Tonight I had the chance to see an old pastor of mine, a man I very dearly love and miss. It was very strange, because even though it has been literally years since I’ve seen him, it felt like we’d just had coffee the day before. I was dumbfounded by the feeling of family, community, and relationship I still get around this guy.
But I was more struck because I don’t know how that really happens.
Here’s depth of relationship, quality of fellowship, love, joy, peace, family. Sure, he’s the head of his flock. But talking to him you feel like he’s a fellow sheep and shepherd all at once.
This is something God has been dealing with me on a lot. I’ve sort of lived my life like a politician.
You see, my greatest desire is to have genuine relationship, true fellowship, and bonded family ties with my church.
But I think too often I find myself greasing palms and kissing babies, polishing my plastic smile instead of sharing myself and opening up enough to truly connect with people.
At church, at work, you name it. Where I want to connect with people, invest in people, get the best out of and pour the best into people, I find myself platforming. I maintain a certain level of well-rehearsed yet safely removed charisma;
In other words I make a thousand friends a day but I still go to bed lonely.
Where do you think this comes from? I think this is one of the greatest challenges about being called to and involved in ministry, the “platform relationships” we build.
To be honest, I’d much rather know 3 people like brothers and sisters and spend most of my time having relationships with them than be the kind of person who emotionally grazes everyone I meet.
What’s the missing ingredient in having real connections with people?
Do you ever feel like a politician?
Everyday, Sean. Everyday!
I think I struggle with the opposite — I end up pushing away potential relationships because I’m too afraid to play politics. It’s tiring!
Back in college when I first started school, I would decline multiple invites from people because I was too timid to go do stuff with them… and then they’d stop inviting me and I’d be lonely. So needless to say, repelling politics doesn’t really work either.
In the end, I realized that this is sort of backwards and the shape of “politics,” if you will, is a good thing. It’s the frame, but not the picture of who we are. (……Does that make sense?) Anyway, once I realized this, I started being *slightly* more outgoing and willing to hang out with people I don’t know. I’m actually happy to say I can be comfortable in a room without really knowing everyone. That’s a huge step for me!
(by the way… I’m realizing that I feel more and more like Elliot Reed every time I comment your blogs because everything turns into an awkward, lengthy novella. LOVE IT.)