Churched Off

“While I love the traditional church, I love it like a foundational part of my past, as though it were a University I’ve graduated from to join a much larger church those still in the University program are quite suspicious of.”

-Author Donald Miller

            It’s getting chic to kiss off the local church, as though investing yourself in a community of believers is passé or, at least, incapable of meeting your deepest needs.

When someone as popular as Donald Miller unapologetically describes traditional congregational life as something to graduate from, that’s a green light to find the exit. And many do – “millennials”, especially, are jumping ship in high numbers from their churches of origin in concert with leaders who, by example and speech, clearly see the local Body as more of an option than a necessity. (Rob Bell, for example, former pastor of the Mars Hill megachurch and well known author, now describes the spiritual benefits of surfing in more glowing terms than church membership, which he views as optional.)

But is it? And, while we’re asking, might we also not ask whether the complaints we’re hearing about the church – too judgmental; too many hypocrites; too rigid – are valid and, even if they are, do they warrant a churchless life?

Before diving in, I’ll be the first to admit I get as churched-off as anyone else. (Yeah, “churched-off” is my saying, plagiarists beware, I’m no longer nice about stolen ideas) There have been few experiences in my life as wounding as the abuse, betrayal, carelessness or callousness of fellow believers, both in leadership and laity. I’ll bet the farm you could say the same, and we could swap horror stories about ‘darned Christians’ for hours. So yes, there’s room for reflection, repentance, and reform. Plenty of room, no doubt.

Yet forsaking the assembling of ourselves together is not only Biblically prohibited (Hebrews 10:25) but also shows a foundational misunderstanding of who and what we are. As members of the same body, our mutual need outweighs any personal distaste we may occasionally have for each other. More to the point, we belong to a church, where we know and are known, to live out the reality that we are Christ’s Body, a literal organism we exist within rather than a group we attend at our convenience. We don’t join or attend the local church to become members of a body; we do so because we already are. As such, we’ve a need to operate like body parts: in cooperative function, mutual nurturing, healing and correction, all undergirded with practical Agape love as the Head commands.

Blogger Geoff Surratt points this out well when he writes: “I believe the local church is a family. Sometimes when the family gets together it is very fulfilling and fun, other times it is boring and feels like a waste of time. But I don’t attend family meetings because I enjoy them or gain from them; I attend because I am a part of the family.”

Viewed that way, abandoning fellowship because of problems within the church makes no more sense than abandoning meals because we’ve had bad experience with impure foods. The answer is healthier eating, not starvation, and the answer to bad experiences within the Body of Christ is healthier interaction, not withdrawal from the very thing we largely, though not exclusively, draw life from.

Of course a change in local church can be needed for countless reasons; no problem there. (Although I really wish some people wouldn’t church jump so often, as their lives would probably be a lot stabler if they’d grow some roots.) Still, nothing dictates lifelong membership in the same congregation. But scripture does dictate participation with the Body, a participation we usually love; sometimes loathe.

So what’s new? Has the Church throughout history ever been free from offense? Which leads to the question of whether complaints about the modern church, even if warranted, thereby also warrant dismissal of the local church concept altogether.

I’ve really tried putting myself in the place of those who’ve decided to align themselves with the general unseen universal Church,  as opposed to any tangible, specific group. “I belong to the Broader Body of Christ”, they say, explaining why they don’t attend anywhere. “I don’t need a membership card for that.” Got it, and agreed. We’re all part of the large body of believers, most of whom we’ll never see in this life. But we’re also located amongst believers with whom we have a Biblically defined need to interact, and the excuses given for avoiding that interaction just don’t cut it.

From its inception, Christianity’s contained people who gossip, judge, lie, power play, sweet talk, exude phony spirituality, insult without cause, and hurt others without remorse. Good night, I can’t remember a church I’ve belonged to or even heard of which didn’t have those problems! Why, then, are today’s believers so different, so unable to tolerate what Christians have always dealt with and accepted as part of life in this fallen world in general, this imperfect church in particular?

Could it be that the shortened attention span we hear so much about,  and the limited aptitude for disciplines like reading and concentration, are also showing themselves in low tolerance for the inevitable frustrations human relationships bring? And could that low tolerance for the ugly but unavoidable side of intimacy play into this new trend away from commitment to a local congregation?

As a laymen to all things sociological, my guess is yes. I don’t think today’s congregations essentially differ from those of the Early Church, which was bulging with saved sinners yet fully operational as described in the Book of Acts. They clung together, gifts and warts on full display, priorities intact, love abounding, Holy Ghost power manifest.

Is it really too much to ask that we stick together as they did, struggle together as they did, grow together as they did?

I don’t think the question’s a tough one.