The grill is on, and the table is
full
I’ll be honest. I only started tailgating 8 years ago because
my husband wanted to. Don’t get me
wrong. I absolutely love college
football, but in Texas heat in the early fall, I had never considered why in
the world I would possibly want to spend 5 extra hours in the heat rather than
watching the game in my air-conditioned living room.
However, he wanted to,
and I joined in. We bought the food, set
up the tent, and sweated. At first, it
was just the four of us tailgating—Anthony, me, and the boys. Sometimes, it was just the two of us when the
boys were with their dad.
As the years
progressed, however, the tailgating crew grew.
We met people from the neighboring sites. We invited people from our lives to join us.
Sometimes we have only had 2 attend, and sometimes we have had 30 or more. We have sweated---and sometimes frozen—and sometimes
we have even gotten wet and muddy.
What I have recently
realized, though, as sacrilegious as it sounds, is that I have rediscovered the
true meaning of church under that tailgating tent.
Here are some of the
things I’ve learned under that tent:
1. All are welcome under our tent.
Our tailgating crew is made up of staunch Republicans, liberal
Democrats, gun-toting Texans, and those who hate guns. Teetotalers and drinkers, black, white,
Hispanic, old, young, single, divorced, and married all spend time under our
tent. Godfearing churchgoers meet with
those who wouldn’t attend church if they were paid. Those who smoke and those who don’t, those
who curse, and those who wouldn’t dare all find welcome here---a welcome without
judgment.
2. Despite our different backgrounds, we are all part of a human family. Our crew comes from various paths of
life. Some of our crew are co-workers or
former co-workers or children of co-workers.
Some are those in neighboring tents like Brad and Lisa who enjoy the shade for a while and
have become our “autumn” family. Some of
our crew actually are just passersby who come to ask questions about the grill
and then find a welcoming seat. We have
welcomed people we have met on Twitter, those we know through our kids’ school,
and those we know from past life connections.
We have even had our regulars invite people they know and the “autumn”
family grows. Our crew often finds
themselves sitting next to perfect strangers, as people from various walks of
lives share moments under that tent, and yet the conversation continues. Despite the differences, as far as I know, no
single argument has ever arisen, and no one has felt left out or unappreciated.
3. Whether we know each other well or not, we give of what we have to
others. A little over a year ago, a
wind storm came out of nowhere. Jill and
I were the lone lingerers at the site, and the tents went flying. Perfect strangers came and helped us take
down the tents. Then, we, in turn, went
and helped other neighbors. If we have “newbies”
show up nearby, people from various sites come over to help them set up their
brand new tents. If someone nearby
forgets an item, we share with those around us.
We have shared phone chargers, fingernail clippers, trash bags, and of
course, we have shared food. Whatever
any of us have on our table is open to our neighbors.
4. We each contribute our strengths.
Anthony, of course, is the grill master and the extrovert. He shares his food and his plus-sized
personality with literally anyone who walks by.
As the introverted organizer, I buy the food, prepare the lists, and try
to make sure everyone is taken care of. Others
contribute their muscles to take down the tents and chairs. Tammy provides the deviled eggs. Others like Jill and Paul are the conversationalists who can
talk to anyone about anything. We each
seem to find our place to make the tent a welcoming place.
5. What happens under that tent is real. No masks need to be worn. When we are all stinky and sweaty in 100-degree
weather, who needs to pretend to be all “put together”? With out-of-place hair and wet foreheads, our
flaws and dysfunctions are very apparent.
We have laughed, talked, and yes, even cried under that tent. We have shared personal details that would
make some blush. We have talked about
our families, our less-than-wonderful pasts, and our fears about our
children. Yet, I haven’t heard one
single remark that is anything less than loving for the one going through the
difficulty.
6. We don’t get hung up on the little things. If University of Texas is playing Baylor,
we accept jerseys of both colors under our tent. Everyone is welcome. We laugh and tease each other, but in the
end, we know that the school color, the jersey, and the loyalty is not what
matters. Rather than focusing on the
differences, we focus on the similarities.
So, when you see me
next fall writing a Facebook post about surviving the heat of the fall a mere
8 hours before the game, or when you see a picture of all of us bundled up and gathered
around a fire pit, eating chili on a 30-degree morning, you will know why I do
what I do.
Church is not always
held inside a building with stained glass windows. The truths of Jesus can even be found under
pop-up tents. As a churchgoer and
minister for years, I often lost Jesus in the sanctuary. However, I know where you can find that type
of love and acceptance this fall if you’re interested.
Join us under the
tent. The grill is heated up, and the
table is full.
You have a standing
invitation.
