Lessons from the Fishin” Hole

by Marcus Bigelow

Last night I stopped at The Fishin” Hole in Greenville, Missouri. Greenville is a long way from most everywhere. I was looking for a friend who supposedly was eating there. I was to join him for dinner. He wasn”t there, but I decided to eat anyway, following the maxim that a full parking lot usually indicates good food.

This Yankee boy walked in to find the “friendliest place in town.” Almost every table was filled. The waitresses were at a dead run. “Take any ol” table,” the cashier told me, so I sat down at one of the three empty tables and waited.

On my right were Wayne and a party of 12. I knew he was Wayne because everyone who came through the door shouted, “Hi, Wayne.” His wife, Zelda, laughed and joked with everyone, as well.

As I sat and watched, another couple came in; the wife probably had multiple sclerosis or some other problem that affected her walking. The husband was a man I”d like to meet. He was gentle and considerate and proud of his wife. He treated her with care, dignity, and joy. I thought about going over, but every time I got up the courage, someone else came in and they would laugh and visit and joke.

My aloneness soon got to me, so I went out to the car and got my notes for the evening”s lecture. I studied them carefully so it would look like I had something to do while I waited for my food. It”s intimidating to be the only one in the room with no one to talk to.

 

ALONE . . . AND DIFFERENT

As I looked around the room, I realized I was the only male who wasn”t attired in flannel or camouflage. I was one of the few who wasn”t wearing lace-up boots. I certainly didn”t have the proper uniform for the restaurant, and everyone could tell I wasn”t from Greenville.

I asked the waitress about the restaurant”s specialty, and she said, “Frog legs or fish.” When the fish was delivered it was fried beyond recognition. They also served fried cannonballs called hush puppies. It was all very strange to a northerner. I actually tried the frog legs 24 hours later. They said it was like chicken, but I thought it tasted more like a cross between spotted owl and bald eagle.

The dinner actually was pretty good, though I did pass on the deep-fried side salad.

When I stepped to the counter to pay with my credit card, the cashier said, “Oh, we only take cash.” With a lump in my throat I rummaged through my wallet and finally found the extra $20 I keep there. Whew!

As I walked out, Wayne was still greeting people in “the friendliest place in town,” but the only ones who had talked to me were the people paid to do so.

It was a good experience to visit, but if I lived in Greenville, I”d have to build a restaurant, because it would be years before I fit in at this one.

 

NORMAL . . . AND NOT SO NORMAL

I”ve thought quite a bit about The Fishin” Hole and how my experience there relates to our churches, and I”ve come to two conclusions.

First, what we think is normal often isn”t normal for the unchurched.

Some months ago while in a study group of Christian pastors, we were assigned to go to a famous bar in Dallas and observe. Talk about fish out of water! We huddled at a table nursing our sodas; I don”t think one of us could have ordered a drink if we”d wanted to. It made me realize how awkward some people feel when they come to church for the first time, or after a long absence.

What we think is normal””very casual dress and heavily contemporary music””while comfortable for some, makes others (especially former Catholics) very uncomfortable. For others, organ music and suits and ties make them uncomfortable. Leaving your children in the nursery, Communion services, and baptisms also can seem strange to the uninitiated.

It”s not that we won”t do these things, it”s just that we need to make sure we explain things clearly that we often take for granted. (My heart was pounding when I thought I couldn”t pay for dinner””I envisioned three years of washing dishes.)

The second lesson is we need all kinds of churches for all kinds of people. The Fishin” Hole is culturally relevant to Greenville, Missouri, but a new freeway is coming through town in the next year. Other restaurants will be needed for the people who move there.

ALL THINGS . . . FOR SOME

I left Greenville to go to Sun City West. The church has no children”s facilities (no one under 55 is permitted to live in town), the men all wore ties and jackets, and the women wore dresses. The church is doing a great job of reaching its community. The congregation has figured out Sun City West, but they readily admit that other churches must be planted to serve their grandchildren.

The apostle Paul said, “I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some” (1 Corinthians 9:22).

Someday in Heaven, we will all worship together, and no one will complain the music is too loud, repetitious, boring, old, contemporary, or anything else. Until then, we need to plant all kinds of churches and help those “outsiders” feel at home.

 

 

 

Marcus Bigelow serves as president of Stadia: New Church Strategies in Irvine, California. He has been involved in church planting for 25 years.