Do We Really Need Church To Be A Christian?
Is church important? Do you “have to have” a church home? Does home church count? Can you walk away from the church and still be a believer?
If you’ve ever used Google, you have experienced this fact: you gotta ask the right question. And none of those above, initial questions regarding church, will take you to a life-giving answer.
Ask a more beautiful question, get a more beautiful answer.
What does the Bible say about church? What is implicitly taught and what is explicitly taught? What does a healthy church look like? Why not be an integral part of a healthy local church?
And perhaps the most beautifully revealing question of all: What kind of person commits to the life of one local church, and what kind of person can drift, walk away, “take it or leave it”?
Let me ask some similar questions: what kind of person rents their home? What kind of person owns their home? What kind of person is homeless?
Whether or not I am a renter, a vested home owner, or homeless says far more about who I am, and what I value, than how valuable homes are. By the same line of reasoning, whether or not I am invested, taking ownership in the life of one local church, or I am low-key “renting” a church (because I may not stick and stay), or whether I commit to no church at all says far more about who I am, and what I value, than it says about the worth and value of the church.
(I must say, right here and right now, that I know a few friends who rent because they are uncommitted to their city, uncommitted to their job, even uncommitted to commitment. They do not foresee themselves as getting married. There, the metaphor holds up. BUT. On the other hand, many (many) of my friends are “renters”. They rent their family home. But they would love to own a home. They do not rent because they are “uncommitted to the idea of a home.” You see, that is where the metaphor breaks down, as all metaphors must do. So take the metaphor as far as it will legitimately apply, and then leave it be. We are allowed to do that!)
The Preacher and I have lived in one home for almost 30 years. We have been part of one local church for almost 30 years. If this reveals anything, it reveals that we moved forward by staying put.
We grew by being rooted.
In the decades we have lived here, we spent 1/3 of it renting, and 2/3 of it with our names on the mortgage. Of one house. The same house. So we have a solid baseline of comparison.
If I may say so plainly, having our names on the mortgage is more work. More risk. It requires more from us. It is also more rewarding. There are endless ways to express our love for home.
The only time I lose interest in improving the ordinary life of my surroundings is when I am sick or depressed.
In much the same way, ownership in the life of one local church will draw a creative expression out of you that simply isn’t present if you church hop. It cannot even find an expression if you have no church. It can get weird and self-serving and too comfortable if home is church. (Not always. But let’s be real…is there truly, actually no church anywhere, where you could connect, grow, and serve? Not even one? Or did you leave the last good church offended?)
And, diagnostically speaking, the only way you lose interest in (even an exceedingly ordinary) church - is when something fundamental and artistic and creative is missing inside you.
When you are not well in your own soul.
The rhythm of the life of one local church may not seem like it is doing such a great work in my soul.
Until I look back over many years of continuity.
Then, I suddenly understand: day by day, week by week, year by year, and then by decade, I have laid hold on the best things in the entire universe (the apostle Paul called it, “the glorious riches of your inheritance in the saints”) and pulled them into my practice of life.
I have been the recipient of all the treasures of heaven. Eternal reward!
Just by sticking and staying.
Now. Please scroll back up and read those first questions again. I hope you can see so clearly that…
…those aren’t the life-giving questions. Can I ask you two more?
How shall we then live? What kind of spiritual life can give you both creativity and the measurable constraint necessary for creativity to flourish?
