Living in Perfectville

 We live in a cozy suburb of Chicago known as West Chicago which is often confusing since it isn't in the city of Chicago at all and those who don't know the area end up thinking we're simply on the west outskirts of the city. The reality is, as you drive west from the city of Chicago, you must fly through a number of suburbs before arriving at our town about an hour away. Some of those neighbourhoods are observably more run down and others are more observably posh and elite. In every town there are certainly wealthier and less wealthy, dwellings of modest structure and those of elaborate and modern updates. There are what we call McMansions, Rural-posh, Rural-ragged, Historic-grandiose, Historic-charming, well-kept, un-kept, struggling-to-be-kept (that's where we land it seems 😅😀) - homes of every kind.

Yet there are certain areas that I simply call 'Perfectville'. We live near one of these areas, and are often thankful to not live IN them (our neighbours would likely get too annoyed with the weeds in our yard). We love the people of Perfectville - we observe their lives and grand homes, and enjoy them and are grateful for their open hospitality and warmth and friendship. We simply love Perfectville. At the same time, we don't always feel like we fit in these areas, and that is ok. It's fine for areas to have a flavour, style, a reflection of particular values. Hey, I value pristine conditions as much as the next guy, I just don't seem to be able to pull it off as well as those in Perfectville.

Now, it's not a problem that Perfectville exists - on the contrary, it adds beauty and joy, especially at Christmas when we drive around to see the sights of glorious light displays and epically grand Christmas trees. I appreciate beauty and others' efforts to care for their corner of God's green earth - homes, decorations and all.

The one place, however, that Perfectville can be problematic is when Perfectville people are the only kinds we see at church. I am SO thankful that I've never been in a church which is only filled with those appearing to be perfect.  But I do hear that some get the impression at churches on occasion that it is filled with only perfectly-put-together-happy-stable-well-ordered-life type of people. The perfect people who live in Perfectville can sometimes pull off a perfect impression. If an entire church seems to be made up of a singular strata of society, it can cause your average struggling-to-get-out-of-bed-and-not-look-bedraggled person to feel small, misfitting, a fish out of water. Does this mean the people of Perfectville should take their polish down a notch? Not in the least - you do you, by all means. But they might do well to make sure all feel welcome, seen, greeted, known. 

Church needs to be a place for the anxious and the applauded, the broken and the brilliant, the car-mechanic and the civil engineer. 

It needs to be a place the strung-out addict can find welcome and hope. Where the academic and abandoned sit at one table as equals. A place where the acne-faced and dermatologist-assisted find common ground. Where the overweight and the supermodel feel at home with each other. A place where the grey-haired and the purple-haired embrace each other. A place where the depressed and the type A's move beyond tolerating each other to listening and empathy. A place where curry is welcome at the potluck, and vegans can find dish as well. A place where clergy and laity feel like brothers and sisters. A place where tears are welcome and those who can't shed them are comfortable too. A place where the janitor and the CEO see no difference in esteem because their esteem comes from Christ. It needs to be a place where Perfectville and Struggling-ville find they are really one and the same.

I've never been at a perfect church. And I know in reality 'Perfectville' doesn't actually exist - it is merely a figment of our imagined impressions. But I've been in such a broad spectrum of churches and worshiping communities and found great richness of joy and experience in those where we feel as family - welcomed and accepted no matter our depth of vocabulary or accolades. Where diversity of socio-economic status is the normal experience rather than the exception.

I don't pretend to know how to accomplish this. There is no formula for love. If you want a formula, simply start with love and see where it takes you. How can every single person who walks through the doors of church feel loved? That is a good guiding question. Churches certainly are places that proclaim truth, doctrine, dogma, ideals, realities - seen and unseen. I never pretend to promote love as a mechanism to deny the need for solid Christian teaching. I find it strange that I even have to answer this imagined rebuttal, but I know it's out there: almost a fear that if I say 'Simply love!' as an imperative, there is some kind of 'yeah, well what about...' and 'can't it go too far...' or 'in your definition of love, please include tough love.'  Sadly, these are what I imagine people think when I say, 'simply love!' So I have a challenge if this is a reaction you encounter in yourself or others. Try it out for a while. See if it's possible to be TOO welcoming, TOO loving, TOO accepting. See if you can actually overdo love. Go ahead. Take the challenge. Scripture tells us to 'outdo one another in showing love.' Go ahead and try and see if that's possible. Really. I mean it.

As for Perfectville, I will continue to love it, welcome those who live there, embrace their gifts and bless them in the name of Christ. Love is not limited to the poor and destitute. I'm pretty sure Perfectville people need love too. 

If any of these words resonate with you, I hope you will seek to make your church a place where the Perfects and the Raggeds find love, refuge, welcome and equal esteem.