Newcomers All of Us

Yesterday, at the monthly Newcomers lunch I met a young woman who had just moved to the area. She had the nervous giddy laugh of someone who isn't quite sure what they had gotten themselves into and that shell shocked look of someone whose clothes are still sitting in the living room in a suitcase and whose coffee maker is in the garage with her toothbrush.

This Newcomers group is something I joined when we first moved here. I was aimlessly wandering around the library one day as I escaped life in the temporary apartment and saw the brochure. I took a huge leap out of my comfort zone to attend a lunch. In the leap I discovered the one great thing about this town. Most people aren't from here...or rather most of the people I know. And because of this, people are quite quick to welcome the new person. Many of the families are corporate transfers who are skilled at making community and setting up a home fast. That is rare for a town this size. Even in Mpls and St. Paul I have heard stories of how entrenched the social circles are--based on which college you attended or which high school you went to. Your family probably still around so there is that added comfort zone. The midwest (and probably everywhere) can be a hard place to break in to existing social circles.

In Fargo, even though I worked in the community before becoming a pastor and did participate in activities outside of the church during the three years we lived there, I developed no friendship outside of colleagues. Not a one.

But I had very close friends nearby so the isolation was easily thawed with a quick trip north or south. But when we moved, I knew isolation would be an issue so I took some risks and actively sought out people.

In hindsight I find it telling that I thought this group would be a good means to meet people verses, say, a church. But church comes with numerous issues for me. And lets be honest churches are rarely as welcoming as they think they are. It is HARD to break into that particular social system--even being a Christian, a Lutheran, a life long member of one church or another, and a pastor. Perhaps it is really just this last title that leads me to seek other avenues for friendship. The pastor baggage can get in the way a bit...in any circle.

While I am thankful for the connections made and the warm welcome I received through the newcomers group, my participation is waning. Over the three and a half years in this town, I have found new connections, real friends, and the newcomer group itself has changed. (The negative part of a town made up of transplants is they are probably going to be re-potted somewhere else sooner or later.) But yesterday, as I drove home from the lunch, I remembered the greatest lesson being a newcomer taught me.

We are all visitors. This flawed and broken world--one that can be so lonely and isolating--is not our home. It helps me to remember as I move around that none of us feel completely comfortable where we are...that everyone I come across is a bit lost, a bit of a newcomer. We are all in need of hospitality and grace, no matter how long we've lived at one address or another...together we live in this foreign land searching and yearning for those moments of the Kingdom to break in, for God to hold us...to be truly, home.