I’m not sure the last time that I saw as many smiling children as I did on Friday, October 30 at Madison’s “No Fear Here” celebration. But it’s been a few months, and those smiles have faded somewhat from my memory, as has my involvement at Madison outside of weekly Sunday attendance.
That night, though, I experienced something magical, and not just because Harry Potter himself was present. I watched that evening as Madison Square Church flung its doors open to kids and parents from its various communities: those of the church family itself and of the surrounding neighborhoods. And members of those communities poured in, dressed as Power Rangers, Princesses, Transformers, ghouls, goblins, and witches. I saw a few ninjas and a pirate or two; even Hannah Montana made an appearance, though she wasn’t handing out autographs.
I personally had worked a table game, determining how many tries each contestant received and just what they would leave with, a prize for winning or a piece of candy for effort. And I stood there understanding the meaning of “no fear here” better and better throughout the night. As far as I was concerned, the night of activities and candy went beyond merely offering a safe alternative to Halloween; it spread joy. I saw smiling face after smiling face, and they didn’t just belong to kids. Parents beamed as their young ones grew more and more excited about all the experiences they were offered. Volunteers smiled at the happiness they were able to contribute towards. And, of course, the kids were smiling because of the fun, candy, and prizes available to them.
In that I saw a church that wasn’t just a Sunday event. Instead, I saw a church that cared about its people. But by “its people” I don’t just mean the people who hold a membership and have yearly gift expectations. Instead, I mean those who belong because of vicinity. Those who belong because they’re people and thus inherently important to Christ and, therefore, his bride, the Church. Those who belong because they’re loved by God, even though they might not fully understand what that means. I saw a church that cared enough to sacrifice money, resources, and a Friday night’s worth of free time so that it could show the love of Christ to others.
But I haven’t seen that kind of church for a little while. Because I’ve turned Madison back into a Sunday break from life. I’ve taken a church desperately wanting to be a community, and I’ve minimized it into exactly what it’s striving so hard not to be.
Certainly, I have good excuses. I just graduated from Calvin College after a grueling senior year. No one would fault me, had they looked at my academic schedule over the last few months, for sidestepping volunteer service. Or how about the fact that I’ve been blessed with a new dating relationship this year? That’s a decent explanation for where my time has gone. And, of course, I need some time to myself; I need to de-stress. And I need to build my relationships with my housemates. And I need to visit my parents in Illinois every once in awhile. Plus I work part-time. When you think about it, I’m lucky I’ve even got time for an hour and a half of worship on Sunday mornings.
You know, I’ll have plenty of time to work in ministry during my upcoming three years in seminary and afterward, when it’s more expected of me. Yeah, that’s when I’ll do it. I’ll truly become a member of Madison’s community then.
I’m sorry to say that I’ve been missing out ever since that cold, rainy October night. I don’t know what’s going on at Madison. I don’t know the people, the issues, the concerns, the praises, the joy, the pain; I don’t know the reality of the family I want to feel a part of, and it’s my fault.
And I want to change that. So I’m going to try.
Keep checking back here. I’m hoping that through this blog, we’ll not just stay informed about Madison, but we’ll find ourselves motivated to become involved ourselves.
Thanks for reading.
-Brandon Haan
P.S. Pray. Constantly.
