Aj Schwanz

Yesterday was Sunday morning gathering; yesterday was the beginning of Northwest Yearly Meeting of Friends Churches 114th Annual Sessions; yesterday was HOT.

• During announcements, Steve-O said, “When NWYM had their first annual sessions, they met right here in this very building.¬† In honor of that, we thought we’d use their original air conditioning.”¬† I.e.¬† NOTHING.¬† No A/C, no fans:¬† just a bunch of bodies packed in to a poorly ventilated building.

• Gregg commented that ususally a lot of folks smooshed in a room will raise the temperature; but with our internal core being 98.6 degrees, we were acting more likely acting as coolers than heaters.¬† Ha ha.

• Some folks were fantastic and started bringing in ice water and cups to distribute among people, because “while it may seem distracting to get up and get a drink, it’d be more distracting if you passed out.”

While I was sitting in my seat, figuring out how to sit gracefully but having the least amount of contact with others or myself (it’s amazing how crossing your legs or arms decreases coolness), wondering how folks in the South handle stuff like this, continually looking at the clock to know how many more minutes were left before I could flee to cooler surroundings, I realized, “I have no clue what is going on in this worship service.”¬† I sang the songs, but had no clue what I was singing; I watched the people around me not remembering their names; I watched the powerpoint slides as Gregg clicked through them talking about the history of our Yearly Meeting.¬† But the reason I remember what Gregg was talking about it because Jason told me about it beforehand.¬† I thought about how Jason, who was playing in the worship band, was surviving wearing long pants, playing his bass, and sitting under the hot lights.¬† I wondered how my little walking shower also known as my son was surviving:¬† he hasn’t quite drawn the cause/effect nature of running around like a banshee despite the heat and feeling ucky.

Yesterday I wondered:¬† if God decided to come walk among us this day, would God show up for service at NFC on this hot day?¬† My first impression of what God would say:¬† “You want me to hang out in here?¬† I’m gonna be out at Tilikum in the shade fishing.¬† Y’all can melt if you that’s what you really want to do – I’ll catch ya later in the cooler parts of the ‘berg.”

Perhaps some people had a very genuine worship experience:¬† I don’t want to negate that.¬† But I wonder . . . if almost every year it’s blazing on this Sunday, and we know that the room will be packed with out-of-towners, and we’re seeking to be a church living in response to God rather than ritual . . . why are we so determined (or one might say bone-headed) to continue to meet as we have?

Part of me says things like this shouldn’t bother me:¬† I should be able to enter into worship despite conditions.¬† One person even said that God doesn’t feel the heat:¬† haha.

But part of me sees it as an opportunity to do something else.¬† What if we met differently?¬† What if we had one big gathering at Bauman or lots of little gatherings in air conditioned parts of the church?¬† What if we encouraged our folks to connect with folks at the Yearly Meeting gathering and invite them into their homes or go out to breakfast:¬† to fellowship together?¬† People would ask why:¬† they might have a hard time understanding what was going on. ¬† But wouldn’t that help us talk – discuss – engage – communicate – be in relationship?

What if we used these conditions as an opportunity rather than a detraction?

What will the next year hold?  Probably more of the same:  but next year you may find me dipping my toes in the lake at Tilikum with God instead of sticking to a wooden pew in a Godly fashion.