Sunday III

A Sunday Religion

My mother wears a T-shirt that says “Religion is hanging around the cross, Christianity is getting on it.” For those of us caught in the trap of the Church as a social club, this should be a wake up call. It’s not wrong that we socialize, or even that we go to church on Sunday for that reason. What’s wrong is that we think church on Sunday IS our Christianity.

As a culture, for as far back as our earliest American roots, we’ve looked to the church for moral guidance, for scriptural instruction and for inspiration. We’ve failed to recognize this simple truth. We are the church. We don’t exist just on Sunday, and neither should our faith.

I have no doubt that we would suffer so much less disenchantment with our church if we embraced this thought. I am the church, every day.  You see, the church is the dwelling place of God. If we leave him in the sanctuary on Sunday, then how much effect can He have in our lives on Monday?

By adjusting our concept of the purpose of the church, we take a huge load of expectation off of our pastors and church leadership. Just as a shepherd leads his flock to food and water, and a pastor is one who leads us to the truth. He cannot hand feed us, nor should he be giving us IV fluids. He can lead us to the right place, but we must shoulder the responsibility to do what needs to be done while we are there.

If you find yourself discontented with your church experience, reevaluate your expectations. Take responsibility for learning and growing in your relationship with Christ. So many people are at a loss as to how to develop this relationship – all I know to say is this: take all the best features of all the people in your life and apply them to this person who is with you at all times. Then magnify that person’s goodness a thousand fold. Here is your constant companion who is the embodiment of love. Then talk to Him, consider Him in your choices, be intentional in your thoughts toward Him. All of this develops this relationship. Listen for Him in your heart, in your thoughts, in your circumstances. Revel in the blessing. An attitude of gratitude makes it so much easier to hear Him.

In all this, you will find that you are the living tabernacle, the daily church. When you join other believers in worship, with the unrealistic expectations lifted, your experience may just be all that God intended it to be.

So, how do you feel about your church?

Sunday II

Another week we didn't go to church. I've decided that this will be a good way to journal about this experience. Why might it be such a big deal to me, personally? How does it impact my family?

First of all, you should know this about me. I was raised in church. My mother was saved when I was a baby, my father accepted Christ during my Dedication ceremony. Other than a few times in our lives when my parents weren't active members somewhere, I spent my entire life in this habit. We went Sunday morning and evening, Wednesday evenings, and occasional weekly Bible studies.

We were generally members of Pentecostal churches, some more radical than others. We tended to go where they were teaching-heavy. As a teenager, I sat under a born-again Jewish charismatic bible scholar. As newlyweds, my husband and I sat under an Old Testament scholar.

To say I have been steeped in Bible teaching would be an understatement. I've been basted, broiled, baked, slow-cooked, hard-boiled and steamed in it. Yet here I am. Not in church. It feels strange, as if I am slipping through some crack in the religious landscape, to discover another foreign world.

I am discovering a simple joy in spending my days and nights considering my Lord. Who is He to me? What is He to me? In being relieved of the pressure to conform to some society's concept of the proper Christian, I have been freed to get to know God, my heavenly Father, Jesus, my Savior and joint-heir in the Kingdom, and the Holy Spirit, my constant all-knowing companion.

This is not where I will be quoting scripture to convince myself of my right or wrong. I know them, and that they apply. It is never sufficient to just know any part of God's Word. Without the wisdom to apply it to my life, it is fruitless. So, in this time of not being in church, we are sitting down to the dining room table each Sunday morning to read and discuss Proverbs. If it's wisdom we need, that's a great place to start.

Eventually, I trust that God will lead us to the right place of fellowship with other believers. In the meantime, I'm going to practice this concept of being the church, where ever I am. Perhaps my sons will come to know God in a more personal, un-religiously-cluttered way through this experience. I do not question what God is doing in our lives right now. It is all about walking through the fog, toward his voice, and finding we've been supported by grace all along.

What about you? Church or no church? Why?

Sunday

Did you wonder where I was? I was in the wind, and it was good.

God tells me wonderful things when I move away from what's comfortable, familiar and distracting. Somewhere between home and Grand Isle, He spoke to me.

I am the church. You are the church. It's not a building. I know, I know. We've all heard this. Sometimes, it takes a while to get down on the inside of us.

No wait, there's more. He reminded me that I am the church at home, and in the grocery store, and on the road. I am the dwelling place of the Most High God, no matter where I am. So, unless I had an out of body experience Sunday morning, I didn't actually miss church.

I did miss the fellowship. I missed seeing the friendly faces and soaking up the worship. I didn't miss a great conversation with my husband about how God operates in our lives. I didn't miss taking care of my sick son.

I still struggle with this. I feel like I've done something wrong when I don't go. At the same time, I've never felt more discontented with the modern church than I have in the last couple of years. A big part of that is what is happening in me. A big part of it is what's happening in the church as a whole.

In His way, God was reassuring me that I am still His child, in church or in the wind. He made me think, made me meditate on His Word and made me laugh. That's a pretty good time. What I know, deep down in my heart, is that I don't need religion. I don't need a list of rules to dictate my behavior. I don't need more teaching on prosperity, faith or healing.

What I need, is God. In the morning, at noon, in the evening and in the dead of night. More than I need to see my husband or hear my children's laughter. More than I need to write, to clean or to give someone well-meaning advice. I need the relationship that draws me so close to Him that I smell of Him, take on His mannerisms, speak as though He's in the room.

Church is within me - the observances of worship and learning, they dwell with me every moment of every day. All that I am missing is the fellowship of believers. So, I'll see you in church, but not religiously. I'd rather share a meal and little bit of life with you, and know that God in me was happy to see God in you.

What is church to you?

I Quit Church

Several months ago, I stopped attending church. For people who know me, they find that surprising, even shocking. I've talked to my husband about it, to my parents, to a few close friends. I explored some of the feelings that I had, excuses, if you will, for not being happy, or comfortable.

There always seems to be this yawning divide between the small church and the large church. I grew up in small churches. They seemed stagnant, stuck in a rut of self-absorption, even though I could see that as individuals, members were growing, maturing in their Christian walk. It was good, but never good enough.

Lately, I've only been in large churches. Places where I felt lost in the crowd, unnoticed, unneeded, totally out of place. When I stepped out into any type of ministry, it always felt like a square peg-round hole kind of fit. That kind of functionality in a corporate environment lead to discontent, and eventually to burnout.

In my most recent fellowship, it seemed that the leadership formed a sort of glass bubble. I could see them, perhaps speak to them, but never get close, never form a relationship. Involved as I was in a prayer group, I could see that it was fringe element - recognized by the leadership, but not necessarily important to them.

I wondered if it was my pride that made me discontented, that made me resent not being recognized for my talents, gifts or calling. I have never had to strive for anything - hold fast, yes, work hard at what I was doing, certainly, but never did I have to strive for the things that God had for me. I felt comfortable allowing it to happen, all in God's time. I cannot make something happen if it is not His will, and I would be mortified to put such effort forth, to force an event or position that was not of His plan and purpose. So, I wait, and when a task is before me, I do it. I believe that I am open to his leading, that the Holy Spirit has an open connection with me, and I am prepared for whatever task He may ask of me.

No, I am, I realize, right where I need to be - and yes, forsaking the assembly goes against everything I believe, but right now, my family needs me. And soon, I will find the fellowship that God intends, and I believe that once there, I won't feel that sense of invisibility or uselessness. I will fulfill my destiny, just as I am now, without struggle, without questioning, because I will set my hand to the task before me, and not look back.