, hit the link in the prior sentence.

The sermon surfaced some themes about pain and suffering and it spoke to me in a deep way. 

Here's Tripp giving today's sermon:

The sermon produced some pondering within me that bring us to the personal reflection section of this post. The sermon had a testimony about how Tripp's life spun out of control on every front during his twenties. As such, the sermon brought up a theme that has been on my mind as of late... actually, probably my whole life.

Pain.

Hold on, before you pull back, ask yourself how you might wrestle with the theme of Pain? At times, we avoid even thinking about it. At other times, we might even pretend it does not exist. But pain is the great equalizer, in that every life will have to grapple with some amount of it. By that, I don't mean physical pain (although the same can be said for it). I am referring to emotional pain. Mind pain. Pain in your psyche. Heart pain. Soul pain.

There is a growing idea that links back to mindfulness which says, "Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional." This gets into questions of mindfulness and how we manage ourselves internally. That idea is extremely interesting to me and there is merit in digging into this idea. Perhaps in another post in the future.

The wording used in the ESV translation of the first chapter of the Epistle of James is when a person "comes under trial."

Based on how I am wired, I feel pain pretty deeply. I have encountered a good bit of it, although in the full accounting of my life, I am extremely fortunate. There are some very difficult and pain-infused lives out there. Mine has not been one of those. With that said, I've had some solid spoonfuls of pain administered to me during my time on Earth.

What this sermon really made me think about is how I feel invested in other people's pain. That is something I am learning about right now. At this phase of life. As such, this sermon provided food for thought.

I have been listening to a song named Song of Ascent on repeat for several days now, as it is really speaking to me [link]. Take the six minutes required to watch this video and pay close attention to the lyrics.

I am accustomed to thinking about the pain, and perhaps even suffering, of others as something I need to intervene and help relieve. I have tended to think it is important to get involved early and help people avoid pain outright. In short, I am accustomed to inserting myself in another person's pain. 

To go to battle for them. 

To protect them.

This is especially true for my boys. I tend to worry about them, making my mind and body ready at a moment's notice to go and stand at their side, or even in front of them. As a way of helping them avoid pain.

And before I back away from this self-description and explore it - I do believe that this is a strength of mine. And in some ways, I revel that I have that impulse. There are times that it is of use and can be important to harness. 

But, like every impulse, if used without wisdom and restraint, it can be destructive

The wisdom on this point are things that I have had imparted to me from others, friends who have given me useful thoughts on this idea of intervening in the pain of others. 

First, a friend of mine whose wisdom is not to be doubted heard me mention how I worry about my sons and that I desire to shield them from pain. The conversation that followed was short, but memorable.

Her: "Wait, hold on a minute. Take a look at what you're saying. You want your sons not to have pain?"

Me: "That is right. I want to protect them. Almost at an instinctual level."

Her: "Here's a question - who is your Father?"

Knowing that she wasn't asking about Dick Cameron, I paused for a few seconds.

Me: "Well, that's diff..."

Her: "Who's your father?"

Me: "God."

Her: "And does He permit you to experience pain?"

Me: "For sure."

Her: "Have you learned something that you need to know from that pain?"

Me: "I have."

Her: "Don't deny your children that same opportunity to learn and grow."

We got quiet for a while.

Heck of a point.

A second friend is walking a difficult path in his life right now. A painful walk not of his making, but one that is close enough to his day-to-day life that he cannot avoid the difficult feelings that come with it. And my friend is an extreme introvert, so the situation is preventing the time alone that he needs to recharge. 

He described himself as feeling "... a deep, deep sense of exhaustion." The weight in his voice when he said this was of note. I've known him for a long time and he is carrying a weight larger than I've ever seen.

Pain.

As he talked, he said that he likes to take complex issues and break them down into a few discreet buckets. Here were his three buckets about his challenge, imparted to me as he put his hands on the table between us into three different spots...

"First, I think we'll have to spend some time learning about this at a societal level. I guess the question is - Is this a thing?"

"Second, and related to the first - Is this a thing for my child right now? While it sounds like the same question as the first, it's not. Is this a very real thing that my child is grappling with right now?"

"And third," he said, his eyes betraying some level of deep emotion while he kept his composure, "what do I need to do to love my child? Without condition. Just love my child in every sense, right now."

And he looked me in the eyes and said about this third sphere of consideration - unconditional love - "And this third one is where I am living right now. Until that is in good order, the other two don't deserve any of my attention."

Whew! A painful situation where the departure point is unconditional love.

Indeed, who is our Father?

If pain is a great teacher, I need to temper the impulse to shield others from it. Within reason, of course, but still... this is a very real thing that I need to grapple with.

In closing, I have started writing in the mornings. By hand and in a small notebook. Yesterday I sketched a little bit about the importance of having faith that isn't only about the visits to the mountaintop, but also about the valleys where the mountains are imposing and in our way.

That is important, because it may be the case that all pain can be converted into an ascent.

All pain. Ascent.

Hope Community Church provided a great setting in which to reflect on who my Father Above is, to remember that pain can provide the best lessons from which to grow, and that sometimes all I need to do is show up for those who need only a sympathetic ear and acceptance.

I was thankful for those reminders as I scanned this positive and encouraging church this morning. Thanks, Hope Community Church.