Why I Stopped Going to Church

And Other Acts of Christian Disobedience

By Charles Moore

Going to church is a trap—a first-class web of deception. No, what follows is not a diatribe. I love the church too much to cut it to pieces. But shock treatment is sometimes necessary when one is stricken with a serious disorder. And when it comes to the way we do church today, nothing less than major deconstruction is needed.

Going to church is less an act and more a mentality. It is a way of thinking, a paradigm within which one approaches the Christian life itself. Within the “church system” is intertwined a web of interrelated practices: worship services, sermons, offerings, prayers, hymn singing, spiritual instruction and other religious undertakings, all occurring at a given time and in a place deemed holy or special apart from private life. Along with this package comes a clergy, those who are paid for performing religious services, and a laity, the rest of us who perform our religious duty by supporting those who keep the church running. Little of this has anything to do with being the church described in the New Testament.

Take away the pulpit and the pews, the audio-visual system, the pastor’s salary, the praise band, the bulletin, the tithes and offerings and Sunday school, and what is left of the modern church? Jesus told his critics that the temple would be destroyed, only to be raised up again. But was he thinking in terms of steeples and stadiums, or of a people in whom the Spirit dwells? If the Spirit gives birth to the church, and if genuine worship is “in spirit and in truth”(John 4:24), then where are the edifices, vestments, rituals, and hymnals on that first Pentecost? We won’t find any. Instead we read about fire, wind, power, food, joy, unanimity and sharing—in short, a communism of love (Acts 2 and 4).

When was the last time you went to church at an undesignated hour? If you had I bet you found the building empty (except, perhaps, for a secretary and janitor). Ah, you’re thinking, this is because believers aren’t supposed to be caged within the four walls of some sanctuary. Their task is to disperse themselves, and fulfill their various callings in society as salt and light.

True, life together in Christ extends far beyond the confines of stained glass windows. But this notion of dispersion is tricky. For with dispersion a general state of diffusion has crept in—a condition in which the “church” has lost its distinct identity as a community under the rulership of God.

This is why I stopped “going to church.” For the church is not an institution, or an event, and least of all a building. Rather it is distinguished by the kind of relationships its members have with one another. It’s not about suits and ties, or about sermons and singing, but about a radical realignment of relationships governed by Christ’s lordship. It is, in Bonhoeffer’s words, life together in Christ.

There is much talk today about an emergent church, one that is more authentic, relational, liquid, culturally relevant, organic and missional. This is a church that works for nonbelievers, where unnecessary barriers of traditional church are removed, via alternative worship gatherings, while at the same time integrating the spiritual in the warp and woof of everyday existence, by practicing the Divine Hours, for example. This is encouraging. But in too many cases, these postmodern alternatives confuse the symptom for the cause. The church is still conceived as another structure, albeit sacred, along side those of family, work, neighborhood, education, etc. The church is an add-on to real life in the world.

The biblical notion of church, the “ekklesia,” however, is far more radical. It is a community that is called out, called together and called forth—a community in which the presence of the risen Christ transforms existence itself. Church is the locus of Christ’s ongoing work of reconciliation and redemption, where people exhibit a new way of living together as an expression of their new life in Christ. Church is not about what gets proclaimed by a preacher or taught by an instructor. It’s not just songs, sacraments and ceremonies. The church is what gets lived out in daily life by a people who bind themselves together to live for God’s kingdom of unity, justice and peace.

Contrary to popular wisdom, the first words about the Christian life are not about what we as individuals can experience, but about the kind of society God intends. The gospel, or good news, is that in Christ, God’s coming kingdom is breaking into the here and now—in the depths of the believer’s heart, but also in the world itself. This kingdom encompasses economic, material, psychological, political, social and spiritual existence.

The gospel is not that there is still more to come in the future. It’s not about going to heaven when we die, or about being forgiven now and awaiting freedom later. It’s not about experiencing the sacred in the midst of the secular. Neither is it a new teaching or a new moral code. It is the promised “power of God for salvation” (Romans 1:16)—a power that frees us from all that opposes God and his will and all that alienates us from ourselves and each other. This power frees us to live according God’s original plan, where selfless sharing, justice, mutuality, respect, trust, forgiveness and joyful community become realized. As Norman Kraus puts it, “The gospel message is that promise is now becoming reality. The gospel message—new life—and the gospel medium—a new people—are simultaneously one.”

That’s why I stopped attending worship services, ceased tithing, and basically quit doing Sunday mornings (and also Wednesday nights). For what do I ultimately owe God? Everything, including my body (Romans 12:1). But how can I show this if I keep back what I perceive as mine, instead of seeing it as belonging to his body, the church? When am I to pay God homage? Always. But how is this possible if I wait for some “hour of power”—be it divine or otherwise—while much of my day is governed by priorities dictated by consumer values and competitive self-interest? Where am I to bow my will and talents to the one who is master of all? Wherever I am. But none of this makes much sense unless I surrender every area of my life to God’s new order. In short, how does the private life, with all its accoutrements of personal property, autonomous decision-making and self-betterment, coincide with the “more excellent way” of love to one’s brothers and sisters?

On the day of Pentecost the Spirit began something entirely new. The people who heard Peter that day were cut to the heart and exclaimed: “What shall we do to be saved?” Peter’s answer? “Repent and be baptized.” And with many other words he warned them; and he pleaded with them, “Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.” Those who embraced his message were baptized and joined the fellowship of Jesus’ disciples (Acts 2:37-41). What did all this mean? One thing is clear. Those being saved declared their allegiance to Christ by throwing in their lot with the original apostolic band. They didn’t just “receive Jesus into their hearts,” and then decide to attend worship services in Jerusalem. No, they declared and defined their allegiance to the Kingdom by joining themselves with God’s new society—with those whose lives were marked by an altogether different way of living where heart, soul, house and property were shared.

God’s goal for human history is a universal community under his love. Paul refers to this as “the reconciliation of all things” in Christ (Eph. 1:10). Going to church is a far cry from realizing such a cosmic plan. It may make us feel more religious and closer to God and to each other, or it may enable us to become more familiar with the Bible, but it fails to encompass the meaning and purpose of the church. Unless we find ways of building up a life together—daily, material, face-to-face life—that counters the spirit of this age, going to church, be it in a shopping mall or in a cathedral, is both a diversion and defection. It vivisects Christ, the head, from his body, the church, and relegates him to some realm entirely out of our orbit, thereby reducing his body to a few vital organs stripped of flesh and bone.

If Christ left his prerogative as God to become a human slave (Philip. 2:5-8), what are we going to let go of to become his body? We have a lot of changing to do if the world is ever going to see Christ in us. Much of this will depend on whether we become an answer to Jesus’ prayer for unity or not (John 17:21-23). This is the task of the church: to show the world, by the way we are as God’s people, that unhindered communion is possible in all things. It’s not just a question of believing it, but of doing it.

http://www.bruderhof.com/articles/What-Is-Church.htm