Consumer North American society has made its way to churches for many decades now. If something displeases a person at the church they attend, there are many other options. Perhaps more so during the era of online church, accelerated by the Covid-19 pandemic, people have a plethora of choices. Those choices include worship times streamed from other cities and other parts of the world. Of course, for more and more people the concept of church or church membership has become completely irrelevant.
As stated in the earlier posts in this series, my weekends have always been punctuated with church attendance once or twice on a Sunday. For me, church is still relevant. Perhaps a definition of church would be helpful. Church for me is much more than a physical space but the experience of connection with other people who also love Jesus as we meet together to worship, learn together, pray and encourage one another. The very first churches or ecclesia met in homes, beside rivers, or in rented space. They were not visible landmarks, but they were instrumental in bringing hope and wholeness to the community in which they were planted.
When my husband and I met, we each belonged to a different church. Since they were both in the same town, we alternated attending each church together. Eventually, as we became engaged and married, we felt it important to choose one and become more fully invested in its ministry. Did I neglect to mention that all the people in these two churches had once been members of the same larger group? A heated issue had led them to split. How would we decide? My husband framed the question in this way: "Which group of sinners will we decide to worship with?" This was not about finding the best or the perfect church. In the end we opted for my husband's church, as he had the deepest roots in that community of faith.
About eight years later, we did move away from the town where we first met. Our first Sunday we landed in a church of the same denomination we were affiliated with, with the intention of just "trying it out." On that Sunday morning, there was a guest pastor. I don't remember what the theme of his message was, but I know it was based on the Bible. I don't remember if it was organ or piano music, but I know we sang hymns and spiritual songs. I don't remember if we were greeted at the door, but I remember two distinct conversations after the service. When we got home, we agreed: "The Holy Spirit is in this church. We don't have to look any further."
That was eighteen years ago. Did we find the perfect church? No, we found a group of sinners to worship with. They put up with our shortcomings, as we try to contribute the gifts and talents God has given us. We work together to make things happen that none of us could do on our own, like helping to resettle individuals and families who were once refugees. We forgive those who have said something hurtful to or about us, even when it's hard. We listen to the Word of God together and seek to live it out. We ask about each other's needs. We bring meals to each other when we're going through a rough patch. We know we're not alone.
Another heated issue has arisen at church. Members might look at each other and wonder, "Which side are you on?" I remind myself that this church is a group of people I've been connected to for more than a decade. We all have a story that has intersected with the grace of Jesus Christ. I'm committed to keep listening to those stories and to an ongoing journey with these folks. It won't be easy. It won't be perfect. But I'm counting on the Holy Spirit to guide us all.
