Church Hopping

‘…the Christian community has not been given to us by God for us to be continually taking its temperature. The more thankfully we daily receive what is given to us, the more assuredly and consistently will community increase and grow from day to day as God pleases.’ - Bonhoeffer

In my many years of attending church, I've never been a church hopper -- not even for a few weeks.  I tend to immediately find a church and stick with it.  So these last three weeks have been very strange for my family as we try to find the right "fit."  But even as I write that, I cringe.  Because the very idea that a church must "fit" me grates against my theology of covenant, loyalty, and fidelity.  In fact, the very notion that we can shop around and hand-pick our own church is so utterly American in its consumerist orientation.  So as I church hop, I hear Dietrich Bonhoeffer whispering in my ear, "God hates this wishful dreaming because it makes the dreamer proud and pretentious. Those who dream of this idealized community demand that it be fulfilled by God, by others, and by themselves. They enter the community of Christians with their demands, set up their own law, and judge one another and even God accordingly’ (Life Together 36).  

But my consumerist objections immediately spring to mind:

But I need a place with a great children's program.

I want to enjoy the music.

I can't stand bad preaching.

I want, I want, I want.

The problem, of course, with this mindset (and I know it deep down) is that all such thinking leaves myself at the center.  And this is precisely the problem with the American church today.  We pack out large facilities with people whose primary motivation is to get rather than to give.  We want to be fed (and commonly object, assuming that our protest is unassailable, as we repeat the cliche, "But I'm just not getting fed here.")

As a 31-year-old male who enjoys reading trendy modern fiction, knows precisely what drink to order at every Starbucks, and listens to Ray LaMontagne, you'd think I would enjoy attending a church tailor-made for my demographic.  You know the ones:  the churches with the coffee bars, the ripped blue jeans clad guitarist, the powerpoint slides in which no letters are capitalized, and a congregation of my clones (twenty-thirty-somethings, slightly progressive, and incredibly white).  Two of the three churches we have visited in the last three weeks have been of this ilk.  They like to talk about organic gardens and fairly traded coffee (and I'm a sucker for both).

But something is missing.  These young pucks, in their fervor to re-invent church, have jettisoned prosaic practices like "Sunday School" and "Invocations" and "Scripture Readings."  Those aren't hip.  People get bored reading too much of that old book.  We wouldn't want folks to get confused and think we're a bunch of old fuddy-duddies.  

And everything in me screams, "no!"  Make me stand up out of reverence for the gospel!  Present the sacrament to me with rich words dating back to Thomas Cranmer or earlier!  Don't just say to me, "So here it is.  Come and taste some Jesus if you feel like it."  Let me sing out "A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing" rather than "Jesus, you're the best."

One week we walked down the street to a little Baptist church just one block from our house.  The singing was bad.  The congregation was old.  The preacher was solid, but certainly not slick or cute.  In fact, he wore a tie!  He didn't have lots of funny stories, but he told us in plain language about the love of God for all people.  

You could tell it was the kind of church that had seen its heyday about thirty years ago, but the saints were hanging on and staying faithful and giving it their darndest to reach their impoverished community.  The stained glass windows bear the names of former members who have passed on.  But this small, ragtag group hosts a little English training time for Burmeese refugees.  They greet us warmly, invite our girls to their VBS, and send us home with a cheesy little card.

And I loved it!  I looked over at my wife to see tears welling up.  We have found a church -- a flawed, uncool group of misfits who really want to glorify Jesus.  Nothing glitzy, no cutting-edge technology, no postmodern logo promoting the sermon series.  Just Jesus.

Our search has ended.  No more church hopping for us.  We're diving in and committing.