Cleaning a Nighclub

Internships always have unqiue job descriptions, but I never imagined mine would include the brooming of drink straws, picking up used limes, and mopping up the floors sticky from the previous night that is like many other nights. Club nights. A typical LA club nights in a building with pagan gods carved into the walls with a balcony and so much square footage that you become lost in the maze of doors, stairwells, and foyers.

The Mayan is a gathering for Mosaic at 5:00PM and 7:00PM Sunday evenings. Because the club isn't open Sunday nights, the owners make a profit from the rent of the space from Mosaic. In return, we have a venue in the heart of LA that does more than any decoration or promotional could ever do. It has a flavor, an appeal that has such an influence because of the sheer fact that it's the Mayan. It's a nightclub.

The intern crew for the Mayan arrives at 2:00PM to begin clean up from Saturday night (it saves us money this way). In fact, so many of the interns are passionate about the Mayan. Set up and clean up are so time consuming, but when you have many hands, the task becomes light work. Serving at the Mayan looks starkly different from what typical serving may look like. Strapping on rubber gloves, picking up a broom, and getting a good Sunday afternoon sweat opens your eyes to a new realm of church service. Service, raw and untamed.

It's what I love about serving at the Mayan. It's not ideal. In fact, sometimes it's not comfortable. I'm not saying I face life-threathening monsters in the green rooms in the basement, I'm saying that confortable service is sometimes hard to find when it's nitty gritty.

I was pondering about this idea of "comfortable". We seem to be creatures who crave to be "comfortable". Maybe it's a birth-given thing. Why do we buy the soft couch? The sleek car? Why do we travel to the same place? Why do we hate moving? Why do we love t-shirts? Why do we hate change? Because we just might be a little bit inclined to be comfortable.

The funny thing about service and, heck, life for that matter, is that you can control this comfort level. You can become as comfortable or uncomfortable as you want. It's when you step out of the natural rythem of things and head into a tunnel of uncertainty where you find comfort is gone. Maybe comfort amidst the uncertainy is a direct result of faith. Maybe a declaration of the soul craving for something bigger. And when you seek the heart of a God who as the size thing under control, our comfort levels begin to coincide with his.

For me, uncertain in this stage of my life has taught me a lot. In the end, it shows me that the fear I am holding within me is the very extraordinary thing God has waiting for me. Therefore, comfort shall be a creature, but never my ruler.