“Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another – and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” (Hebrews 10:25)

Is “Church” a Dirty Word?

I’ve always felt a little guilty about church. I felt guilty when I didn’t attend; I felt guilty when I did attend; I felt guilty if I didn’t become a member; I felt guilty after I became a member; I felt guilty when I stayed at a certain church; and I felt guilty when I left that church. Then the cycle would begin all over again.

What is wrong with me? Can’t I just be satisfied with church like other Christians? Isn’t it our duty to go to church, to join the church? Doesn’t the Bible tell us that we must go to church if we are truly Christians?

First Posted May 19, 2008

I’ve had pastors tell me that my salvation was in jeopardy if I didn’t attend church regularly (in my last episode, the pastor was referring to Sunday night and Wednesday services, seeing as I was already there to get yelled at on Sunday morning).

If the Bible and the pastor tell me that attending church is an integral part of my Christianity, that my Christianity isn’t really Christianity at all without regular church attendance, then why do I feel so lousy when I do attend church? Do I possess some basic fault, which apparently doesn’t exist in other Christians, to make me feel this way?

I haven’t developed this aversion to church overnight. And, to be fair, when I do go to church, I enjoy a good bit of it. Of course, I do my best to avoid any church that I may not enjoy a good bit of.

I’m conflicted and here’s the conflict.

I’m a born-again Christian. I write on born-again Christian topics—like telling other born-again Christians how they should behave. I publish books by born-again Christian authors who write about how born-again Christians ought to behave. I ought to have come to terms with this whole church thing a long time ago, but I haven’t.

And since I’m getting pretty old, I figure it’s time to deal with any basic incongruities still hanging around in my life.

Does this mean I’m going to take my place in the pew, keep my mouth shut, and join the ecclesiastically satisfied masses?

Nah.

Does it mean I’m all of a sudden going to start feeling good about going church on Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesdays?

Probably not.

(By the way. If you feel great about church and have no idea what I’m talking about, consider yourself blessed and pass on this particular post. But there are a lot of your brothers and sisters in Christ out there just like me, in church and out of church, who are miserable about the whole situation and want an honest answer.)

I don’t necessarily buy what a lot of church leaders are telling me about how I should feel about church. On the other hand, as Dad used to say, “You can’t throw the baby out with the bath water.” Church, whether you like it or not, is a big part of the Christian life, and if you call yourself a Christian and want Christ to believe it, you’d better deal with church.

*****

A little personal history.

My father was in full-time ministry since before I was born. I was raised in the church, and Dad represented the leadership of the church. I considered my dad head and shoulders above his peers as a pastor and a minister. Some of that admiration may have been prejudiced by the fact he was my dad, but looking back on his life from my current perspective I’ll stick with my story. He really was head and shoulders above a lot of his peers.

The point is that my problem with church doesn’t stem from some latent hostility toward my father as an authority figure. I liked and admired the guy when I was a kid, and I admire and empathize with him more now that I’ve had the opportunity to walk a few more miles in his moccasins.

And I don’t believe my general dissatisfaction with church comes my from lack of trying. Dad was saved, educated, and ordained a Baptist. His search for a more complete relationship with God, led him to the baptism of the Holy Spirit (more Pentecost than Pentecostalism). Where he went, we followed. As a result, I have experienced a wide swath of churches, denominations, and doctrines; a lot of them spending more time and effort assailing each other than winning the world.

Again, my point is that I don’t believe the answer to my dissatisfaction with church is that I just haven’t tried the right one.

I don’t want to be too hard on churches, though. The world is a better place with churches than without them.
The problem, I believe, is in what we think church is; the definition it has become, as opposed to God’s desire for what the church ought to be.

The word “church,” according to Webster, is defined as:

1. A building for public and especially Christian worship.

2.The clergy or officialdom of a religious body.

3. Often capitalized: a body or organization of religious believers, identified as:

a) the whole body of Christians

b) DENOMINATION

c) CONGREGATION.

