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Lennae met her husband in an airport on their way to India. She is a northerner trying to develop a love for sweet tea, black eyed peas, and catfish in the Deep South. 

Not long ago I was in a nearby city for an event. This event was being held in a church where I hadn’t been before, so as I was waiting for it to start I looked around and studied my surroundings. What I saw was fairly traditional.

In the back of the seats in front of me were the same hymnals that I sang from growing up. I opened one. They smelled the same too. The walls and ceiling were a neutral cream. I recognized the artwork on the wall. I saw pictures of people I know who are serving in other countries. It was familiar. It was comfortable. It was orderly and predictable. I could imagine what a Sunday morning service would be like and for a moment I found myself thinking, “I could go to church here. This is the kind of place where we would be content.”

Suddenly it occurred to me, what I was thinking: Content? Comfortable? Predictable? It’s not that I’m that much of a traditionalist, but for a moment it seemed appealing. You see, my husband and I are involved in a church plant and it’s uncomfortable at times.

We’re not unfamiliar with living outside of our comfort zones. We lived in another country, experienced culture shock, have eaten unfamiliar foods, and been baffled by customs that don’t make sense to our American way of thinking. We loved it because we knew that’s what we were called to do, and yet there were still times when I prayed, “Lord, I just want a ‘normal’ life.”

If I am being completely honest with myself, I have to admit that there are elements of this church plant that have been more stretching than living in a foreign country. Over there I expect to be challenged and uncomfortable. I expect to be surrounded by people speaking another language, observing traditions I don’t understand and following other religions. But I’m not in another county now. I’m in the U.S., I’m living that “normal” life, and to a degree I expect church to be familiar too. There should be people like me singing songs I know in an atmosphere I recognize, right?

Wrong. That’s not the purpose of the Church. It’s not to make people like me content. I am not who the church is here for.

We don’t need to reach more like us. The Church is here to reach those who haven’t been reached, those who haven’t heard or experienced love, grace or healing. That’s what I’m re-discovering with this church plant. It doesn’t really matter what I think about the music, the decor, the lighting or the style of preaching. I may love it or I may not. It’s not important, because it’s not about me.

It’s about reaching those whose lives are messy. That’s who it’s about. Not us. Not our comfort. Not our desire to spend time with those like us.

The truth is, it doesn’t matter where we are called—to the other side of the world, the other side of the country, the other side of the city or the other side of the street. We are not called to be comfortable. We’re to follow the example that Christ set for us. We’re here to serve, to reach those who haven’t heard about a forgiving Father, to share Christ’s love with those who haven’t experienced it, and to disciple those who are young in their faith. We can expect that it will be uncomfortable, unpredictable, and all-out messy at times because that’s when true compassion, forgiveness, grace and mercy are best demonstrated.

It won’t be comfortable, predictable, or easy but that’s not what matters, because it truly isn’t about me.

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