my church’s easter light show!

First of all, I celebrated Easter alone.

That’s because my wife took Elias to see her family in Wisconsin. And look what I missed.

Gosh, I love this kid: he’s such a light for me. I’m very thankful that God put him in my life.

Speaking of Easter and “light,” yesterday’s worship service at Cross Point Church was extraordinary.

To be honest, I was a little nervous about going.

That’s because a few days earlier, Pete (he’s the pastor) had warned me about that morning’s scheduled “light show.” Laughing, he said, “MPT, you are going to LOVE the light show.”

He was being sarcastic.

Now, for those of you who don’t know, his little attempt at “humor” was in reference to something that I wrote about in my book Churched–the part where I described my church’s light show as being one big “joygasm.” It’s funny. Since then, my opinion of Cross Point’s “lights” has become a bit of an inside joke among the church staff. But quite honestly, Cross Point’s weekly “Technicolor Light-Spectacular” has been tamed down in recent months, seemingly taking on a “less is more” quality that for the most part works quite nicely.

But that wasn’t the case yesterday.

It was Easter Sunday–you know, God’s BIG wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am GRAND finale, and well, Cross Point’s light show was, uh…

BIG. No, it was BIG!!!

While watching the service’s opening number–OK, it was a scripture reading, but this scripture reading was “produced,” which made it worthy of being called a “number”–I sort of felt like I was in Vegas. I kept looking around to see if Bette Midler or perhaps Barry Manilow or even a few showgirls were going to drop out of the ceiling wearing glow-in-the-dark angel wings.

Or maybe Jesus all aglow in sequin–you know, like a southern gospel singer.

Two minutes into the church’s opener, the guy sitting next to me leaned over and said, “This is SOOOO Nashville! I LOVE IT.”

I smiled.

He and I had just met a few moments before. He was a firsttime visitor at Cross Point, and has, for a long time, been looking for a church home. (More about him in a bit.)

But you know what? I must say: the production worked! Maybe I’ve become a softy during my time at Cross Point or perhaps my perspective is far too influenced by the fact that I LOVE the people on the church staff as well as the volunteers who work so hard each week putting the service together. It’s funny how your opinions shift when you know the hearts of those behind the “production.”

Anyway, yes, the production worked. A couple of times, I admit it even made tears form in my eyes. No, actually, I almost wept.

But that’s because, at yesterday’s service, despite my church’s display of Galgotha with a bit more glitz and glamour than I would prefer, the production never overpowered the story. It didn’t lose its focus. I mean, good production, even in a church setting, is a fantastic asset as long as the production isn’t about the “production” and remains a simple (or not-so simple) manner in which to tell the story.

And Cross Point nailed it. (No, pun intended, I promise.) The production told the Gospel story. And they even invited the people in attendance to engage the gospel story. It was a powerful and worshipful time.

But next year, Cross Point, see if you can get Bette to attend!

And then came Pete’s message, a sermon he called “The Anatomy of Hope.”

It was beautiful. Hopeful. Passionate. Creative. Inclusive. My favorite quote that he said went something like this… “During Easter we talk a lot about Friday, the night Jesus died. And then we talk a lot about Sunday’s resurrection. But we rarely mention or even consider Saturday. Saturday is the hard day. The ‘waiting’ day. The day when you feel like giving up. Most of us, in our own lives, are living in the Saturday. But I believe that God does his best work on Saturdays, while we’re waiting, praying, and hoping for a Sunday.”

I got to church early yesterday morning, and when I sat down in my pew, I was like 1 of 10 people sitting in the auditorium. A few moments later, the firsttime visitor I mentioned earlier sat down next to me. We didn’t know each other, but we struck up a conversation because he recognized me. Not because I am an author, but because he’d seen me sitting toward the front at an Augusten Burroughs speech at Vanderbilt just a few days before.

Since we were both early, I had the pleasure of hearing his story. And while it’s not my story to share, let me just say this: he’d been beaten up by a lot of Christians and a lot of churches because he didn’t fit their mold.

“It’s been difficult believing that I have a place in a church,” he said. “But I had to come to church on Easter–I had to. So I decided to try here.”

A few minutes later he asked, “Do you think somebody like me would feel welcomed here?”

“Yes,” I said. “Out of any church I’ve ever been to, one thing I know about Cross Point is that it loves people. We don’t believe that you have to fit into a particular mold to engage the story of God.”

It felt so good being able to say that and mean it. Because I believe it’s true–anybody, no matter what their backstory is should never feel like they don’t belong.

Several times during Pete’s message, I noticed the man wipe tears away from his eyes.

As we were leaving, my new friend looked at me and said, “This seems like a very loving church. I’ll be coming back.”

That’s what the resurrection story is all about, an open invitation for people to come and be a part of the greatest story ever told, a story that far too often “The Church” uses to shut people out, a story that, if given the chance, will shine light on the darkness that has settled into so many churches.

And if that doesn’t work, God could always use Cross Point’s light show. It might work, as long as he doesn’t mind the colors pink and torquoise.

(Much gratitude to Pete and the entire Cross Point staff for creating a worship environment that is welcoming and hopeful for people who don’t fit the “evangelical” mold. I for one am grateful.)

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