What church means to me

Let me start by saying that I’m not really a very denominational person.

What I mean is that I don’t hold to the theological tenets of any one particular mainstream denomination. As long as a church believes in the main things I believe in (which I believe are scriptural), I can give or take the timing of water baptism, the timing and understanding of the end times, and how spiritual gifts manifest in believers (among other things). That being said, I’m not a Pentecostal. I do not believe that one must speak in tongues if one has the Holy Spirit. So I’ve never been comfortable in those kinds of churches. I also tend not to go to Lutheran churches because I think it’s a little fishy that only Lutherans can take communion. 

I grew up in a small Presbyterian (USA) church from ages 3 to 12, but I was baptized by sprinkling as a pre-teen, not as an infant. Three years later I was baptized by immersion in a pool beneath an African waterfall out in the bush. That really brought home what baptism meant, made it real to me. (The same amazing man of God who baptized me that year also presided at my wedding nine years later.)

While we lived in Nigeria when I was growing up, we mostly attended chapel services at my school, which is interdenominational. Our services ranged from very Baptist to very Anglican, with everything in between. So I got a taste of different liturgies and a broad spectrum of music. You can see why I’m sort of a mish-mash of church styles.

I won’t attend a church that is led by a professed homosexual or by a pastor who will publicly condone that lifestyle. But neither will I attend a church that doesn’t have anything to say about its members divorcing and remarrying at will, living together without being married, being Scrooges, or being unloving. I believe a church should tell it like it is and use discipline as necessary, along biblical lines.

A church should be a family. It should have love and generosity and—yes—discipline. I know this opens a whole can of worms. (Feel free to discuss your thoughts on my FB page if you feel strongly about any of this.) But this is what I think about a church, or at least the Church.

There isn’t any perfect church. I’ve attended many, and none of them is ideal. But there are some in which I have felt at home, and there are others in which I have felt like a complete stranger, as if I had to ask myself, Who are these people?? I’ve never agreed 100% with any church I’ve attended, but I’ve usually agreed enough to continue attending and sometimes to become a member.

But the one thing I really miss is feeling at home in a church. When I was very small, my family attended Community Church of San Diego, and even after we moved to Los Angeles (and later to Nigeria), we would attend CCSD whenever we visited our extended family in San Diego. It is super small, and while many families have moved on to other places, there are still a few people there who have known me practically my whole life. If any church had ever made me feel at home, it would be CCSD. Another amazing church at which I felt right at home was Grace Community Church of Visalia. We happened to visit for the first time on the day they had a sign-up fair for Bible studies, Sunday school classes, AWANA, and other ministries. And that evening, an intern from the church and his wife brought us cookies and a packet of information. We didn’t even try any other churches in town. That was the first one we went to and the last. Everything Timothy & I did socially was through the church, and that felt right.

I’ve attended other welcoming churches, including First Pres of Coalinga and Church of the Great Shepherd in Wheaton. But I’ve never felt that family-ness except at CCSD and GCC. I am longing,  yearning for that family-ness and closeness for my own little family. I want my kids to grow up with aunties and uncles and friends, with surrogate grandparents (as long as their real grandparents remain thousands of miles away at any rate). I want to fellowship with brothers and sisters, not just strangers whose names I may or may not happen to remember. I want to be a part of other people’s lives, to be able to go to their houses and have them in mine. I want to share in ministry together, to grow together, to reach other people together.

When I attend a small church for six weeks in a row, I’d like someone to actually try to strike up a conversation with me, to find out who I am and what I’m doing here, where I’m from and where  I’m going. How can I get involved in a church that is not interested in being involved in my life? If no one bothers to take the time to get to know me, even a little, after repeat visits, what could possibly entice me to remain and give of myself there?

I know that closeness can take time. I know that I can’t expect to walk into a group of strangers and feel immediately at home. But we’re all believers. We’re all brothers and sisters in Christ. Surely we can put aside our stranger-ness and welcome each other with open arms? Maybe I will just keep attending churches until someone invites me to their home after church (or out, I guess), until someone shows me that I am not just a weird Northerner with biracial kids and a low voice but am actually a child of God who is worth an hour of conversation.

Or maybe I am doomed to float around from church to church, never finding another church home, just attending on Sunday mornings for worship and struggling to get by during the week with other local ministries. *sigh*