Complicated.

Part 1 in a series on the challenges of doing church post-Covid.

Is it just me, or has church gotten complicated? And by complicated, I mean that many seem more ambivalent than ever with the modern iteration of church these days. And I am one of them.

Is church more about ancient liturgies and enduring rituals or about rocking bands and raised hands? Is it more about pot-luck dinners with friends and neighbors or about feeding the homeless and defending the immigrant? Is it about serving the suburbs or the inner city? Is it about getting more people into heaven or about getting more heaven into earth? Is it about inspiring teaching or personal transformation? Or is it just about creating more options, styles, and denominations so that we can all find our own personal comfort zone?

There is honestly nothing in my heart but compassion for the professional ministers I know. I truly “feel with” the challenges of carrying forward Jesus’ vision for building the kind of church (the ekklesia, the “called out ones”) that can champion redemption in the world and not be overcome by evil (Matt 16:18). It is a task that feels both intimately accessible and ridiculously impossible.

If you’re a pastor, I suspect that it’s gotten harder to connect with people, harder to convey why church still matters, and harder to appeal to the unchurched since Covid. And if you’re a Christ-follower for whom church has always been central and unquestioned, it seems that we are now finally (and perhaps rightfully) questioning it. Or at least questioning the version of church we have been accustomed to.

There are no perfect churches. We know that. And there are no perfect Christians. Church is, and always will be, a messy business. An exceptionally human way of connecting with the divine.

I believe that the idea of church (the spiritual reality of the Body of Christ) is absolutely timeless; there will never come a time when we don’t yearn for and truly need spiritual community in order to be our best selves. In order to grow and prosper in our souls. And at the same time, I sense that the structures for “doing church” are meant to be in constant evolution in order to connect with a constantly evolving world, not to mention a constantly evolving faith.

So what is church supposed to look like these days? I wish I had a better answer because when I try to articulate it, I find myself stumbling and stuttering like Elmer Fudd. I think we have an intuitive sense for what spiritual community can be, but these days I’m finding that experience more often outside the formal gatherings we usually call church. Life conversations over a picnic dinner for example. Or at a winery (I think Jesus would approve). Or on a worshipful trail hike with other seekers. And yet I feel some guilt and confusion, grief even, because this isn’t happening for me inside “church” any more. So rather than just doing my duty and shutting down my heart, I’m taking a break. For the summer at least, we are not going to church.

There, I’ve said it. I’m now one of “those Christians.” I was trained that church-going was the litmus test for whether or not you’re a good Christian. Even now, if I’m honest (and I’d like to think that all my posts are pretty darn honest), I feel some anxiety that a few of you might say, Well, there you go. I knew something was a little off with that Jerome guy. “Taking a break from church,” huh?

And maybe that’s not the right choice for you. Maybe you’re supremely happy with your church; I hope so. I’m not trying to influence anyone, I’m just trying to name what’s going on in the hearts of many folks I talk with. Can that be a curious conversation without being a threatening conversation? I wonder.

Sometimes, when you’re not sure which direction to go, the safest move is to stay on your last course until you see a better alternative. But there’s a danger too, and it’s the danger that we simply ignore the questions we don’t know how to answer… and stop trying to find answers because what’s familiar is more comfortable than what’s unknown.

Ultimately, I wonder if the only way to find the answers we’re looking for is to glean the combined perspectives of those both inside and outside the traditional church. I think of the particular giftings of pastors vs. prophets here—those faithfully serving those who gather inside the walls as well as those faithfully challenging the system from outside the walls. Both utterly committed to loving God and God’s people well.

From an Enneagram perspective, these roles are reflected in Types 1 and 8: Type 1s work to “reform” the institution from the inside while Type 8s work to “challenge” the institution from the outside—or perhaps better said, from the outside of the inside. If you are an authentic seeker of God, you are by definition on the inside. You belong. You are organically part of the mystical church of Christ and can never be otherwise. But you may find yourself outside the organized structure of what we typically call church. Apparently, as I am at the moment.

I wish I could have sat down with Jesus and asked him more about what he meant with his cryptic statement that “I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it”… and then go on to only use the word church in one other sentence ever. It took the apostles to carve out the first structural idea of church. Did they build what Jesus envisioned? I’d like to think so... but I don’t think Jesus ever saw himself as anything other than a Jew, institutionally speaking. What’s certain is that he was calling people out of dead institutionalism and into a transformational community, which the “church” of his day has ceased to be.

The apostles built some great stuff, but it didn’t take many generations before the structure, culture, and theology of that church was hijacked by political power systems, beginning with Constantine in 312. And that dynamic has overshadowed us ever since. Even today, there seem to be far too many political overtones woven into this thing that Jesus said he would build.

I suppose the tension and struggle is a good one. I hope that it helps us keep reimagining and reconstructing what we call church. That we never give up on the ideals of belonging, encouragement, equipping, and kind-hearted challenge that lie at the core of spiritual community. And that, whether we meet in buildings or parks, in neighborhoods or online, we will know that we are connected across all divisions of time, space, and theology. And that we are acting justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God (Micah 6:8).

growing the soul

Reflect for a moment, as honestly as you can, on how you are experiencing the church these days, both the formal church and the informal church. What’s your greatest desire for spiritual community… and how can you be part of helping create that?

serving the world

What does the world at large most need from those who bear the name Christian? How might we redeem our legacy of cultural oppression and reclaim our legacy of spiritual freedom?

takeaway

How can we be and do church better?