Missing Church

When I was growing up we never missed church.

Really.

I’m sure we must have had one week when someone was sick, but I honestly don’t remember it. “Going to church” was a commitment. It was a given.

Yeah, I know “church” isn’t just a place. It’s not the building.  The New Testament word for “church” is ekklesia, which means “the called out ones.” WE are the church.

But our God cares about places too. He is a God of rhythms, rituals, and rocks. He commanded the Israelites to build a tabernacle, a temple, and to pile stones in specific places so they wouldn’t forget His faithfulness or formation of them. I think “going to church” as an act of worship, is significant. When we “miss church” we miss something more than an item on our to-do list.

In this season of “lasts” for John and I as we anticipate leaving ministry at CPC,  I want to be at church every possible chance I get. I want to be present to all the people in this community I love, and present to God at the same time.

I want to be greeted by Debbie at the door of the Great Room, and sit in “my” pew, and remember all the marking moments I’ve experienced here. I want to serve communion, and receive it too. I want to snag one of Sharon’s famous cookies at the receptionist’s desk when she works on Wednesdays. I want to see Noel in the Bobcat shoveling snow, and hear Jane practicing the organ. I want to eavesdrop as Michelle patiently helps someone who is new and lost and has wandered into the bookstore. I want to hold a baby at Mom’s Morning and pray with the Catalyst community. I want to hug Dinny at the 9:30 service, and give Betsy a kiss in her wheelchair at the 11:00. I want to bring dinner to Families Moving Forward and I want to be run down by rambunctious teens in the hallway on a Wednesday night, and I want to listen as Heather leads the littles in choir song.

I don’t want to miss church. 

Each of these things by themselves is not dramatically significant. But together, like dots of color in an impressionist painting, they create a picture of how God has been forming me.  

Like one of my favorite verses says, “Do not despise the day of small things.” (Zechariah 4:10)

As much as I crave being present in the actual church building these days, it’s rarely convenient to go to church. I may be tired, or want to meet friends for brunch, or there’s snow (dontcha know). But in going at a time I don’t choose, maybe I cooperate with God in my formation as well as worship Him.

The people who sit around me in the pews aren’t always people who are easy for me to love. I may run into someone who’s been super critical, or has different political leanings than I do, or is awkward to talk to. Maybe by not missing church Jesus forms me into a tiny bit more gracious, empathetic person.

The songs we sing aren’t always my favorites. There may be fussy toddlers who are distracting, and sometimes I would rather be making my to-do list instead of trying to listen for God’s Word to me. Sometimes the prayers go too long or the silence is too short. But perhaps Jesus is using these to form patience, or tolerance, or humility in me.

The inconveniences of “going to church”  are exactly the reasons that it’s important for me not to miss. Because bit by bit, God is going to use these things to make me more like Him if I pay attention.

Church isn’t easy. It takes patience and prayer and perseverance. We’re broken people with rough edges, rubbing against each other as we try to follow Jesus. But God uses this proximity to each other and to Him, to create something beautiful.

As John and I transition out of ministry at CPC, we won’t miss church on Sundays (we’ll go to church somewhere!), but we’ll sure miss this church where God has showed up and showed off, and formed us into the people we are today.