They sit in a circle in the corner of the coffee shop, chairs close enough so they can listen intently to one another. I don’t have to hear their conversation to know they’re not discussing business as most men do at this shop. No, these men are in casual attire, two of them older and two younger. No laptops, no binders.

Instinctively, I know what they’re doing, and I wonder how this meeting benefits each of them. I wonder what their agenda is.

I see one reading aloud, followed by another. Then I see it. One of the older men is reading from the Bible.

I can’t help but wonder the matter of discussion. Theology? Accountability? Behavior management? Intimacy with God? Mentorship?

I discover that I’m a little repulsed. I suppose it’s because I’ve sat in many circles at many coffee shops and had, no doubt, similar discussions.

I know what it’s like to stay in the Christian bubble, protecting myself from “the world.” I know what it’s like to feel safe, to believe I’m making a difference by burying my head in a Bible study workbook, to think those small-group meetings actually build intimate relationships.

Since leaving church, though, I’ve found what it means to live. By stepping outside the bubble, I’ve had the privilege of meeting people I’d always been told to avoid because they might influence me in a way that didn’t align with my Stepford-style religion. These folks aren’t interested in Bible study groups or accountability or mentorship, yet I’ve had beautiful discussions with them that have expanded my love.

And isn’t love at the heart of what Jesus lived and taught? If it’s true that perfect love casts out fear, why are most Christians playing it safe inside their circles, excluding anyone with a different belief or lifestyle?

I think, perhaps, if Jesus were in the coffee shop, he might sit in the circle long enough to tell those men to get up and go live, to embrace those who are different from themselves, to engage the difficult questions, and to love beyond the boundaries they’ve created with their religion.

I imagine Jesus might tell us all that perfect love is messy and hard and totally worth it! And I think he’d tell us that perfect love doesn’t exist in our tidy, exclusive, mask-filled meetings.