God's church. My community.

I hear a lot of sermons. The cumulative effect keeps me grounded within the Christian community but most of them pass over me with little impact on an individual basis. Each is one person’s attempt to interpret the message of the Bible and apply it to my life. It’s the time I spend actually reading the Bible with openness to being changed by it that has greater impact on my life, along with carefully-selected books.

Sermons, however, leave echoes in my mind. One of those ehoes has been reinforced multiple times: “It’s not your church; it’s God’s church.” This is used as a rebuke to those saying this or that about “my church” and is said by the same people who remind us, “It’s not about you.” The idea is to discourage power struggles in the church by lessening the sense of ownership.

I recently wrote something about my community and the echo popped up with a slight modification. Is it my community? I tried to think of how that phrase could denote an unhealthy sense of ownership. I couldn’t quite get there. Who could ever claim to own a community in the sense of having authority over it? A mayor? A police chief? Anyone less than a liege lord? Obviously, I’m none of those and I’m not claiming blanket authority when I refer to “my community”. Rather, I am identifying myself with the people living around me, primarily those in the local public school district. I have chosen to make my home among them and to be part of the common life they represent. It’s not simply the community in which my family lives as outsiders, keeping some separate identity. It’s part of who we are. It’s the community my husband and I have chosen to embrace as home for the past 27 years and for which we take some sense of responsibility, not because we own it but because it has taken us in and we owe it loyalty and generosity. It’s my community, and building it up by every means available to me is to my own benefit.

Those same sorts of things could be said about the local church of which I have been an active member for the entire 27 years I’ve been part of the local community. It’s “my church” in that I have chosen to identify myself with it and to take some measure of responsibility for its welfare. I owe it loyalty and generous support. I work to make it better. Building up the church is mutually beneficial to all involved.

When I talk about my community and look for ways to make it a better place to live, doors open wide with opportunities for me. I am the director of the only public library district within the school district. I represent the community on the county adult literacy council. I could do much more if I had more time. No one ever says to me, “It’s not your community. We don’t need your interference here.”

In contrast, if I mention “my church” and look for ways to make it a better center for Christian worship, the echoes pop up and remind me that it’s not my church. There are service opportunities there but no roles equivalent to those offered to me by the broader community. It’s God’s church and He hasn’t chosen me for His leadership team.

I’m finding that I’m slowly adjusting my viewpoint to accept this message that the church I attend and of which I am an official member is not my church. The challenges facing leadership are daunting and, if there is a way out of the wilderness in which we’re wandering, finding it will require significant wisdom and insight. I would gladly accept an invitation to be part of a team effort to find that elusive path. That invitation has not been issued, either formally or informally. My views are too radical by local standards to make me a good candidate for the leadership team of a rural, conservative, evangelical (dying) church.

Combining the message that it’s not my church with that lack of invitation to be a part of the leadership team leaves me with little choice other than to let it go and drop all sense of responsibility for the future of the church. It’s not my church. I’m not responsible for what happens there.

On the other hand, the church-of-which-I-am-an-active-member-but-which-is-not-mine is part of my community. One way to serve the community is to serve within the church as I am able and to share the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ that is at the core of the church. I believe that the best thing I can do for my community is to take the good news from the church out of its stale, musty housing and offer it to those outside its walls. The church may be dying but the good news of reconciliation with the God of the universe through Jesus Christ and the resulting life of grace and peace is as fresh and welcome and vital in the 21st century as ever.

God’s church. My community. I think it’s time for me to leave the church in God’s hands and focus on the people who are willing to be part of my community.

Comments, anyone?