Little Did I Know. . .

I had no idea last September when Rodger and I met how prophetic my statement would be.

Scene One: (a dusty basement in the heart of Elizabeth)
My first contact with The Portico was in the Charlotte Presbytery’s Weekly Update (which, ironically, I now produce) as a request for good used furniture. I went by to check out the space and introduce myself and although the place was a mess, the potential was evident. First I noticed the black ceiling, was subconsciously counting the 6” fresnels (stage lights) and then marking the probable sight lines for various events in the t-shaped space. You can take the gal out of the theater, but you can’t take the stage manager out of the gal- especially if she’s spent four years of college, two of grad school and several more in community theatre buried in the Prop Shop, snorting raw sawdust (I love that smell!) and hunched over a drafting table or make-up mirror.

As I walked through my first tour, it came to me that this was going to be MY church. Because Portico would meet in the evening, I would be able to continue working, fulfilling interims and preaching for friends on vacation, and have church for ME on Sunday nights. Sure, that might sound selfish, but no one is a bottomless well of inexhaustible spiritual resources. How could I continue to write and plan and preach and listen apart from regular worship that connected to me? (My beginning exposure to emergent church is described in earlier blog entries.)

And Kathy spake unto Rodger, “You know, I would not be surprised if other church professionals will come to Portico to have church for themselves: where they don’t have to worry about leadership and can just come to worship in a safe, relaxed atmosphere. This will be a wonderful place to come rejuvenate.”

And it has come to pass, just not in the way we expected. (That’s never surprising, especially when your group EXPECTS the Holy Spirit to be active in its midst.)

Scene Two: (the front walk of a PC(USA) church on the south side, toward the end of a presbytery meeting.)
I don’t remember exactly who said what first, but that’s the way revelation goes sometimes, so here is my memory of the conversation. Rodger told me he had been greeted at the meeting by another minister saying he’d heard Portico had been having 70, 80, 90 people at worship each week. That has not been the case and Rodger was surprised to hear such. We are very grateful for our humble core of thirty at the moment. Rodger went on to share the news that there were six couples, none of which lived in Charlotte, who send Portico money every month, mostly because they felt themselves being led by the Spirit to do so. Astounding!

I got my update on a couple of people in our extended Portico family, some folks that only Rodger and I have met at conventions, others we know only electronically. There are about thirty folks that fall into that category at this time. Another forty or fifty have shared their emails with us and consider themselves “Friends of Portico.” It amazes us how quickly and decidedly (not by us!) The Portico has become a community of intercession. Then out of the blue, Kathy spake unto Rodger: “But that means we really are involving 60 or more people each Sunday when we gather. The people just aren’t all physically THERE. By praying and giving and encouraging, they are behaving like members!” Rodger: “We really are an internet church!” Kathy: “OK all you folk who like to count things, there’s a number for ya, praise God!”

Oh- and who are these folk? For the most part, pastors and elders who are struggling to be emergent church or are trying to see how it may be done where they are, and they are looking to us to show them how it can be done. Pastors and spouses who have been wounded by Session or Committee or Presbytery and are searching for a way to live as the missional church they envision, and find healing. Who are these folk? Why, they are The Portico.

Entr’acte

Coming attraction: Wrestling with the idea of Membership