Reflections on Emmaus Road

Over a year and a half ago now, I wrote about a desire to begin a ministry here which came to be called "Emmaus Road: A Postmodern Worship Gathering." And ten months ago, we held our first gathering in the Upper Room at Lafayette First Nazarene. Since then, the number of those gathering with us has averaged in the low thirties.

This last Sunday, May 20, was probably our last gathering together. There are several reasons for this that I won't detail here. Still, I wanted to reflect on all that God has done during the 10 months we journeyed together on the Emmaus Road.

(To see and hear some of the specifics of what has occured over the last year, you can click on the link attached to this post. It will take you to the website we created--with our limited web knowledge.)

As far as the responses I've heard from those who participated, Emmaus Road held great meaning for many of them. And judging from the prayers and letters to God written in the community journal and through the written prayer responses from various gatherings, people were connecting with God on a profound level. All of this encourages me to know that what was taking place was being led by God as we were open to what He wanted to do and as we sought to be real and honest before Him

Perhaps what stood out the most from the gatherings was the general sense in which there was time and space to speak to and hear from God. For me, after each service, a special sense of stillness before God prevailed in me so much so that I didn't want to leave that sacred space where God had visited with us. Those who had gathered shared openly the concerns and praises of their hearts in a way that doesn't often happen in more traditional worship gatherings.

If I were to say what I think it was that drew people to Emmaus Road and kept many of them there, I would say it had a to be hunger for more of God, for more from a worship gathering than empty, hollow, and shallow liturgy. They desired to really connect with God, to lay bare their hearts, desires, dreams, and fears, and to be challenged to do so--to have their assumptions about how God's Spirit works and move shaken to the core. They desired to go through a refining fire and to come out purified.

I don't know that all of that happened, or if it did that it happened with great frequency. But I think it happened enough, and to a great enough extent that people kept coming back month after month.

I hope and trust that God will lead us to a place of ministry, whether in Lafayette or another city, where this can happend on a regular basis, where there is freedom for the Spirit to roam and move and draw and correct and convict and to do all the things God wants to do in us through Christ by His Spirit.

I certainly don't claim to know what that will look like exactly. I don't even know what it does or will mean for me and my family . . . but I know I don't want to live without it anymore.

Looking For A Church

So, I'm looking for a church. Really. I'm looking to move on to a real church. One that tastes, and sounds, and looks, and feels, and even smells like Jesus. One that resembles the early group of believers who joined together and "devoted themsleves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, sharing in the Lord's Supper and in prayer" (Acts 2:42, NLT).

I'm currently in a ministry setting that I somewhat enjoy--I mean I love pastoring people and getting together and doing life in Christ together. But I really dislike the "this is how we do church because we've always done church this way" kind of feel. I keep asking myself "Why am I doing what I'm doing?" and "What is it really accomplishing for God's kingdom?" My answers leave me somewhat wanting.

I want to find a place of ministry where when I finish preaching on a Sunday a.m. or finish leading worship or finish teaching discipleship or . . . whatever, that I KNOW that this is what Christ died for! This is all (at least for this time) that we were created and meant for. That when we spend our lives together in worship, in serving, in praying, in fellowship, that it's all real--as real as it can possibly get. Maybe not every time--but at least more often than it happens now.

I've been wrestling with this for months now. I'm think I'm stuck in a Robert Frost poem where two roads divide: I've got to decide which one to take.

So I'm looking for a church--any suggestions?