Yesterday, I wrote a post about The Purpose of a Bible Study, and today I want to do a quick follow-up. The post was about the reasons I attend Bible Studies, and why I didn’t attend this week.
It most definitely wasn’t wrong for me to take a night off…
but something about yesterday’s post bothered me throughout the day, and I think I’ve discovered what’s wrong with it.
“I just wasn’t there…”
– that’s what I wrote towards the top of the post to let you know that I didn’t go to Bekah’s house and participate in Bible study; I wasn’t physically present.
But the thing that slowly occured to me yesterday is that the reason I wasn’t physically there is that I’m not emotionally or spiritually there.
By “there”, I mean that place where I joyfully take ownership over my Bible study, guiding conversations to those wonderful points of connection between two souls… those conversations that are God-centered and God-glorifying.
I could be the person who starts those kinds of conversations no matter what everyone else is talking about.
I’ve done it before.
I’ve seen other people do it.
Yesterday, as I was wondering what was jamming my brain, I remembered seven years ago when I first started attending a church called the Crossing.
At the Crossing, we had weekly Tuesday night dinners, which entailed our pastor and his family feeding us at their house in the middle of nowhere (deep in the OV). On those nights, we usually ate, talked, played poker (only occasionally), played basketball (once or twice), etc…
but we’d also talk about Jesus.
For a long time, I didn’t realize how intentional pastors Dave and Adam were in leading us into these conversations.
It felt like they just happened.
But the truth that I found out later, as I took on responsibilities at the the Crossing, was that it takes devoted servants to make those conversations happen.
I could be that devoted servant at my new church.
You don’t have to have some sort of title or official position to ask people what God is doing in their lives. You just talk to people.
But that’s what I’m talkig about when I write “I just wasn’t there”
I’m not a devoted servant right now.
You know how one of those books (probably Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus) says that men go into their caves to solve problems?
I know I’m not a man, but I’m totally in my cave.
I’m reading a thousand books a day and playing a lot of video games because I’m not ready to be that devoted servant. I’m certainly devoted. I can feel God working on me.
But I’m also benched right now.
God benched me.
And I benched myself.
So I’m sort of watching the game, analyzing it, seeing what other players are doing and cheering them on.
I don’t feel ready.
I don’t feel ready to be around others, which is why I’m on the bench in my cave.
And it’s easier to think in here. In the dark. Without distractions. Without other peoples’ problems. Without emotions. Without anyone who is going to hurt me.
There’s no pressure in here.
Nothing I do actually affects the game.
Which is why I should probably come out of my cave soon.
I should be that devoted servant at Holy Cross.
What I experienced at the Crossing on those Tuesday nights was special, and I’ve never experienced it in quite the same way since… but maybe that’s because it’ takes intentional, devoted servanthood from someone who has experienced that which is special.
Maybe it takes servants climbing off the bench and coming out of their caves.