Question Anything But Church

In case you missed it, I am making an outrageous claim. I am saying that the church is not a natural extension of the message of Jesus but a radical departure from it. If you haven’t questioned my sanity, I question yours. I am taking a swipe at one of the fundamental building blocks of western civilization.

People have debated the tenets of Christianity for ages: the nature of God, the divinity of Christ, what happens when we die, how to be saved, the right way to be baptized and take communion… These issues split us into camps but leave us under the broad umbrella of Christianity.

There is one aspect of Christianity too sacred to be questioned: the church. It’s fine to revive the church, to reform the church, to modernize the church, to despise the church, and even to leave the church. What is not acceptable, not ever, not under any circumstances, is to question the church.

The Unimaginable World Without Church

Church is the child of a marriage between Christ and Constantine. It bears little resemblance with the teachings of Jesus. But it has been around since the fourth century, claiming to be the embodiment of Christ in this world. It is as much a part of our universe as the sun and moon and stars. A world without church is a world in which we can no longer find our bearings. We can imagine a world without God. We could never imagine a world without church.

Leaving church was the most distressing and disorienting experience of my life. I was a lost soul, awash in a sea of questions, without rudder or compass. Leaving church didn’t just force me to make a few adjustments. It blasted a gaping hole through my whole existence, both as a Christian and as an American.

The Hole Where Church Used to Be

It wasn’t inspiration that I missed when I left church. I felt closer to God in the Sierras than in church. I like to take long walks on Sundays and spend time in my books and Bible. This is far more nourishing than sitting through a church service. When I look around Sundays, it is obvious that I’m not alone.

Of course there is always that lady on the second row, lifting her hands, dancing to the music. And there is always that man who “Amens” every point of the sermon and laughs at every joke. But if you take a general survey the faces in the room, you’ll find most of them vacant. They look like a crowd at the airport waiting for a delayed flight, checking with their watches to see when they can go.

No, it wasn’t the absence of inspiration that hit me like a Mack truck when I left church. It was the loss connection with other people and a defined path to God. When I left church, I lost both my friends and my way.

Ecclesia: Filling the Hole with a Mountain

After four years, I am starting to recover. I’m finding new friends whose love comes without creedal requirements. I’m getting reacquainted with a God who is wild and mysterious and unpredictable. As difficult as my transition has been, I wake up every morning and bless God for it.

Throwing rocks at church is easy and ordinary. Why would I do that? Church is a shadow from my past. Ecclesia is the light ahead, bright as new creation.

Ecclesia is not a theory. It is a way of life, as gritty as the dirt beneath my fingernails. In these last five episodes, I will bring Ecclesia down to earth. I want it to be so clear that a child can understand. Indeed, if a child cannot understand it, I have badly missed my target.

“Let the little children come to me,” said Jesus. “Do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” (Luke 18:16)

I’ll start today by painting a picture. In the weeks that follow, I will focus in on the pieces of that picture. As we go, you will see that Ecclesia does more than fill the hole left by church.