I like God, not necessarily the church

When I posted my comment on Facebook, there wasn’t space for me to detail how I came to that moment in church of suddenly looking around as if I were a complete newcomer.

I did a lot of acting in church productions between the ages of 8 and 16, but I gave it up in high school to focus on my studies; I came back to it in 2002, but in community theatre, rather than church productions. That put me in contact with a lot of unchurched people — most of whom had been turned off from the church and Christianity by what I call “Bible beaters”: people who seem to use the Bible as a weapon to try beat other people into submission. (Whatever happened to “loving them into the kingdom”?)

Some of these unchurched people were better friends to me than most “Christians” I’d known. That didn’t make me doubt my own faith — but it certainly made me start to question church. First of all, what did it say about “Christians” if I met with more acceptance outside church than in it? And second, if I wanted to bring one of my unchurched friends to church … what kind of church would that have to be?

The pastor of the church I was attending at the time often condemned specific sins in his sermons. I’m not arguing that particular things aren’t sins — but how could I possibly bring certain of my friends to church if that condemnation is what they’d be met with?

So I found another church that proclaimed itself to be a church for the unchurched; the pastor even used the “Island of Misfit Toys” as an example in one of his December sermons.

But after a while, I began to feel like a misfit among misfits. There seemed to be certain types of people who were embraced and encouraged … and the rest of us were left to fend for ourselves. When my mother was in the hospital for three days — and I rarely left her side except to go home and catch a few hours of sleep — two or three people from her church visited, and they sent her a poinsettia (since her surgery was close to Christmas). No one from my church ever bothered to visit … and I certainly could have used the encouragement and support, as being suddenly thrust into the role of caretaker was very stressful, sometimes bewildering, and even overwhelming for me.

It was about that time that, while sitting in the service one Sunday morning, a still, small voice whispered to me, “Look around. Look at church as if you’ve never been in one before. What do you see?”

I blinked; it was as if someone had suddenly lifted sunglasses away from my eyes, and I was seeing clearly for the first time. I saw a lot of people going through the motions, clapping dutifully along to the music; I saw others with drawn faces, hands jammed in their pockets, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. I listened to a sermon that suddenly sounded formulaic and simplistic. “Just depend on God.” Yeah, but what about our responsibility to each other, to “bear one another’s burdens”? To “rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn”?

I wrote a long letter to the lead pastor, who invited me to sit down with him, as he dealt better with ideas in person than in writing. But before I could get very far in our meeting, he cut off all opportunity for communication by telling me that I was looking for the church to meet my needs, instead of seeking how I could serve the church.

I left that church and tried another one for a while, but it didn’t feel like “home,” either. I eventually went back to the one I had just left … simply for the sake of having someplace to go on Sundays and Wednesdays. And God still used the sermons on occasion to speak confirmation to me of the path He wanted me to take and the decisions He was asking me to make.

But I continued to see the same things I had seen before: People going through the motions. Certain people getting attention and others being left out. Formulaic sermons focused on the individual relationship with God, rather than how we can and need to support each other. I finally reached the point where I couldn’t take it anymore; I started looking for another church home.

But I’m not sure if I’ll ever go through the “membership” process again with a church. For me, “church” is no longer about which roof I worship under. (To be honest, I feel closer to God outdoors than I do in any building.) It’s about “not forsaking the assembling of yourselves together” and finding a place of support and encouragement. The calling that God has placed on my life (that’s a whole other long story) is not an easy one, and though I love it and embrace it with all my heart, I need people around me to help me keep believing when the doubts and fears become fire-breathing dragons at my back.

God has sent such people into my life — but they’re not all members of the same church; they’re not even all in the same country! But they are, in many ways, a better representation of “the church” than just about any formalized church I’ve ever been in.

Hi guys! Thought I would chime in here also and ditto Krista’s comment .
“What are they replacing it with” That is what really concerns me. Mark Denning and I are pretty embroiled in a similar e-conversation at LFC.

I fully subscribe to the concept of intentional communities (Shane Claiborne et al) – to me they represent the Acts 2 church. Total interdependence, pooling all resources, focused on serving the community they are located in, intentional in worship and spiritual development. How this might expand to a large church model is something I can’t seem to envision – but perhaps staying small helps it stay “real”…but like Krista, I have concern that accountability goes out the window when individuals are not connected to some larger body of faith.

Interesting that Mike Andress mentioned Frank Viola in his post – I literally just purchased “From Eternity to Here” today. It is getting pretty good press. I heard of it on this blog by Greg Boyd: http://www.gregboyd.org/blog/from-eternity-to-here/

Sorry that I’ve not gotten back to you sooner. I forgot to subscribe to the comments.
I hear you guys “aren’t trying to push an agenda here”. It’s a dialog. I like (the Germans) have been choosing the opposing point of view in my other discussion to challenge people who are saying things like “I can do church at starbucks with two other people”. The article I sent you reflects this in that it is on what some would consider the extreme opposite end from the “we don’t need the institution idea”. I choose this opposing point of view because I believe that it’s been normative for Christian practice since NT times and because this other view is rising in popularity. Those friends (LFC people who I love and respect) have been saying much of what Courtney articulates above about the church not being an institution with an overemphasis on “being” the church. In this view the concept of local church gathering on the Lord’s day is consider optional at best and unnecessary at worst. Ultimately, I believe it is a false dichotomy. We are the church and the church gathers on Sunday mornings and has since very early times. We are church and we do church (gathering of the called out ones). Of course everyone will assume that because I’m a seminary student and church staff member that I’m biased towards the “institution”.