I got about half way there, then made an abrupt right turn at the light. Nope. Really not feeling it today.
I’m not a typical church-hopper. I grew up in church, and I like to find a place where I fit in comfortably, and then stay there for a long time — usually until something changes (which might be me).
I remember one of my last church changes — about 15 years ago. I’d been going to a particular church near my home for about 3 years, had made a few friends, and it was pretty convenient. But I found myself frequently leaving services frustrated. Something was just off. For me, it was usually the sermon, like the preacher was just up there behind the modern-style pulpit doing some performance. Sometimes he was engaging, sometimes funny, sometimes his words even spoke directly to me, but often I walked away feeling it had been a waste of my time.
After one of those experiences I started jotting some notes on what I was expecting. As a serious Christian, as a gay man, and as a seminary graduate, I had a distinct wish-list of criteria. No church is gonna be perfect. How could it be? But at least if I knew what I was looking for, I’d be more likely to recognize it when I ran across it. And so I came up with 4 or 5 key items (for me).
And today, as I pointed my car back towards home on a Sunday morning, that list was running thru my mind. Intentional Church. Doing Church on purpose. What (for me, anyway) is important.
And that’s item #1: Being intentional about what we’re doing there on Sunday morning
Not just going thru the regular Sunday routine — intro music, greetings, announcements, sing couple of songs, meet & greet, sermon, offering, closing song, exit. For me, an ideal church has a mission, a goal, and each Sunday they focus on that goal: connecting the people with God. Every component of Sunday worship, then, is geared toward that goal.
#2: Where the presence of God is cherished
One of my friends noted this was a key factor in his converting to Catholicism. When he walked into his Catholic church for the first time many years ago, he immediately felt a reverence for God, and noticed that the people honored that. It was a dramatic contrast from the Pentecostal church he grew up in. For me, this reverence – or “honoring the presence” – is something that I notice mostly during “worship,” the singing of songs. I grew up in a church where we’d sing a couple of hymns and call it done. Didn’t matter the theme of the hymns, though they were categorized in the back of the hymnal by devotional theme if the preacher felt like coordinating with the music leader. And often the songs were “we” or “I”-oriented: “I was once a sinner, until Jesus found me…” kind of songs. Or, “when we all get to heaven, what a glorious day that will be, when we all see Jesus, I’ll sing and shout the victory.” Stuff like that. They were often encouraging stories, rallying songs, reminding us of our history, our lives, the painful world we live in.
And there’s a place for those kinds of songs. But what was often missing was an actual focus on God.
Praise and worship, I would later discover in charismatic churches, should actually be directed at God, like we are actually speaking *to* God, singing to God, pouring our hearts out to God, worshiping, loving God, and expecting his presence. When our hearts are focused on God, particularly during group singing, something happens. We *feel* something. One sociologist labeled it “collective effervescence,” that shared sense of energy, harmony, and connection. Whether that is just a normal human response or whether it is a spiritual phenomenon (and those two likely overlap), you are affected by that encounter. And that, I think, is the presence of God among us. And we need to take that seriously. When it’s so blatantly obvious when we feel it, and you can see it on people’s faces or when their hands go spontaneously into the air in physiological response to that internal energy, we need to cherish that. Not rush it. Not move on to announcements. Not be worried about the schedule. You’re in the presence of a Living, Loving Energy. You don’t rush that.
#3: Where the message is inspired
And I mean that literally. We’ve all sat through our share of tedious sermons, studious lectures, or emotional rants. But what is the key to an “inspiring” message? I noticed this at one of the small churches I used to go to, and it changed me forever. Virtually every sermon I heard the preacher give seemed to hit home. I walked out each time thinking God had just spoken something to me. And one day the pastor explained why. Each Monday she began praying about her sermon for the coming Sunday, asking God what he wanted to say to his people that week. Simple as that. But she didn’t step behind that pulpit until she was confident she had a “word” for us from the Throne of God. She took her role as messenger of God seriously. And we all felt it.
There’s a time and place for serious bible study, for lesson learning, for doctrine, and uplifting stories. But for me, the main purpose of a Sunday sermon is edification. We need to be spiritually “fed.” I wanna walk away as though I’ve just heard something directly from God. It’s usually just a nugget, one small grain of truth that hits home, that you walk out the door with. And you know it when it happens. Sadly, too many preachers don’t put in that kind of prayerfully-attentive work — listening — before they give their weekly homiletic performances.
And hey, notice that I didn’t say that they’ve got all their doctrinal bugs worked out. Theology is an ever-evolving human perspective on an Infinite God. “There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” Shakespeare once wrote. Don’t expect perfect theology. This is especially relevant for us LGBTQ+ and deconstructing folks, as we search for fully-affirming and progressive congregations. Our own beliefs have changed over the years. We can’t expect everyone to have “arrived” or be on the exact same page we are. But hopefully, the church (and leadership) will be mature enough to allow for doctrinal flexibility. (If not, that’s probably not the place for you, anyway.)
#4: Community
Or, the nice churchy word we used to say, “fellowship.” Unfortunately, much of modern Western Christianity has been focused on the individual, “my personal walk with God.” And that’s certainly valid. But it’s hard to do that alone. We need each other, we need friendships, people who know us, who interact with us, to help us move along our journey, and who can be there in time of need. And that can’t really happen if you’re just showing up Sunday morning, doing the church thing, then hurry home afterwards.
For us introverts, this is the hardest part: connecting with others. It’s not like you have to actually *like* everybody and be everybody’s friend. But it is really healthy if you can link up with one or two or a handful of people that you really relate to. So when I’m looking at prospective churches, I always look at what kind of groups they sponsor. Social groups. Prayer groups. Breakfast groups. Recovery groups. Activity groups. Spirituality groups. Bible studies. Meditation sessions. Book groups. Different ways to connect with people based on a variety of interests. Cuz, if all there is is just Sunday morning service, where I come, get my weekly ration of religion, and go home, then I’m not likely to stay long.
#5: Outreach
Another church word. Or better yet, “service.” I’m not talking about world missions where we plan 2-week trips to go street witnessing in Haiti. I’m not talking about “winning souls” (you know that language, right?). I’m talking about a vibrant faith, a genuine spirituality, that results in us caring for the world outside our little faith community. Caring for people, feeding people, helping. Being a legitimate light in the world — not just a blaring bullhorn shouting that we have the “Truth” with a capital-T. We’re not talking sales and promotions here. We’re talking serving humanity and the world, demonstrating that your faith has actually changed you in a loving, caring way — it is love expressed in the world.
Intention. Spiritual sensitivity. Inspired messages. Community. Service to the world.
That’s a pretty big wish list. Good luck finding a place that does all that. And your list — what you need for your spiritual growth — may be different. Like I said, no church is perfect. And no church has unlimited resources. But if you find a place that is God-focused and people-focused, where they take seriously that we live at the intersection of spirituality and physicality, where you’re getting encouraged to grow, and where you feel like you fit … then you’ve found a good place to be.
This morning, I didn’t make it to church. I wasn’t in the right head-space, and had other things on my mind. Who knows if my car will make it all the way into the church parking lot next week. You might be having the same kind of day. It may be that there is no such thing as a “permanent home” when it comes to finding a church. And that makes sense: we’re all growing, all on a journey. But wherever you end up next week, I hope it will be a place that meets your particular needs, and where they’re doing things on purpose.