A Day of Two Halves

Sunday Sunday
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I've written about this before, I know, but I need to think it through a bit more. We go to two different churches on Sundays. Small, local church and big, city church.

Small, local church
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This happens to be a baptist fellowship. It's young and has lots of young families. It meets in a school drama theatre with no windows. We serve this church. Jamie does a lot of the music work and leads musical worship quite a bit. I work in the creche and sing in the music group, though not at the same time.{g} We are aware of the need to practice hospitality so even though it's not my 'gift' I do it anyway in an attempt to nurture relationships. We spend a lot of time trying to improve the various aspects of this fellowship that we are involved in. The kids are in very good small groups but the main benefit to this church is its proximity to home.

We've had a lot of stress as a result of this church. We get frustrated by the lack of maturity of its members, the poor preaching and teaching generally, the lack of focus on Jesus and discipleship, the in-fighting and empire-building and fear of losing control. Nothing happens except through slow-motion committee, nothing changes except everyone votes on it, no one seems to have any authority to do anything unless there has been endless discussion and now they're even introducing a new system where we can't sing a new song without it goes before the music committee first (of which Jamie is a part), which can take months.

I quite often leave this church on a Sunday lunchtime stifling back tears. Sometimes, it's because no one talked to me or my daughter in this small congregation. Jack and Jamie always have enough outgoingness to cope. Sometimes, I am just too worn out to stretch myself to go up to one of the groups and push myself into the middle of it. Grace just doesn't have it in her and couldn't do that if she was on fire.

Sometimes, I cry because the services are so badly planned by the pastor who seems to think that it goes well if it resembles a very poor primary school assembly. The people's needs for Bible teaching (meat) and worship have not been properly met and they don't even *know* they aren't getting fed. The people are passive observers, consumers of the service, rather than participants.

Sometimes, like yesterday, I cried because I didn't hear Jesus' name mentioned once in prayer, talk, or song during the WHOLE service. It was a mission service. The team who'd just returned from a mission to an orphanage in India had lots to tell us about the work there, about church planting, about the children in the orphanage, about fundraising. They interviewed some of the youth about their impressions of India. They played videotape of the children singing songs and playing. It was lovely and heartwarming! And it would have been entirely appropriate for a Saturday mission meeting.
Just not a Sunday service. Not once did we sing about Jesus. We sang 'God is Good All the Time'. Yes, He is. We sang 'Blessed is the Name of the Lord- He is a strong tower that the righteous run into and are saved'. But no explanation of what they are running from and what they're saved from or for. We had a 'talk' from the pastor about how we need to have Beautiful Feet and to take the Good News to every nation, but no mention of what the Good News is that he wants us to take. Even the Bible reading was not one reading, it was a collection of snippets that supported the 'We must Go' theme.

But Jesus, where were YOU? Forgive us, Lord, for forgetting about you amid our activity and self-congratulation about the orphanage in India.

Big, city church
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That evening, the moment we step inside this church we know we are home. The first song acknowledges that 'Jesus Is The Name We Honour'. The musical worship is earnest and passionate. About a quarter of the congregation have their hands raised, eyes closed. You can just feel the deep desire these people (mostly students, their professors and young professionals) have for expressing their love for their Saviour. It's practically tangible. It's as though they have thirsted all week and are now drinking deep draughts of life-giving water, so as to be renewed for the week ahead.

The songs (and hymns) have been carefully chosen to work together musically and spiritually. The author of one of the songs is tonight's worship leader, a world-renowned song-writer. Yet, here he is, doing this week after week, humble, leading, supporting the congregation in their offerings of songs of love to a mighty God. And we know we are joining in with the heavenly work of worship that's on-going all the time. We join with the angels singing Worthy is the Lamb!

The Bible reading is a long chunk of Mark which we've been working through for weeks in meticulous detail. Jesus is arrested and hauled off, in the dead of night, to be questioned and beaten before the Sanhedrin. And Peter's repeated denials, which shame us all. The contrasting stories of Jesus' faithfulness and Peter's (temporary) treachery are told so skillfully by Mark. For the first time, I realise what a great writer he was! The passage is explained and explored by the associate minister and threads and details drawn out in such a way that I understand this passage almost for the first time. I feel as though dark glasses have been removed from my eyes.

Prayers of intercession, gloriously composed, the Confession, the Lord's Prayer and the words of the Communion, 'On the night He was betrayed...' More singing. We respond to all that we've heard and understood. We're passionate and thankful. I'm choking back tears again, but this time it's because I feel fulfilled, because this is what church should be.

If you want mission or social action, then you have it galore at this church. They have programmes coming out of their ears, but Sunday services are for worshipping the Lord through Word and Song. God's love letter to us and our responses.

Afterwards, as we drink tea, we're waiting for the youth group to start, and THREE people come up to me to introduce themselves to me. (So much for the cold-ness of large churches.) Jamie and I are invited to the pub to socialise with a group of young people after the service. How welcoming and kind. We can't go as we have out 13 year old with us, so they direct us to an ice-cream parlour that sells home-made ice-cream where we can wait until it's time to pick Grace up and go home.

The Dilemma
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I want to leave the stress and cliques of the small, poor, local fellowship behind for good and become fully part of this mature, committed community of believers in the city. But the problem is that God hasn't released us from the local church yet. He still has work for us to do there. Apparently.

I feel badly about just 'taking' from the big city church in order to survive out here in the sticks. I feel awkward straddling the two churches. Where do we belong? Jamie has fewer concerns and the kids don't mind. They are relatively happy in both.

This morning
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As I tortured myself with worry about this situation, wondering where God really wants us, I read this message from the minister in the city church parish magazine:

'We encourage every member who is part of another community to keep at least one foot in their local church community even if life at our church is their primary involvement. I believe in the local church; I do not really believe in denominations or diocesan centralisation, though of course I recognise the necessity of much that the diocese does. But I do believe that our country will be won for Christ principally through the ministry of the local church.'

So, I guess that was God reassuring me to stay- uncomfortably straddled, doing our best in the local church, being refreshed and resourced by the city church until and unless He calls us otherwise. I'm going to try to be content to be obedient. I'll let you know how that goes! {g}

I'd love your comments on our situation.