A Jeep In Summer

I've attended your church since my first semester at Covenant, which would make me starting in on my fourth year here. I've actually kind of given up on finding any kind of intimacy - social or spiritual - at church. There are several reasons for this. On an immediate practical level, I seem to be fairly unlike most of the rest of the congregation in terms of interests and inclinations, which makes striking up casual conversation difficult (and I've never like casual conversation anyway). Besides, most of my friends attend church elsewhere, the majority of them at Cornerstone OPC. But more importantly, I think Josiah is right. The community there does not seem to involve iron sharpening iron except in terms of theological pissing contests. Not being married makes one a second class citizen, and being a college student to boot kicks one down another notch.

All of that being said, I would not trade the worship there for anything in the world, and I am not looking forward to having to find a new church when I leave Chattanooga. The liturgy is amazing and the preaching is, well, I don't have to tell you.

This is my two cents for the whole "church community" discussion, which I've seen on any number of blogs. I've wrestled with these concerns. In fact, my church now has serious difficulties in these areas (theirs are not demographic so much as family-oriented; if you're not in one of the main families, you're just not really "in"). It's exceedingly tempting to just throw up my hands and give up.

The key is to realize that community is not a right; it is an obligation. We ought not to focus on what we wish we had; rather, we should focus on what we ought to do.

Yes, it would be lovely if there was this church somewhere that featured multitudes of intimate relationships that crossed all demographic boundaries. But why should somebody who has _genuine insights_ into what community should look like even want to be in such a church? To be served? To be comfortable? To feel safe? Instead, such a person should commit to a local church that he can serve, teach, and help to sanctify.

So, each and every member of the church is _obligated_ to pursue relationships that cross demograhic boundaries. There is no Jew or Greek. But why think this task will be solved in a month? A year? Ten years? A lifetime? This may take generations! In fact, it will never see full expression until heaven!

To put it bluntly, all we're really doing here is discovering sin in others (in the form of selfish lack of hospitality, say) and then acting all shocked. (Come on guys, every church has its blind spots. Let's not act all surprised. And let's not be so flippant and triumphalistic in our criticisms. --ed.)

My mom always told me "if you want to have a friend, then BE a friend. If you want to experience hospitality, then BE hospitable." The Bible does not teach us that we have a right to some sort of form of hospitality or community. Rather, it obligates us to provide such _for others_.

And remember, you may not see the real fruit of such effort any time in the near future. The key is to _serve_ the church to which you are committed. This involves committed hard work.

So our task is clear. Pick someone in the church whom you respect and who is quite a bit different from you, and pursue the fullness of the relationship that is _already yours_ in Christ. Better yet, pick some one on the fringes or periphery, so to speak, and pursue a relationship with him or her.

Well, right or wrong, this is how I've been counselling my self and my wife the last few weeks.

Mike, I hear you. Thanks for articulating things that other people usually just swallow. Keep it up.