4. A public divine worship.

5. The clerical profession.

According to Webster, the primary definition of “church” is a building, a place where people, especially Christians, come to worship. There’s one on almost every street corner, in every city or town. It can be a magnificent edifice with soaring spires that reach into the heavens, a simple rural white clapboard rectangle with a matching white steeple, or a former furniture store with a programmable digital sign knocking out a stream of LED announcements. The church, according to Webster, is primarily a building; sometimes magnificent, sometimes humble, sometimes recycled; built by men from wood and stone and steel.

Secondly, Webster defines “church” as “the clergy or officialdom.” That is—the folks in charge. If we look beyond the building, we discover a separate, other meaning. The “church” isn’t built just of brick and mortar and sheetmetal, but also of men (the species, not the gender); a hierarchy, a government, an elite leadership that represents the”officialdom” of the structure that has become “church.” Be it sticks and stones or flesh and bone, that, according to Webster,  is definition one and two of “church.”

To understand the “church” according to Webster’s definition two, I had to return to the dictionary for a definition of “officialdom” Webster’s answer was short and sweet: “officials as a class.” A class of what? The definition seemed a little lacking, so I dug deeper, this time into the Encarta English Dictionary of North America. According to Encarta “officialdom” is a word that encompasses bureaucrats and bureaucracy; specifically, “bureaucracy and those who work within it, especially when viewed as inefficient or pompous.”

Youch! That’s a little harsh! I know a lot of folks who could be considered “church officialdom” that ar neither inefficient or  pompous. Some of them are my best friends! But, if I’m being honest, I have to admit that I’ve known members of the “officialdom” that were both inefficient and pompous. Some that were efficient and pompous and some that were inefficient but not pompous at all. So, as dear old dad used to say, “Let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater.”

That said, studying the definition of “church” was really beginning to depress me. According to Webster, I was discovering that I had spent my life, as my father had spent his, serving and supporting either a building or a bureaucracy, or perhaps some combination of the two. No wonder I felt guilty and dissatisfied about church.

I had to push on. Maybe there was some light at the end of this. Surely there was more to church than bricks and bureaucrats. I continued my study.

Webster’s third definition capitalized “Church” and divided it into three sub-categories: a) “the whole body of Christians; b) “DENOMINATION”; and c) “CONGREGATION.” But wait a minute! Webster’s listed DENOMINATION and CONGREGATION in all caps. Was there some kind of hidden message here? Maybe Webster was hinting that DENOMINATION and CONGREGATION took some sort of precedence over “the whole body of Christians.” I had to think about that one.

In spite of my confusion about capitals I was encouraged. At least we were talking about people! Not just the “officialdom,” but those who occupied the pews.

That was me! I was one of those pew occupiers! If the church was me and people like me, how could I feel guilty and dissatisfied? If I’m part of the definition, does that mean I’m part of my own problem? Does it mean that I could also be part of my solution? I may have found a little the hope for which I was searching.

Encouraged as I was with this third definition, I still had to deal with why Webster divided its meaning into three distinct sub-categories.

a) “The whole body of Christians.” This definition I could understand. I was part of “the whole body of Christians.” I took this to mean people who belonged to—gave their hearts to—Christ. That was me! People who, just like me, recognized Jesus as the Son of God and personal savior and put the trust of their eternal future in His hands.

b) “DENOMINATION“: Dad used to cal them “abominations.” He had some history too. Personally, I figure that any label beyond Christian (literally “slave of Christ”) is a label that puts me one step further away from the One I serve. They may serve some purpose here on Earth, but I’m pretty sure there won’t be DENOMINATIONS in Paradise.

c) “CONGREGATION”: Still in caps! That bothers me. Like it still outranks “the whole body of Christians.” We’ll have to deal with that one in the next post.

The Bible talks about church. The New Testament mentions the word 108 times, so, conflicted or not, we’ve got to deal with it,. Here’s a little hope though; you may be surprised about what the Bible actually does say about “church.” It’s probably not what you’re thinking.

In the next post we’ll get into a little etymology. That’s word study (not bug study).

Until then.

In Christ,

Steve Spillman