Spinning Our Wheels by Tami Cinquemani

I recently went back to the health club.  I had dropped my membership several years ago when we purchased a treadmill and an assortment of hand weights.  I’m a fairly disciplined individual, so I figured I would save money and work out at home.  So, three times a week I hooked my computer up to the flat screen in front of the treadmill and ran, walked, or climbed my way through an assortment of Hulu offerings.  It took me about two years before I admitted to myself that I was bored silly by my own company and desperately craved a more “social” exercise plan. 

During the past few months I have been introduced to the most current aerobic classes, weight machines, and my very favorite new thing – Zumba!  I tend to enjoy getting my workout taken care of first thing in the morning, so I have also rediscovered the “joys” (tongue firmly in cheek) of spinning. 

At 5:45 am last Monday morning I walked into the spinning studio.  I adjusted my bike, strapped on my gel seat (yes, I am a weanie), dropped in my water bottle and towel, and began pedaling.  This was probably the third spinning class I was taking after my return to the club, and it was an instructor I hadn’t met before.  The music began, and off we went.

The leader was obviously competent and loved her job.  She had a lively style and was clearly engaging with the students . . . well, most of the students.  I’m not sure if I was the only one unfamiliar with this particular instructor, but it became apparent very early on that, had you not take her class before, you were not a part of the group with whom she was engaging.

“Come on!  You know this song!”  “I don’t have to tell you what you’re supposed to do here!”  “It’s the Screamin’ Jimmy!”  I began watching the other students around me and tried desperately to take my cues from them.  When they sat, I sat.  When they rose, I rose.  When they climbed, I climbed, and when they raced, I raced.  When the instructor sang a phrase of a song and the other students parroted a familiar phrase back, I just gave a “Woot!”  I lasted about 35 minutes of the 60-minute class, and I went back down to the treadmill area.

I was frustrated and disappointed.  I was really looking forward to an intense workout.  The leader didn’t need to water down the routine for me.  I was seeking a kick-butt workout.  She just needed to be a bit more inclusive to those unfamiliar with the routine and the culture she had created in her class.

As I drove home that morning, the thought occurred to me that, if we’re not careful, many walking into the doors of our church may have this same experience . . . and this same frustration.  If we’re not intentional in our language, in our leadership, and in our expectations, we can easily alienate those seeking to engage and build community with us by presuming everyone walking through the door has the same cultural church background that we do.

I’m not suggesting we “water down” our message.  I believe people are seeking a bold and dynamic presentation of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and that is a powerful and life-changing reality.  But if what we offer in our church does more to distract and muddy that message, I think we may just be spinning our wheels.

Tami Cinquemani