But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.

1 Peter 2:9-10

I wouldn’t say that Rebekah and I are deliberately seeking out quintessential small town experiences… it’s more that we do things as a natural extension of our commitment to participate in community life, and then we look at each other and observe, “Yep, that was another one.”

Yet – in an age defined by noise and glitz and over-the-top and so much of performance – there is something rich and satisfying and undeniably real about sitting on folding chairs in a lecture hall to learn more about the community.

So Tuesday evening Rebekah and I put on our coats, and we walked a half mile along the uneven sidewalks of old Tarboro to the historic Blount-Bridgers House (also known as The Grove). It’s a restored circa 1808 Federal style home used as an art gallery and museum.

The lecture – “Tarboro’s Jewish Community, A History” – was part of a series focused on the history of Eastern North Carolina, sponsored by the Blount Bridgers House Foundation. Presenter Leonard Rogoff, Ph.D. is research historian for North Carolina’s Jewish Heritage Foundation.

So here is the question: Why would 45 people come out on a cold winter’s evening to mill around a table of hors d’oeuvres, chit-chat with their neighbors, peruse art and artifacts, enjoy the gracious hospitality of the Blount-Bridgers Foundation, and listen to a lecture that we probably knew ahead of time was going to lean toward the tedious?

It’s because the experience of community is something that is bound up in the practice of community; it must in a sense be earned in response to our investment. I’m not sure that I am being as clear as I would like. But maybe I am? Maybe this is the point about what we are enjoying here; it’s a cumulative truth that emerges in response to a kind of investment.

The experience of community is something that is bound up in the practice of community…

Church is a lot like this too. We can say all of the following:

• “Come and see!”
• “It is good to worship God here.”
• “We know the preaching will inspire you.”
• “The atmosphere Sunday mornings is beautiful.”
• “Worship will feed your soul.”
• “These are great people to be around.”
• “Joining in with mission, or education, or fellowship events, and other celebrations connects us with our faith in so many encouraging ways.”

But it’s not something we can package and hand out. And it’s not a truth that can be put on a stage to entertain people; it’s a cumulative truth – like experiencing community in a small town – that emerges in response to our investment.

Here is my point. My point is that real life – life that matters and that sustains us and that feeds us – is something other than what mass media mass marketing mass entertainment tries to sell. We were created, the scriptures consistently teach us, for community.

Community has to be experienced.

That’s why we moved over here rather than Rebekah commuting a few days a week. That’s why we walked up to the Blount-Bridgers House Tuesday evening.

That’s why you need to come back to church – DEREK