Club Church

I was sitting in a courtroom with a friend, when he leaned over and whispered, “There’s a strange formality. There are rules to follow, but no one tells you what they are. There’s a club that knows them and everyone outside it is off balance.”

As we talked we realized, “This is like church.”

Folks in the club know where to go when they walk in. Where to take your kids. What they do when they take them.

They know where to sit. When to stand up. When to close your eyes when you’re talking. They know the songs and even why we’re singing. They know to raise your hand when you sing but that you can’t, to ask questions, when the guy is talking.

They know about the book he’s reading from and how to find the spot he’s reading. They know what he means by, lost, found, sinner, saved and sanctified. They know why he gets to talk and no one else does.

They know what the tiny cups are for and the weird crackers that come with them. They know why the guy starts dunking people. They know why a cross is there.

We need to understand there are things about a “church” experience that aren't intuitive and can put people off balance. And we should work to minimize those things.

But here’s the deal. If my ship wrecks and I wash up on some island and a group of natives find me, I’m not going to care if I don’t understand their language, customs or culture. All I will be worried about is, are they going to heal me, comfort me and help me get home?  

There are a lot of people in sinking ships who are so culturally removed from the church it's like they've never seen land before. We need to learn how to love them, help heal them and show them the way home.