Atlanta. Day 17 and 18.
Saturday I cooked more cinnamon-vanilla pancakes and scrambled eggs, had some time to finally sit down and study some Scripture (been a while), and worked on designs. That night, Tim O’Mara came and picked me up and we went to a house party he was having at his home in Adair Park. Adair Park is one of the roughest spots in Atlanta, right next to the terrible Pittsburgh neighborhood. Tim talked a lot about issues like gentrification, as well as just being a good neighbor to all of those around him. And his actions are clearly changing the neighborhood. Kids were coming to the door the whole night to talk to, “Mr. Tim.” He’s gotten so many of them out of gangs, and is helping them learn to work and serve in their neighborhood to make it a better place. And it’s working. The streets are all cleaned up now because the kids are going out and working on them. It’s incredible. And it’s all just because he’s unafraid to be a part of what’s going on around him. He has stepped into some rough situations in the park, sometimes scared to do so, but his boldness has always made the neighborhood better. Besides all of that stuff, though, I got to meet a lot of great people that night; it was a lot of fun, and I hope to hang out with that group of people a lot more this summer.
Sunday I went to North Atlanta Church of Christ to hear Don McLaughlin speak. He did an excellent job, of course. But I was kind of shocked at how tame and suburban his church was. Having heard him speak about his life before, I thought his church would reflect his story: rough backgrounds emancipated by grace. But so many people were there in pressed shirts and ties. Everything was so… Clean… It was weird. But I guess I can’t judge too much, because I met one older couple that actually took me out to lunch. We wound up having a lot in common: he used to go to school with one of my neighbors from MS, and she went to Freed. They were a great couple, and really showed a Christian hospitality that meant a lot to me.
At night, I went to Buckhead Church. That was my first megachurch experience, actually. And I kind of left with mixed feelings. I mean, here was a church that is bigger than several of my college’s buildings put together, and has like 6,000 people or something… The worship was spectacular. The auditorium and lights and screens and cameras and stages were breathtaking. The message was impeccably presented: so challenging and so moving. The people were kind and welcoming. But… It just seemed like… This extravagant… Waste. It had to be millions and millions of dollars poured into this event-based church that, granted, was powerful but… Is this what Jesus meant by church? To be fair, is clean, suburban North Atlanta what Jesus meant by church? It’s just that… I see people who are failing to pay off a home that only costs $5,000, or who don’t have money to get their next meal, or who don’t have a change of clothes, or who are addicted to so much crap and… We just keep pouring money into a better worship experience. Something is not right here. But I don’t know what. I loved Buckhead. LOVED it. But I kind of felt guilty for it too.
So I don’t know. What do you think church is?
