Empty, the room is clear and the floor shines.  The silence, with the exception of the hum from the ceiling vents, rules the space.  For some, the stasis might seem to be the room’s natural, intended state but an invasion is coming.  Soon, people will fill the space, sully the floor, tarnish the shine.  Their voices, their activity, will shatter the silence.  The good news is that although the luster is gone, once full; the room is so much richer.

Our church happens in a “commons” area of a school.  On Sundays it is full of common people, learning a common message nearly as old as time, loving each other and the Word in common.  In common we are capable of so very, very, much more than we are on our own.  Together we can do wonderful things.

Each week we transform an empty, plain, sterile space, filling it with the most fantastic of things:  people.  In the middle of a space that could hardly be more secular there is holiness.  In the midst of the everyday and the common, what happens is anything but common.  It is fitting that we learned it from a guy named Jesus.  Someone who came from the humblest of beginnings in a manger and grew up the son of a carpenter, a tradesman, and who was the savior of the world.

The space doesn’t look like much but we take it, make it our own and elevate it each week.  It becomes a tangible, visible example of what is possible in our lives.  We follow a common man who was born to be uncommon, just as we all are.

Imagine where we can take our new space.  Imagine how much more community can be built, how many more we can help come to Christ and how many more we can tell about the friend we have here.  Imagine how we can live out and show others what it means to be in community, in Christ and in friendship with them.  Our dreams should, must, be so far and above what seems reasonable.  They should reach the radical, rarified air our creator commands.  They should be directed toward the heights our savior urged people and his disciples to attain during his time here on earth.

So go ahead, charge forward.  It’s okay to not know where this will lead you.  Forge on, in His name.

Moving into our own building is a big step for our church and one that can’t help but change us.  My prayer is that we remain rooted in our common belief and our common approach.  

Every week I write a bit about what’s going on with me and my life.  It’s my hope that you see some of yourself in me.  I think we all have more in common than we realize.  If you would like to read more, click here to go to my home page.  I hope you like what you read and that you’ll subscribe.  It’s free and just means you will receive an email every week with links to the week’s posts.  You can subscribe at the blog or here by clicking this.