Church Shopping
My wife and I are looking for a new church. I never thought we’d be in this situation. My assumption was we’d go to our church for the rest of our lives. So much for assumptions.
While writing my not-yet-published memoir, God, I Don’t Want to Go to Church, I realized I’d picked every church Candy and I have attended over the years. I’d have my favorite; she’d have hers. Unable to agree, I’d effectively decide because I drove. She’d go along, grumbling a bit as we went, but eventually we’d settle into life at our new church.
For our last church, I committed us to be part of a church plant without consulting her. I assumed she’d be as excited as me. I was wrong. Eventually she embraced my choice as we immersed ourselves with giddy excitement into the allure of creating a fresh faith expression, working with a like-minded community of spiritual mavericks and misfits, rejects of today’s church culture.
I later apologized to her for always picking our churches. I promised she could pick the next one—even though I assumed there never would be a next one.
A few years later, after our yearlong sabbatical of researching and writing 52 Churches, we returned to our home church. We picked up where we left off. Friends welcomed us back, excited about our return. A few, however, never knew we were gone. This reminded me of how big and disconnected our church had become. Faithful regulars, even with a visible presence each Sunday, could slip away for a year and not be missed.
In his book The Barbarian Way, Erwin McManus wrote about being barbarians for Jesus, of not settling for a civilized acceptance of the religious status quo. We started our church plant as passionate barbarians, but in eight short years we had settled into a civilized acquiescence. We had become like other churches, just with edgier music and more attendees from society’s fringe.
As we became organized (civilized), there was less room for my maverick soul to find solace. An all-too-familiar ache resurfaced, that spiritual yearning for more. This unanswered pang in my spirit left me again asking questions about what it means to truly follow Jesus and how his church should function. Church is not to assure our comfort, but to insure his kingdom.
Our daughter and her family went to this church with us. We persisted in attending to be with them. But then our son-in-law switched jobs, and they moved near our son and his wife.
The pull of family caused us to ask an unexpected question: Should we move too? After consulting with our kids and receiving their blessing, we did just that.
Now we need to find a new church.
