Expecting the Opposite

I’m not sure where I got the gut feeling that my phone call to the city of St. Paul would be a painful experience. I don’t call city offices much, if ever, and this was certainly the first time I was calling St. Paul.

 Maybe it’s all of the memories from my visits to county service centers that gave me a bad feeling [shiver]. You know, the line to take a number, the number that sends you to a letter, the letter that sends you to a color.  Then the long wait for your numberlettercolor (Blue76K) to be called before your lunch break expires. (This may be just a reoccurring nightmare of mine and all service centers are really like bureaucratic Jiffy Lubes – I could be wrong.)

 Point is, I was expecting a complicated governmental runaround. And I was just looking to purchase a colorful neighborhood map. So, I called the clerk’s office, mostly because clerk starts with “c” and it was close to the top of the enormous phone directory, in hopes that someone could help.

 Then someone answered right away. And that someone was really nice. So nice, in fact, that I wondered if I had dialed a wrong number and gotten a retail store. To make matters worse, I had indeed called the wrong office, but I was the only one who seemed to mind the mistake. Because Sherry offered to take my number, find out who could help me, and then call me back.

 Had I called Nordstrom’s? I was confused.

 A few minutes later, Sherry called back with the name and number of the person who could help me buy the map I was looking for. I was convinced that the incident was a fluke. No doubt this second call would bring to bare the runaround and charade of voicemails and typical call holdings.

 But Terri answered and was just as nice as Sherry. She was helpful, not in a rush, and offered to send the map that very day. And then the shocker came: she offered to simply put her card in with the map and have me mail in a check once I got it and was sure I liked it.

 I was baffled by how nice these two gals were. Remember, we are talking about the offices of a large metropolitan city. It only gets better from here. I got a package in the mail today from Terri with not one, but two maps, and a hand-written note. She said she noticed that the maps had printed up with a small defect and so she was giving them to me for free.

 FREE. City offices. Two maps, in full color. Hand-written note. And I was never once transferred or put on hold.  

 ***

 I wonder what gut feelings people have when they think about coming to church. I wonder what memories feed those gut feelings. And I wonder if the expectations people have when they come to church are similar to the feelings I had before calling the city.

 Perhaps people see church and service centers much in the same light. Do they perceive church as caring only about people as numbers? Do they sense the church categorizing them into colors or groups? Do they feel the whole process has become about a cold, impersonal exchange? Do they think they’ll have to wait until they’re perfect before they can fully connect with God? And what if all they are looking for is someone to talk to who can help?

 Let’s change these perceptions. What if we give them the opposite of what they expect? Love instead of judgement. Acceptance instead of rejection. Help instead of rituals. Relationship instead of orthodoxy.  God’s righetousness instead of legalistic condemnation.

 What if, more importantly, I woke up everyday and purposed to shock people with kindness and became the church with generous actions?

 Thank you, Terri. Your kindness was completely unexpected. I hope to do the same for others.   

“Every day do something that won’t compute. Love the Lord. Love the world and practice resurrection.” Wendell Barry