Well, Jesus had my number as he always does.  After an hour in front of the computer spent documenting my complaints for the weekend, I went to the BF’s apartment to resuscitate him from his corporate-induced coma.  We stopped at our favorite little local coffee shop, Dunkin’ Donuts, for him to get enough caffeine into his bloodstream to stay awake through church.  On our way out of the cafe and into a cab, we watched a walker and his dog pass by slowly, the dog slightly hobbling.  I looked closer and saw that the dog had three legs.  “Wow,” the BF said.  “I could never adapt to life like that.”  This from the guy who just worked overnight for fifteen hours straight and still had a smile on his face, said to the girl who complained about the lost weekend to her computer, God, sister, mom, and dad and offered to kill the BF’s coworkers.  On the scale of adaptability, I am hovering between one and zero.  I should clarify that this is a hundred point scale.  I am looking for pencils now.

So we went to church, which I was pushing for especially hard this week because I knew TK was going to talk about the Gospel and work.  Fitting, I thought, considering the weekend we (and by we, I mean the BF) had just experienced.  Or lack of weekend, whatever.  It turned out that God and I had different ideas of what was most fitting for this evening, because when we walked into the service we noticed a bigger crowd than usual and more activity up front.  Then I remembered that it was Open Forum night.

Every few months, Redeemer hosts what they call an Open Forum event.  It’s a program arranged around a theme relevant to life in the city, and is designed to welcome people who may not be comfortable with traditional churchgoing.  After some world-class music (past forums have included New York opera singers and Broadway stars), TK does a brief lecture on the theme (sex, love, the environment have been a few) and there is a period for questions and answers.

Last night’s theme?  New York, New York.  Nine New York-centric songs from movies and Broadway shows, followed by TK’s thoughts on life in the city.

Fitting, God said.

I considered my recent overwhelming frustration with the city and had to agree.

We heard Vernon Drake’s “Autumn in New York,” and the lines:

I’ll dispose of my rose-colored chattels

And prepare for my share of adventures and battles

Here on the twenty-seventh floor

Looking down on the city I hate and adore

The music ended with a rendition of “New York, New York.”  If that and TK’s message can’t revive a city-weary spirit, I don’t know what can.

He talked about how the city is incredibly wonderful and awfully terrible at the same time because it is a magnifying glass of the best and worst in human behavior.  He talked about the diversity of the city and how it makes you think out everything you’ve ever done, every belief you’ve ever had–because even if you arrive at the same conclusions about life that you had when you came here, you better be ready to defend them because people here ASK.  He paraphrased Woody Allen and said that New Yorkers are like everyone else, just much much much more so.  And he talked about how God loves cities, especially New York city, because every square mile here is more packed with human beings than anywhere else in the country.  And for some reason, God loves human beings.  He talked about our city and tied it to our faith in ways that we all needed to hear, and we all laughed and nodded and as I looked around, I saw my community.  The other people who are here in this crazy place and get it.

Once again, someone knows what I need more than I do.  New York made new once again, by the one who makes all things new.