An experience and a conversation share space in my mind this morning.

The experience

I spent a chunk of yesterday worshipping and then eating with the small and hispanic Mabton congregation. There were 8 adults - half of them looked to be in the early to mid-20's - and about as many children. Unrelated to the adults, the children came from the neighborhood around the church and many (if not all) had been part of the "vacation bible school" held this past summer. 5 volunteers from the Tumwater United Methodist Church were there as well, having come for the weekend to work on the roof of one of the classrooms.

Worship was long by anglo standards, but in that setting seemed just right. We sang -- a lot. And prayed -- a lot. Near the end, we shared communion. But really, the whole thing felt like a time of communion -- of being "with" ourselves and each other and God. There was no sleeping through this service and no rote anything. What would happen next in the service? Only the pastor, Ruben Escalera, knew. And I think he only knew as we went along and he sensed what was needed next.

Our singing was really loud and as off-key as I've ever heard a group of people sing. And Ruben encouraged us to give it even more. "The angels in heaven may have beautiful voices, but they do not have what we have! - our experiences on earth that make us so grateful!" Or, our flesh and blood bodies, which Ruben encouraged us to use by clapping or stamping or moving as we sang. "Worship should use all of us and all of our senses!" We sang in Spanish and I followed as best I could. I struggled at first to get the meaning of each phrase I was singing. Finally I let go of figuring it all out and simply invested the unfamiliar words with my own gratitudes.

During our times of prayer, prayers of gratitude dominated: for the beauty of the day, for work in a time of high unemployment, for family and friends, that the gas in the car's gas tank lasted till pay day, for a life that was changing for the better. Prayers of concern were pleas for spiritual shifts:, a more Christ-like attitude, a clearer sense of God's path, strength to avoid temptation, more trust and less worry, more people following the precepts of Christ.

We both participated in and listened to a sermon on Mark 9. "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief." He left us thinking...what do we each believe? How much do we believe it? 70%? 80%? 90%? What's the impact of our unbelief on our lives and lives of others?

That's when I remembered the conversation.

The conversation

I was talking a couple weeks back with Dan (my partner in CourageousSpace Coaching and Consulting). He was relating an experience he'd had with a group of people from a congregation that had brought him in to talk about congregational renewal. He asked the group, "On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 low and 10 high, how much do you really believe that God has an intent or vision for your congregation's future?"

A majority of the people answered "2" or "3".

"Lord we believe; help our unbelief"