Why go to Church?

I phrased the title as a question, but I warn you, this post is more like a short chronicle of my life in terms of church-attendance. I promise to answer the question before the end.

My Life in Churches

I should start by saying that my dad is a pastor, which explains why I remember more of the layout of my first church than I do my first house. I practically lived there, and even when I got older and spent most of my time in school, I was still at church at least Sunday morning, Sunday evening, and Wednesday night, if not more. Sometimes it took a little effort to get there, but like school, going was the default; you didn’t miss unless you had a specific reason.

I faithfully went to church every Sunday all the way through college, and I found a church when I came to Jacksonville. People are always telling me about unfortunate experiences they’ve had with churches, but I’ve never fallen into a dead or judgmental or fanatical church. I guess God’s grace has protected me – and maybe I’m just better at avoiding counterfeits since I’ve seen the real thing. In any case, every church I’ve attended has been full of warm, loving, genuine people, as is the one I attend now. And yet I don’t go every week.

Reality Ensues

Why? Well, because I have work. I’ll discuss the idea of working on the Sabbath some other time, but for now, suffice it to say that the Navy doesn’t stop for weekends, and I made peace with that before I joined. So I’m in and out a lot these days, and always pressed for time. In fact, when I first came to Jacksonville, I was much less committed to church attendance than I am now.

See, I’m an introvert, and that means that I do my best thinking when I’m alone. My spiritual life doesn’t stop when I’m out of church; it often becomes more intense at times like these, when I’ve spent the day sitting alone in my apartment, thinking and praying and reading and writing. And sometimes I wonder if my time wouldn’t be better spent worshipping on my own.

I think I shy away from going mainly because of a reluctance to look reality in the face. When I go to church, I can’t closet myself with my ideals. I have to deal with the everyday, inadequate, flawed people who are the saints of God. When theory becomes application, a good deal of the glory vanishes, and “loving one another” becomes helping the person in the next row who talks all through the sermon and always leaves tissues wadded up in the pew-back for you to pick up. Often I feel like I’m giving more than I’m receiving.

The Something

But I go anyway. I can’t stay away. I don’t force myself, but something forces me; something draws me in. There is something irresistible about the gathering of the people of God in worship, something felt by everyone from David to Augustine to Luther. Worship not only brings us closer to God; it brings us closer to each other. We are all together the body of Christ, and we must gather and grow together.

I won’t spend time on the Scriptural references here; they’re clear enough. I just wanted to share this with you, because I’ve only just realized how real it is. When you grow up in a church, it’s hard to tell the difference between God’s people and my people. But as I’ve moved out into the world, church and my comfort zone are no longer the same place. I usually know no one, and oftentimes I can’t point out anything concrete I’ve gained by going.

And yet, instead of becoming weaker, my yearning for the gathering of God’s people has grown stronger. There is something really different about the people of God, something that doesn’t exist anywhere else. It calls no matter what country, language, color, or culture. It doesn’t matter; these are my people. Something more than personal relationship, or shared interest, or similar background, is drawing us together.

Why do I go to church? Because I need the accountability, humility, and perspective that come with community. Because the people I am commanded to love are there. But mostly, because He is there. And when He calls, I come.

“Church Wedding Service” by John Beagle is licensed under CC BY 2.0