Church of Misfits

I met a church planter named Jim when I took a group of teenagers to Colorado a few years ago. He told me about how his church's location, a gift of God in itself, was an odd location. At the back of a cemetery, it also found itself with a phone number from one town, address from another, and still another town somehow involved with their contact info. "They have to really be looking for us to find us," he said with a smile. Then, he described the people that made up his church, how many of them had been ill fit in other churches, and even in society at large. They came from backgrounds as diverse as the church's address, and had different hangups and struggles as well. He concluded, in a very complimentary way, "We're a church of misfits."

That term conjures up for me images of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and his visit to an island with toys no one wanted. At first, these strange toys were a bit scary to Rudolph and Company, but soon they learned they weren't scary at all, but toys that needed love and acceptance.

What struck me about Jim's comment was the fact that I had never known a church of misfits. I grew up in a part of the world where church attendance was a status symbol. In my church growing up, I belonged to the in-group. I was highly involved in my church in college, and then went straight into the ministry, so I always felt a part of the church. I was surrounded in these churches by people of stature in the community- bankers, doctors, ranchers, school administrators, wealthy retirees. I never thought of church as a place for misfits, because I had never noticed them in my church.

But they must have been there, though probably not for long. I looked back at the group of teenagers I was leading. No misfits there- but I did think about the students who hadn't come- who had never clicked in this group. One student I had spent time with had come from a troubled background. Dillan met Christ, and wanted more. I would work with him and he was always eager to help out. Eventually, for some reason, he stopped coming. But as I thought about it, I realized that he had been a misfit- others never accepted him. And if there was one Dillan out there, there must be more.

Much of that trip to Colorado shaped my desire for a new kind of church- which would ultimately become the Gate. That comment about misfits and my sudden realization that my whole life I had been a part of the problem of accepting the easy kids and ignoring the misfits took point. I wanted a church to exist for those who felt left out, ignored, or flat our rejected by the church...and society.

I've since visited churches and come to realize that all churches have a culture. Some churches are for the cool people. Some for the people who like to have the Bible beaten into them. Some for the tradtitionalist, others for the new stuff. Some churches are very proper, others very informal. People who don't fit that culture are subtly (or forcefully) moved out. Even the Gate has a culture- but we are keenly aware that we do, and work hard to make it a culture of openness.

When I think about our church, I realize we are growing into a group of misfits in some ways. We have pastor's kids seated with people who never spent much time in church. We have country kids and rock kids. We have computer geeks and people like me. We have thinkers and we have doers, we have theologians in training and we have new believers. We have people who didn't fit anywhere else, but in our little gatherings, they have found a home. In the process, I came to realize that everyone is a misfit in some ways- everyone is the black sheep of the family.

While every church has a culture, and it is important that we do, I hope that we develop a culture that has a place for everyone. I think it starts with each of us looking around and seeing who seems to feel out of place, then making it a point to welcome them in. The out of place person may be new, or have been there their whole life and no one ever noticed them.

Be the fellow misfit that does.