For those of you who don’t know, I have spent the majority of my life in church. Whenever someone used to ask me how long I had been in church I always used to tell them I was born in church. As in my mom was pregnant with me when she started attending so it was all I have ever known. However, my loving husband asked me to stop saying that because it sounded like my mom gave birth to me in the 3rd row pew right before offering was taken up. So now I say “I have been in church since the womb” because I feel like that makes it a little better.
Just to give you a little background, I grew up Pentecostal. Oh, you don’t know what that is? The girls that could only wear skirts, couldn’t wear makeup and had very long hair (because it could not be cut) which is most often worn in what I refer to as “bundage.” Yea, that was me. I know. Looking back in my 30 year old body, several tattoos, hair cut, and big hoop earrings on, it is hard for me to believe too. Church was what we did on Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, and Wednesday nights, first Monday nights, special Friday nights... you get it- we kicked it there... a lot. Most of the earliest memories I have involve sleeping under a pew and listening to my pastor’s wife sing old hymns. Still today those are some of the sweetest memories I have.
Several months ago I was talking with some people about their church where they serve. Honestly I don’t even know how we got to the subject but they told me they have actually seen church members yell at volunteers in the coffee shop when they don’t have their coffee out and ready when they arrive on Sunday morning. Confused I said “because they have paid for this coffee so they expect it to be there?” No, this coffee is free. “And the people attending the church are mad because their free coffee isnt out?” Yes. “ummmm... what??!!” As I was processing why this would even be happening, Jesus asked me a question “What does any of this have to do with me?”
Completely caught off guard, I sat quietly not really knowing what He was asking. In the days that followed I sought out the Lord needing to know what this question was all about only to have more questions come from Him. If there wasn’t free coffee, would the people still come? If there wasn’t all the flashing lights, beautiful building, great singers- would people still know me? Love me? Seek me? “Uhhh.... what??!! How am I supposed to know Jesus. I don’t even go to their church!” But that wasn’t what God was asking. He was after something more in my heart. He was asking “Do people know me outside of the 4 walls of the church?”
I know for me personally I have often boxed God in. Allowing him to move in the designated time between 9-10:30 AM on Sunday morning, while I was at church, because that is the time slot I picked for him. Anything outside of that was my time and God asking for any of it was invasive and just flat out rude. I mean- I gave him an hour and a half already right? Why didn’t he use that time wisely. Church in my mind has always been a PLACE. Of course it was. I went to it all the time as a kid and as an adult. So when Jesus decided to wreck my world with all of his crazy questions, there was a shift. I started moving from this idea of “going to church” and instead started realizing “I am the church.” I am not set apart mid morning on Sunday- I am set apart every moment of every day of my life. I am not in communion with Jesus JUST when I am in a building with other believers, but also when I am in my house with my husband and kids and we are praying together and worshipping.
I have spent so much of my life believing that I had to have someone else usher me into the presence of the Lord because they were “anointed as a worshiper” instead of realizing that Jesus is alive and accessible even to me who has the worst singing voice on the planet (although I am certain I sound like an angel to the Lord) while I am sitting in traffic in my mini van.
Oh how I wish this would have been shared with me early on in my walk with Jesus. I have so often thought “If I could just get so and so to church they would be better.” Trying to force them in with an incentive to buy them lunch after instead of knowing that I am just as capable of showing Christ’s love at any moment of any day to someone and that encounter could change their life.
So what does all of this mean? Why do I care enough to write about it? Why do you care enough to keep reading? Well, here is the deal- I meet people on a daily basis (And so do you) that are going to hell and for a long time I didn’t do shit about it. Oh- that language offended you? But the fact that people are going to hell didn’t? Moving on. If we are the body of Christ then we better not be waiting until Easter service comes around to invite someone to know Jesus. It may be too late. We should be showing God’s love daily, and not the creepy love like spewing scriptures down someones throat. No- I mean just letting Jesus live in us and through us. Helping a neighbor. Praying for a friend. Feeding the homeless. Doing the things Jesus did. If Jesus is in you, people will see the difference. They will want to be around you. Want to know what it is about you that is different from anyone else they have met. I’ve tried it. It works.
In all of this I am NOT saying don’t go to a church building, so please please please don’t read it like that. What I am saying is, don’t meet Jesus there and then leave him there.
How thankful I am for the conversation I had about coffee and even more that God would pursue me and have me question more. So much more I can and will say but for now- I pray that you Go. Be the church. The Bride of Christ. Beautiful and Glorious.
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