What is Church?

Sunday Morning
On Sunday morning I walked to church. Wheaton is a very churchy town, and as I was walking I passed dozens of people all dressed up walking and driving to and from churches on almost every corner. By the time I got to the church I was headed for, I decided that I was a little weirded out by the whole church culture. Everyone dressed up picture perfect flocking into stately buildings. It felt like…pride? I wonder what it would look like to an outsider. I walked by a park and almost stopped there because it seemed so beautiful and friendly. But it’s not like I go to church often, at least a church I can understand.

Church culture is kind of hard to crack. I feel really awkward visiting churches, and I’ve grown up in them. Even in a crowded room, everyone is alone, focused on the singers or pastor or whoever is up front. They talk about community but people hardly look at each other. They notice the clothes you wear or check to make sure your purse matches with your shoes and avoid looking into your eyes.

The music starts. Even voices, smooth transitions. It reminds me of elevator music or the “easy listening” selections. The lights dim, the music fades, and the people pray. They stand and sit down and pass the little silver trays. They all do it so smoothly, and the leaders always say the right things. The pastor speaks slowly, pausing unnaturally at places that don’t need emphasis. Do they have classes for that in seminary? When he prays at the end, the song leaders slip in quietly and are back in place by the “amen,” seamlessly moving into the closing song. The lights come back on and the performance is over.

I am left feeling surreal. This doesn’t connect to normal life. I don’t mean to bash the church people or say I am better or more sincere than them. I am sure they were sincere and that some need in them was met. I just can’t understand it anymore, because my life is full of unmatching accessories and awkward transitions and people saying the wrong things. And if my prayers had background music it wouldn’t be easy listening.

Sunday Night
Sunday night I went to a potluck kind of dinner with others from my class. We are all teachers in Asia and therefore a unique mix. We aren’t around friends most of the year, so we like to take advantage of this time to be as social as possible. After eating we sat around singing songs – hymns and rounds and even one gospel song with a three-part harmony. We aren’t too embarrassed by sounding bad or forgetting the words.

We prayed too, in between the songs, and after a while I asked for prayer about the depression. I didn’t want to, because who wants to suddenly be the vulnerable one in a big group of people? But I felt that pounding in my spirit saying, “Just do it. Just do it.” For a brief minute everyone was quiet while I looked at the floor. Then someone asked if I’d move closer in so they could pray for me.

I didn’t have to look at their eyes. I could feel the warmth in their hands and their voices as they surrounded me. I wasn’t alone in this; I couldn’t have been less alone. I don’t know that I’ve ever been surrounded by such love and acceptance. I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced so closely what community is. Some people knew me pretty well, some people hardly at all. But we were all connected together. We realize we are in this race together, and that means sharing the burdens and pains.

Wednesday Night
On Wednesday night I went to this mega church complex called Willow Creek. It was huge. For example, it had…
- A huge auditorium with two balconies of stadium seating.
- A parking lot big enough to need the rows numbered like in an airport.
- Sight maps and computer information stations.
- Waterfalls.
- Escalators in the main atrium area.
- A bookstore (the size of any independent Christian bookstore), cafeteria, and coffee shop.
- At least 6 large television screens within the main auditorium so everyone could see the speaker up close and personal like.
Thus the “church complex” part. Kind of like an airport or Disneyland. It was interesting. Kind of sensory overload.