Let me begin this by saying that my husband and I are not “church hoppers” as the saying goes. We served the Lord faithfully and worshipped faithfully for 29 years in only 2 different churches, admittedly both small town churches—one for 15 years, a Bible church and one for 14 years, a Baptist church. We made the change in part because we moved from the suburbs to the country. Then in 2013 we moved from our country home of 14 years back to the suburbs from whence we came. The relatively small suburban area we had left 14 years ago had exploded with people, subdivisions—and churches. Believing that we should worship and serve in the community in which we live, we began to visit churches.
Anyone who’s a 75-year old evangelical Christian as I am, can probably relate to the disheartening experience of visiting church after church with shallow teaching, no hymnals, no pew Bibles, no pews, no choir, no organ, no piano, big screens, and very loud worship bands whose drummers have to be surrounded by sound barriers. (One church we visited even had a basket of ear plugs at the door to make your worship experience more pleasant.) And, oh yes, most had an “optional” early morning service for us unyielding old folk who are stayed in our ways. So, we settled on a United Methodist church in our neighborhood just several blocks from our home with a “traditional” service, a choir, an organ, a piano (sometimes an orchestra), a pew Bible, a hymnal, a bit of liturgy, monthly communion, and lots of gray hairs. My daughter and her husband and 3 children attended with us but went to a “contemporary” service. We were there for close to 6 years, but were never really content. We talked about it. Sometimes grumbled about it. But we didn’t do anything about it because, well, what’s the use. It is what it is, right? A few weeks ago, we began to visit around—again.
I had a sort of mental list of what I was looking for in a church—bible believing; evangelistic; good bible teaching from the pulpit (a pastor who saw the importance of teaching biblical truth and the wonderful doctrines of our faith, but not dogmatic, rigid or legalistic); perhaps some liturgy; maybe communion every Sunday or at least once a month; maybe a smaller church with a sweet family feel to it; appreciation for the gray haired but with the vitality that comes with young adults and families with children; a congregation that was representative of the whole people of God—rich, poor, black, white, brown, male, female, young, old—all held together in one harmonious body by their common faith in Jesus and His Word. Oh, and where the gifts of the Spirit are freed to flourish for the building up of the body of Christ.
That’s not much to ask. Is it?
Of course, I realized that I wouldn’t find all that in one church. I speak for myself because my husband is not so idealistic about the church or perhaps, I should say, not so critical. But, several weeks ago, we did begin to visit again and to pray in earnest that God would guide us to a church where we actually wanted to be. Last week we visited a church that we had visited twice before in our previous search and nixed. My husband was pleased. I thought it was— okay. We went there again this morning.
This morning, I was surprised by joy!
This morning I felt that God gave me the desires of my heart! Did he check off everything on my list? Of course, He didn’t! But as I sat in my chair in this huge auditorium-like church with loud music, my heart was unexpectedly filled with such a joy in worship. Inexpressible joy! I could only weep. I looked all around me and I saw the Body of Christ–people of every color, ethnicity, age. They were filled with joy! Love! Excitement! Expectation! Worship! I looked over at my daughter and her family after the service visiting with people, laughing, talking—joyful! After the service my husband and I went up to the front of the church to introduce ourselves to the pastor. In front of us was a man who had brought his nine or ten-year-old son up. The boy had questions for the pastor. In his little hand was his children’s bible. It was opened to Genesis chapter 1. He pointed as he read two different verses regarding “the waters” that confused him. And this pastor, with all his knowledge, with other people waiting in line to see him, and 33 baptisms awaiting him outside, joyfully answered all the boy’s questions as though he had all the time in the world to spend with him and no one and nothing else mattered.
This morning I was reminded of something I learned long ago—that God is not moved by our check list. He is moved to give us the desires of our heart that are hidden behind that checklist.
“Great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised; and his greatness is unsearchable.”
Psalm 145:3
“As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all.”
Ecclesiastes 11:5,