What aquacise teaches me about church

Sometimes I learn about faith and the church in the oddest places.  Several times each week I attend a water aerobics, or aquacise, class.  I have always loved swimming so this form of exercise never feels like “I have to” but instead like “I get to” work out.

Lately as I engage in “deep water runs” or endless rounds of “water crunches, it occurs to me that my fellow classmates form a community much like the best aspects of a congregation.

There is great diversity in the aquacize participants. We come to class, all of us – the lame and that biblical description, the “halt” (defined in my dictionary as “one who limps”), the old and the young, men and women of every size and description.  Some people walk briskly from the locker room to the pool; for others, it is more challenging.

  • One woman rolls to the water’s edge in a wheelchair, her bright pink hair and cheery smile drawing attention away from her legs that struggle to support her and which barely move enough to allow her to get to the stairs into the water.
  • There is a man who calls himself “One-legged Dave,” who arrives promptly each morning. “I lost the leg below the knee to cancer, but that’s all that sucker got – the rest of me is still here!” He sits on a bench to remove his prosthetic leg with the molded plastic foot and replaces it with a rubber flipper. “I’ll be the fastest one in class – the only problem is, I’ll go in circles!”
  • An older woman wears thick black gloves in the water. I thought this was very odd until someone explained that she had been in a serious car accident. She was severely burned, leaving her skin sensitive to the pool chemicals.

I am in awe of the courage on display here. It would be easier for each one of them to stay home. They choose to come because they find something there that nourishes their spirits. I hope the same can be said for the church.

When this unlikely collection of people is brought together on land, one can hardly imagine that they could ever comprise an exercise group.  But then – they enter the water.

In that moment, they are transformed. All the differences and physical challenges disappear in the water.  Water, it turns out, is a great equalizer.  Suddenly everyone is the same height; all we can see of one another is our heads bobbing out of the water.  Creaky knees relax as they are lifted by the forgiving buoyancy, aching muscles ease as they are massaged by the gentle warmth that surrounds us.  People who can barely walk on land suddenly experience the freedom of graceful movement in the water.

The pool provides a release that we share with joy.  In my mind’s eye, I imagine the Holy Spirit moving in and through our class, anointing each of these individuals and binding us together as a group.

I hope people experience that kind of delight when they come to church. I hope the sanctuary is a place where all kinds of people can come together and experience renewed hope and welcome. People who are weighed down by challenges in life and those who are confronted with numerous limitations in other venues can hear the Good News – you belong here. The problems that we carry with us may not be forgotten but they will not be allowed to define us.

The pool –and the church – can be a place of encouragement where members are invited to stretch their wings and find a new definition for themselves.

Everyone, of course, has a story to tell and a reason why they show up for an 8:15 a.m. aquacise class. Some people arrive yearning for some serious exercise and look forward to the workout. Others clearly come primarily for fellowship, barely pausing in their conversations to listen to our enthusiastic instructor, who guides and encourages us with great patience and creativity.

People come to worship for lots of different reasons, as well. I hope the church makes them feel as welcome as the pool does. Church can be – should be – that place where all of God’s people are on equal footing, where all of us are enveloped by the loving grace of God’s Holy Spirit.  Church can be – should be – a place where we discover new possibilities, where we are told not what we can’t do, but instead are encouraged to be amazed by what God can do in and through us.

If you see me in class, you might think I am only trying to increase my core muscle strength, but in reality, I am learning again about how God teaches me about grace and welcome and the church in very surprising places.

 

9 thoughts on “What aquacise teaches me about church

  1. Jill

    Again, brilliant! I think this may be your best analogy yet – clear, clean, comforting warm water surrounding and supporting us in the pool, lifting us whatever our size and making us feel freer, lighter, and capable of effortless movements is what being in your congregation is like! Thanks Pastor Sue.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Carol Crump Bryner

    You have such a graceful way of making your church and your faith accessible to everyone, even those of us who really don’t go to church anymore. Finding community in places like the swimming pool, a yoga class, and even sitting and chatting with people you’ve never met before at a bar or coffee shop is such an everyday gift. I love how you call water the great equalizer. Lovely post, Sue.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. fosteringyourfaith

      Thank you, Carol! I’m always fascinated by the many places people can find community – I think it’s especially important in these “plugged-in” days we are living in.

      Like

  3. This means so much to me this morning as I spend my last two days in rehab for total knee replacement. I am a swimmer and for more than a decade a daily 5 AM pool-goer. I will return hoping to add a aquasize class and now with it re-shaped in my mind and my heart by your words.

    Like

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