Everything Is Changing (It Seems)!

I hate change. Leslie will tell you that I rarely cry, but she’ll also tell you that I’m a mess on moving days. I have cried every time that we have moved homes—from Tuscaloosa to New Orleans to Arley to Chelsea to Homewood. It doesn’t matter to me if the move is a good one—exciting, full of potential, something I’ve desired. I struggle with moving.

But I think I know why (or, at least, this is what I tell myself to explain the crying!). There is something within the human heart that longs for stability, for roots, for home. When Abraham struck out from Ur and journeyed to the land of promise, it was hard and unsettling. Indeed, Abraham lived his whole life from that point on in a state of holy discontent: 

By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God. (Hebrews 11:9–10)

Foundations. That’s what Abraham craved. And, importantly, that’s what Abraham never received in this life. Abraham lived and died as a sojourner. Foundations—true, lasting, perfect, and eternal foundations—are only promised and realized in the life to come. For now, we are pilgrims, headed to a Celestial City but traversing a constantly changing landscape.

That reality should shape our church both backwards and forwards. Looking back, we should thank God for times past but not idealize them. Rosewood (and Irontribe, for real CFC veterans) was great, but God calls us to live by faith, not nostalgia. Similarly, we shouldn’t assume that the move to Green Springs is some sort of destination moment. God may have us there until He comes (and that’s Ryan Adams you hear saying, “Please Lord!”). Then again, He may have other plans. Our days are in His hands and not the reverse. Either way, the point isn’t the place but our faith. God wants us trusting Him, obeying Him, serving Him, and following Him until Christ returns, wherever we are.

So, yes, everything is changing, or so it seems. You’ll need to leave earlier or later in the morning, depending on your location. Parents will need to navigate CFC Kids differently. Our staff will need to adjust to an unfamiliar office setup. New people will be present, hopefully, and new ministry opportunities will be available, undoubtedly. And all of us will need to become accustomed to the new worship space, from the ceiling height to the lighting to the acoustics to finding a new favorite place to sit (and I’ll need to re-learn your favorite seats so that I can call you out in sermons!). Things are going to be and feel different.

Church, even though the new space is something we’ve desired and needed, an adjustment period is simply unavoidable. We long for home, but home isn’t here yet. And it never will be until Jesus comes to us and heaven descends upon us. So, let’s prepare for and embrace the change as best we can. And let’s remember that this world is not our home. This life is a life of tents, not foundations. And that’s okay, because foundations await:

And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. (Revelation 21:2)

Blessings,

Bart