Socks

I've given up on matching socks. I still do the obvious ones, but I've come to a point where I have so many single socks that I just look for two that are the same thickness and call it good. This has led to Chewbacca on one foot and chickens on the other, but I'm not sure anyone cares. 

Except my husband. Don't tell him.

I'm starting to feel much the same way about the Church. There was recently an article in our Lutheran magazine about the Future Church. It sounds like a great plan to make the church relevant and sustainable and I'm thankful someone is working on it. 

But there is a part of me that cringes at the idea of the Future Church much like I do when people say "children are the future of the church." 

They aren't. 

They are the present. 

We can only live in the present with a vision of God's future that may or may not include the Lutheran Church. 

There was a lot of talk about innovation. And I suddenly felt tired. 

I've got nothing new up my sleeve that will make the church relevant and sustainable. No music, technology, sermon, or program will do it. 

I am called to act out and tell the story of God's saving love. If I don't trust in the power of love to save, then I'm screwed regardless of how innovative I am. 

I'm less about innovation and more about improvisation. We have lots of mismatched socks and now we need to figure out how to use them as socks for the Gospel of peace.

I look at what we have right now in front of us and then ask the question how can we use what we have to tell the story of a people gathered, loved, and sent into the world as witnesses to abundant love. It's not always relevant, sustainable or innovative, but sometimes it reaches those who need some loving and sometimes it flops.  

We're not in charge of saving the world; we share the news that it has been saved so you don't have to be a self-absorbed jerk. 

I've become kind of attached to mismatched socks. I get a little more life out of some of my favorite ones long after their partner was eaten by the washing machine or Mr. Bumpy. The combinations surprise me  and make me giggle. And sometimes I do have to throw the socks away because they have served me well and now my toe sticks out.