About 5 years ago I stopped going to church. This wasn’t the same as when I was 19 and stopped going… at 19 I wanted to avoid His presence (and His people). At 40 something I wanted to soak in His presence but I felt closer to Him getting about my day at home than by being in church.
Why?
Lots of reasons I suppose.
At 40 something we’d been through a grief and stress fraught time in which God’s comfort and presence had been close and deeply deeply cherished to and by me. In that couple of months leading up to stopping going I felt like going to church was stepping into a structure that separated me from that flow instead of drawing me closer. I was also in something like a state of fright I suppose… needing to figure some things out afresh but not even quite sure what. My head was a muddle but I knew He was close to me when I woke and when I got up and when I hung the washing and when I dropped off the kids and when I cried on the way home and when I read His Word and when I went to bed at night.
So I stopped.
I knew it wasn’t forever, was not sure for how long, spent time thinking and offering my confusion and questions to my Father and after a couple of months I went back.
In the months I was absent I read some Frank Viola materials (who along with favourite author Adrian Plass who has a book called “Clearing Away the Rubbish” – Frank Viola also clears away the rubbish of structure) and also a book I fell over called “So you don’t want to go to Church anymore”. Frank has great things to say and the other book had some points which resonated but also aggravated in their thinness.
Despite their valid points I went back to church.
Lots of reasons I suppose.
Firstly knowing that church isn’t just about what I get. Its about what I give. And that doesn’t mean teaching a class or doing the morning tea, it might mean sitting beside someone afterwards or a deep conversation, or a brief interaction with someone I wouldn’t otherwise see. It’s about participating in a community… not just a specific localised community, but one which connects me around the world to others trying to follow Him.
I believe very much in the invisible Church – the one that is simply His Bride. His body. His followers. Anywhere, any time, anyone Church.
But I also love my little local church.
A few times lately I’ve heard people criticise it. Which because I am a part of its body, means I am a part of what is being criticised. And who says constructive criticism doesn’t hurt? Not me. Constructive schmuctive. It does too hurt.
Doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be said… I believe that like Proverbs says “wounds from a friend are to be trusted but an enemy multiplies kisses” but like the physical body suffers when one part of it is injured… it hurts. Whether I was an active part of whatever the criticism is over or not.
And I think that’s good.
Because it’s part of how the body is intended to function. I think perhaps we are meant to hurt – neither to revel in – nor reject – those criticisms but to remove the weapon so the wound can heal and return to function again. A leg with a knife stuck in it will never heal. And just pointing out the presence of the knife wont make it heal.
I do not like heavy structure. I don’t believe that’s representative of true Church. But even true Church has some structure. Not a lot, but some. And very important some. Not assigning biblical authoritative weight to non-biblical, non-authoritative, human structures is one way of clearing away the rubbish and keeping it simple, and truth focussed.
All this to say, I sense another of those full circle things turning another cog in my heart.