The Body United

Last night, several high schoolers from our church hosted a multi-church worship night. They called it 'Unite'. My husband was asked to be the pastor-in-charge, to which he gladly agreed, because though we don't often attend events like this, we love to support them when we can.

By the time I arrived at the church, the sanctuary was full of teenagers and some adults. The room buzzed with conversation. Loud music thumped through the speakers. I settled in some chairs with my six children and observed the scene.

It's funny how quickly one falls back into old patterns. Even as a thirty-six-year old mom, I felt like a young outsider once again. I was never as pretty as "those" girls. I never had money for "nice" clothes. I was always aloof, on the fringe, not really part of any one group. If I had gone to an event like this as a high schooler, I probably would have hid in a shadow and watched.

But just as quickly, I took hold of these thoughts and held them captive. The youth last night were energetic, passionate, caring. They played a game and eagerly mixed, mingled, and met new people. This was what I needed in high school: a place of acceptance, where boundaries of ethnicity and cliques and social class were torn down. This, I told myself, this is the Body of Christ. And it was beautiful. I wouldn't have felt so alone in my faith if I had had a group like this in my teenage years.

So I pushed away my old fears and joined in the game. A boy was scampering about, trying to find a partner, and I offered myself. The goal was to find something in common with your new friend. He was an eighth-grader; I was well beyond school. He was Korean; me, Chinese. "I play the piano," I suggested. "Me too!" he said. And there, we had our commonality.

While the youth stood and sang in worship, my thoughts wandered back to being the 'girl on the fringe'. How many here are like me? I wondered. I had noticed a girl coming in late with a violin and binder. She stood in the back of the crowd. Another girl sat with her head bowed, not singing. Either she was bored or burdened. I wish I had the time to find out. But with six kids hovering about me (and two taking turns grabbing my legs), it was hard to be conversational. And I had to leave before the event ended, but not before I prayed for those girls, and others who felt like outsiders.

The only thing I would like to change about last night is how all the adults (drivers, youth leaders, parents) stayed in the rear of the room. Yes, this was a youth-run event, but worship is worship, right? This is the Body of Christ, and if we still allow age to divide us, then the Body is not yet whole. But how to change this? Any thoughts?