There was a time in my life where I wouldn’t miss church. I remember returning to church, it was directly next door to my downtown apartment. The amount of various substances I consumed every Sunday morning for those first few months back – I am surprised they let me in the door, reeking as I must have of ganja.
Not only did they let me in the door, they asked me to go back to my apartment and get my guitar so I could join the band – a keyboardist (the pastor’s wife) and another female singer. I strummed along, and before I knew it, I had spent two years at this little church of less than 20 people, and my girlfriend was pregnant. They threw us the absolute best baby shower, just the sweetest people. And after the baby was born, I spent a few more weeks going, then I just realized it has been two years since I have been in there. Except I still have a key, and my guitar still sits on the stage, so I will stop by in the middle of the day sometimes and strum my guitar.
I feel so bad, because I don’t know what church is. I worked at “mega” churches throughout my twenties, always directly for the head pastor – king of his ecclesiastical empire. I had stayed out of church for almost seven years before I went back to this small, intimate affair next to my apartment. It was the only thing that could have gotten me back into it. I couldn’t do anything where they are telling you about joining a “small group” (or, they probably call it like a damn “nucleus group” or “cell group” or “base camp” depending on which Zondervan bible study the pastor subscribes to). I couldn’t do a glitzy put together, long-haired worship leader and band. With guitar solos. And synthesizers.
I also couldn’t do what I grew up with as a kid: baptist hymns, a pipe organ, and shiny white-haired folks in their suits and skirts. And a deep-voiced “Worship Minister” who shouted “HOW GREAT THOU ART” at the pews.
I know that doesn’t really encapsulate the spectrum, but those are the only places I can imagine not getting completely hung up on the evangelical legalism that just gushes from church pulpits here in the bible belt. I had enough of a personal radical grace revolution after I was well into my professional church life that the theology is such a hang up basically everywhere / everyone.
I want to start my own church, but I am in an unusual spot where I don’t want to sacrifice my entire weekend. I also dread the thought of the business side of the church. Strange, too, because my twenties were spent figuring out how to generate money in a church role, spinning off media projects, connecting to the conference circuit, and compiling sermon series into devotional literature. I also never thought I would shy away from an opportunity to be in that extroverted church environment.
I think churches can be helpful, possibly even life-saving. I think a lot of folks want to turn it around, and want to find a community of positive folks who are willing to face life’s difficult questions. And, most importantly, I think folks desperately want to hear that their sins are forgiven, that Christ’s blood was spilled for them, that grace is for them. For you.
Unfortunately, I am not there yet. I hope that airing some of this out will create the room in my head for the nudging that needs to help so I can scratch this itch. Maybe find some faith in the principles behind the church, even if I have lost faith in the building and the business.