Where Everybody (Somebody?) Knows My Name

Today we moved the last of the stuff out of our office on 61 Gramercy Park North. As we begin a search for a new place for Communitas to meet on Sundays, we figured we would save some money by working out of our apartments. So I dragged my son Caleb away from his school work to drive a borrowed Jeep a few blocks down Lexington Avenue to try the impossible- to find parking near the office. No such luck. So we were stuck with the task of hauling boxes and an ancient, very heavy HP printer a few blocks. We had to take several breaks to let our arms rest. We made it to 22nd and Lexington before one of the boxes ripped open, spilling the contents onto the sidewalk. The Jeep was just down the street, so I picked up the mess and stayed with the stuff as Caleb took a box or two at a time to the Jeep. As I waited I began to look at some of the interesting architecture on the buildings on the corner. Suddenly, a woman with a dog was standing next to me, following my gaze as I looked at the 15 story building across the street. She asked me if I had ever noticed the building right on the corner where I stood. She began to describe it using architectural terms that I did not understand. She went into a lot of detail and mentioned how many times she had walked by this building…hundreds of times, before she noticed the intricate detail and artistry. Diane turned out to be quite a talker. She ended up with us at our Jeep, telling stories of having spinal meningitis as a child, before there was medicine to treat it. How she was hit by a car at age 5 and had a compound fracture that still bothers her at age 66. She told me about an internet business she had just started, and about how mentioning King Tut’s name keeps his spirit alive (don’t ask me what that means), and too many other things to remember. She has lived all of her life in New York, and as we talked as if we were old friends, I couldn’t help but think that here she was, in a city of 8 ½ million, lonely, starved for some human contact and conversation.

As we talked, I had to remind myself that this was not an interruption in my plans, but maybe the most important thing that would happen all day. Together, our team in New York has been trying to follow Jesus’ habit, as John described it, of responding to the moment: “As Jesus went along, he saw…:” (John 9:1). Most of what Jesus did happened as he responded to the moments, to the people, to the need, unplanned, right in front of him. This woman was not an interruption to my plans, but a beautiful creation of God, of unsurpassable worth to her creator. My normal inclination is to look at my watch, thereby communicating impatience and distraction. I wonder sometimes if God didn’t lead me to this city of incredibly dense population so that I couldn’t help but notice people, to see what he sees.

The other thought I had as I reflected later in the day about my time with Diane relates to a project we are considering. We have our eyes on some available retail property just north of where we had talked- up on Lexington and 28th- probably in Diane’s neighborhood. It is what some call a “third space”. First space is where you live, second space is where you work, and third space is where you are when you aren’t at the first two spaces. It’s where you hang out and find community. It is said that New Yorkers sleep in their apartments and live in the city. In my first six months here I have found that to be true. We are imagining this property as a coffee shop or café. We see the regulars dropping by in the morning, or after work. They come with their computers for the free WiFi as they drink their coffee. We know their names and they know ours. We begin to learn about their lives- stories of childhood meningitis and car accidents, and interesting facts about architecture. On some evenings a band plays in the corner of the café, others there is a planned discussion on matters of life and faith. And out of relationships that form, we see the opportunity for Jesus to be present and to be made known. I know Diane would be a regular- along with thousands of others. Makes me think of the line from the theme song for Cheers- we want to go where somebody knows our name.

The people of Manhattan don’t have much interest in church- 97% stay away from church each week. In fact, today my wife Chris had an appointment with a new doctor. When asked why she had moved to New York City, Chris answered that we had come to start a church. The doctor burst into long, almost uncontrollable laughter. No comment, just laughter. Church isn’t on their mind. But they do like coffee. They do like community. And they do, as Diane demonstrated today, like to talk abut their lives. What if, instead of inviting people to come to church, the church came to them, to their environment- no strings attached except the commitment to listen, to learn their name, and to love?