I just sat down and read his brand-new book Stop Dating the Church: Fall in Love with the Family of God in one sitting. Wow. It’s another must-read, folks.
I was born on Thursday, September 22nd, was carried to church on Sunday the 25th, and have attended the same church every Sunday since then. For a while, when our church was going through some hard times I attended evening services and youth group at another church to get some extra support and fellowship, but through the last 21 years I’ve gone to the same church.
I guess I’m not what you’d call your typical church-dater. In fact, I even wrote an article once called “Church Membership is Like Marriage–A Commitment!” (but under a pseudonym so no one would get upset with me 
). However, though I’ve gone to my church for 21 years, I’ve never become a member. I always figured I’d join my husband’s church when I got married. Guess what? That hasn’t happened yet. 
Josh’s book has inspired me to renew my commitment to my church, to get more involved, and to be more available to serve. (Even though I always wonder why in the world I agreed to substitute teach for the 4-and-5-year-old class, they do make it worthwhile by their many hugs.)
Josh pastors what could be called a “mega-church”; his dad travels the country promoting small family-centered churches; and I attend a church of 150 in a town of 685 (which boasts six churches). Thus I wasn’t sure if the message of the book would apply, or if I’d agree. But Josh Harris is one of my favorite authors because he writes from a balanced, biblical perspective that doesn’t promote a lot of rules or give a lot of details–he reminds us of the basic truths in God’s Word and inspires us to take the next step and live it out individually.
So let me tell you about my church… My first-grade Sunday School teacher is a bit more stooped over than she was when I was in first grade, but she is still just as glad to see me. One of my favorite couples sits in the second pew, in their mid-eighties but still holding hands. My little four-year-old friend Mary comes to give me a hug and admire my necklace every Sunday. The man who takes prayer requests somehow started a joke last month about my mom riding a Harley–the visitors don’t understand, but those who know Mom laugh every time it’s brought up. I’m kind of protective when the boys I grew up with in Sunday School start getting girlfriends I’ve never met, but I’m very ready to play matchmaker for my childhood girl friend who gives me a hug and smile every Sunday at church. My pastor reminds me a lot of President Bush–he’s even a Texan. (Did you know that Jesus said y’all and people in the Bible are fixin’ to do things? I didn’t until Pastor Bill came! ) One dear man lost his wife several years ago, and when I seek him out each week to give him a hug, he promises me he’ll have a good week just for me.
Of course my grandparents go to my church, so do some of my cousins, and so many other dear people I’ve gotten to know over the years. I have my special group of “little old people” that I have to find to give hugs each week. But some aren’t there anymore. Some have been “promoted” to the next Sunday School class: Heaven. Others aren’t able to get to church anymore. Like my friend with Parkinson’s. When he would still come to church, I’d go over to talk to him, my cold hands holding his shaking ones the while. He’d try to quote the saying, “Cold hands, warm heart,” but he could never remember the last part. I miss having him there each Sunday.
Each of these people, and so many more, comprise the church body I have come to know and love over my 21 years. I’ve seen many of them leave when things got rough and later come back again. And when anyone mentions looking for a new church, I’m quick to remind them that if we ever found a perfect church we’d make it imperfect by joining it. I may not always like the music, but I’ve known the drummer since he was a baby. And sometimes I feel alone since there are so few singles my age at my church, but then I go find one of my old people to talk to. Sometimes I may feel smothered by the well-meaning matchmakers, but then I remember how incredible it is to have grown up in this same church, where the same people not only babysat me, but babysat my dad as well! They may have quirks, but they’re the most lovable and quirky bunch of people I’m blessed to know.
Are you dating the church? Or have you discovered the joy of commitment to your church?
thanks for writing this. i discovered it while researching for a class i will be teaching this coming semester.