God is mysterious.

I was riding the other day and came to a stop light that prohibited me from going anywhere. This cracks me. You’re in a rhythm, you’re clicked-in, you don’t want to have to stop (sometimes you don’t).

I stopped.

There was another cycler there, waiting patiently to proceed when I pulled up. He looked at me (more specifically my cycle because it is a lot more attractive than I) and said, “Don’t I know you?”
I said, “I’m not sure.”
He said, “Yeah, I think I recognize your Giant” (the brand of my cycle).

The English language is an interesting thing isn’t it? He asked if he “knew” me but what he was acutally asking was, “Haven’t I seen you riding on this path before? I recognize your bike.”

It makes me wonder how many people we actually “know” or that “know” us. I’ll save that for another day.

We begin to cycle together. Usually conversation goes from how incredible the day is to how long we’ve been cycling. Sometimes it goes beyond small talk and you begin to learn about the person that you’re cycling with. That’s what happened with Chris….

Our conversation started with the small talk but quickly went to a place that suprised me. We started to talk about when we take our weekly long ride. He took his on Sunday and wanted to know if I wanted to join him this week.

How cool is that? We had just met and already he invited me to share an experience with him that he was passionate about.

I told him that Sunday’s are usually busy days for me.

Here’s the tension: I have found that because I happen to work in a church, it often disqualifies me from relationships with people. Thus, I have found ways to be in their lives for an extended period of time before they know. If they can get to know me and experience Jesus loving and serving them through me before they find out I’m a pastor, I have earned the right to continue as a friend in their life. On the flip side, if they find out I work in a church first, the relationship doesn’t have a chance.

Why is that?

He asked me why. Here it comes—“I’m a pastor,” I say.

“Oh, I don’t believe in organized religion,” says he, “But I do believe in God.”

“Huh,” I say, “That is what you and I have in common.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I hate religion. I think God hates religion. I don’t think that Jesus came to bring a new religion, but instead, he came to bring a new Way of life.”

“You know, I agree!” says Chris. “Why is it then that the church is about religion?”

Isn’t it crazy that in our post-Christian/post-congregation world, people are interested in God and Jesus, but not church. If it hasn’t already, this should make us think long and hard about the reality of North America’s church!

The conversation ended by Chris giving me his number and asking about what kind of church it is that I am a pastor of. He said that he and his family would be interested in a church that followed Jesus and made a difference in the world.

Reflect with me:
Would you have the courage to have that kind of conversation with Chris or are you more interested in “converting” him on the spot?
What if the church Chris and his family are looking for looks nothing like what you go to on Sundays?
What if the church that the new world needs looks nothing like what you go to on Sundays?
What would that church look like?