Church Membership Interview (Raquel)
I would have told myself not to be nervous, but that would have defeated the purpose. It just would have reminded me that I could be nervous. So I put it out of my mind. Almost. I didn’t know what questions they would ask, but I knew it would probably start with a general testimony. I also knew that it would go much better if I had an idea what to say beforehand. I figured out something along the lines of “Yep, I’ve always been a Christian.” Then I put it out of my mind. Pastor Henninger started with a very general question about my spiritual life and history, pretty much opening it up to whatever I wanted to say. For one desperate moment before I latched onto my previous thoughts I looked at him and thought, “Boundaries. I need boundaries.” But the moment passed, and I actually managed to talk. This surprises me a little. I talked. Not effusively by any means, but I answered questions of the type that make any answer feel dumb, because there’s no right answer. There’s just, “What is a week of your life like?” (Do you have any idea how boring and repetitive it would be to detail an entire week of my life?) “What talents do you have you can use to serve the church?” (Yes, I should know the answer to this. I can just see Seth smacking me upside the head for not saying something about writing. But I’m still back at “You mean someone might actually want to read this?” and I don’t automatically think “This is a talent that might be useful.”) The interview must have gone well because I am now a member of Redeemer Presbyterian Church. I take my membership vows next week. Next Sunday for the first time I will stand up to take membership vows without my parents standing beside me. During the interview one thing I mentioned was that I’d never had a membership interview by myself before. Afterwards I discovered that I’d done it. By myself. In a sense it’s only now that I’ve really moved here, now that I have covenantal ties to a church body here. The process of growing up isn’t over yet, but in God’s timing this membership transfer was delayed until this point when I see it clearly as the first big step I take as a grownup. I’m excited about what’s coming next. I can see opportunities ahead, and I know there are more I won’t find until later. But at the same time something’s changing. Or perhaps I am acknowledging a change that already happened. I don’t like changes. This point in my life is a doorway. Soon enough I will find out what’s on the other side. So I stop to take one last look back before I settle my shoulders and reach for the doorknob…
Actually, I read the bit about boundaries and laughed.
Funny, we talked about growing up when you were over here the other day. We didn’t use that term; we talked about learning to know yourself. But that’s part of it, I think.
And, for me, it suddenly strikes me as odd and disturbing and honoring (all rolled into one) that my opinions on growing up seem to matter a lot to you.
This is the point where I think I should have something to say and I don’t know what it is. Yes? No? Fourty-two?
I’ll work on it.
Start by spelling “forty-two” correctly.
Sometimes, there doesn’t need to be anything said.
Well if it isn’t the British spelling, it ought to be. Oh, fine. Forty-two.
I suppose I should admit that the dictionary backed you up on the alternate ending debate too–though I’m still not convinced that was anything more than a concession to everyone who misuses the word.