The blue screen of death: we’ve all experienced it. You’re plugging away on a paper or trying to load a website and whammo, your computer is toast. A few minutes and a hard restart later, you are back up and running, but not without consequences. You might have lost your train of thought or part of what you wrote. Ironically, I experienced the blue screen of death writing this post!

Covid-19 was a cultural blue screen of death. Work, school, and church rhythms were all disrupted. And all of them have changed as a result. People’s connection to church has changed. Nearly every pastor I’ve spoken with affirms lower church attendance today than eighteen months ago.

For some, the blue screen of Covid made them re-think how important church is.

More than a handful, however, have decided that other spiritual practices can take the place of church. Jen Hatmaker recently shared about a conversation she had with her therapist where she came to the realization that “Church for me right now feels like my best friends, my porch bed, my children, and my parents and my siblings. It feels like meditations and all these leaves on my 12 pecan trees. It feels like Ben Rector on repeat. It feels like my kitchen, and my table, and my porch. It feels like Jesus who never asked me to meet him anywhere but in my heart.”

Others have decided to cut themselves off from church due to their frustration with what they perceive the church to be. The thread of tweets between Laura Chastain and Andrew Novell captures the spirit of those who feel disappointed by the church.

I will respond briefly to those who have left church for reasons similar to those in the tweets by Lauren Chastain and Andrew Novell, and then I will circle back and respond to Jen Hatmaker’s reasons for leaving the church.

Chastain and Novell first accuse the church of being less kind and understanding than those in the world. They then charge the church with having a non-impactful mission. For example, Novell says, “Serving the church correctly [does not equal] volunteering for a wealthy non profit’s [sic] coffee bar, or parking cars, or baby sitting [sic] kids once a week.”  Their charges may be spot on with the churches they’ve attended. If you’ve experienced hurt or disappointment with church, I’m so sorry.  I understand how that would turn you off to the church. The church ought not to be known for its judgmentalism nor its selfishness. It’s heartbreaking when she is.

On the other hand, I wonder if Chastain and Novell might misunderstand what they experienced at church. The lack of kindness and understanding that Chastain experienced at church might not be a mark against the church. As Christians, we hold the counter-cultural belief that we are sinners in need of both grace and transformation. That requires hard truths be spoken. This, of course, doesn’t excuse churches that forget the “love” half of the invocation to speak the truth in love (Eph. 4:15). But it does mean that we might have to wrestle with uncomfortable truth.

In Hebrews we are told that part of the purpose of us gathering together is to receive exhortation from one another. The author urges us, “But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ that none of you may be hardened to the deceitfulness of sin” (Heb. 3:13). We long to be affirmed. Our culture tells us that affirmation is love and criticism is hate. The biblical perspective offers more nuance. There are times those who love us confront us because they love us too much to let us remain in our sin.

Similarly, I wonder if Novell might have a misunderstanding of gospel ministry. Surely, a church must minister to the least of these in its neighborhood (those who are in jail, foster children, immigrants, those who are battling addiction or joblessness, etc.). But the biblical vision of gospel ministry is fully orbed and also includes hospitality and caring for children. So, yes, greeting people in the parking lot, serving coffee, and caring for toddlers is meaningful ministry. Jesus cared for all the Father brought into his path: the powerful, the powerless, the rich, the poor, the religious, the possessed. Jesus, in a similar way, calls the church to love the homeless and the banker, the deacon’s children and the addict.

Finally, let me turn to Jen Hatmaker, whose argument depends not so much on the way that the church has failed her but rather on the fact that she feels that Jesus “never asked me to meet him anywhere but in my heart.” I believe that Hatmaker’s reasons resonate with many Christians who have left the church or attend irregularly.

I empathize with what I think is behind Hatmaker’s comments. Many of us are worn out. We are busy and tired. Why would we add another obligation to our calendar? Church is tiring. It asks of you. It requires relationships with people you don’t get to pick. Sitting on my back porch is restful. Doesn’t God want me to rest? Doesn’t he want me to be around people who re-charge me?[i]

And yet, Hatmaker is mistaken that Jesus never asks us to meet him anywhere but in our hearts. Christians of all types, ethnicities throughout history have vehemently disagreed with this argument. The twentieth-century British theologian John Stott once said, “An unchurched Christian is a grotesque anomaly. New Testament knows nothing of such a person. For the church lies at the very center of the eternal purpose of God. It is not a divine afterthought.” Cyprian of Carthage, a third-century bishop once said, “Outside the church there is no salvation.”

The Bible doesn’t exist without the church. Look at the 27 books in the New Testament and you find that the vast majority are written to the church or about the church. Paul writes to the churches at Rome, Corinth, Galatia, Ephesus, Philippi, Colossae, and Thessalonica. James, Peter, and John all write their letters to the church. Hebrews was written to the church.

When Jesus ascends to heaven and sends his Holy Spirit, the work of the Holy Spirit draws people into community and forms the church. In the book of Acts we watch this fledgling community take shape and see that a relationship with Jesus is inseparable from a relationship with the church. The final scene of celebration in the Bible is of Christ the bridegroom meeting his bride (Rev. 21): the bride is the collective church.

The biblical admonitions toward Christians are indecipherable without the local church. We are to “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matt. 28:19), “love [our] enemies, and do good,” (Luke 6:33), “bear with one another in love,” (Eph 4:2), “maintain the unity of the Spirit,” (Eph. 4:3), “forgive” one another (Col. 3:13), not neglect “to meet together,” “let brotherly love continue” (Heb. 13:1), and to “show no partiality,” (James 2:1). This, of course, is only the tip of the iceberg. God has gifted us by his Spirit for the benefit of the local church (1 Cor. 12:7).  Your local church is the place where God intends those he has rescued from diverse backgrounds to be “baptized into one body” (1 Cor. 12:13). Our friendships with Christians outside the context of the local church are good but cannot accomplish these purposes of God.

If you’ve left the church but love Jesus, can you pinpoint what is holding you back from his church? What hurts need to be healed? Where has your thinking about its value changed? Why is that?

We need the church, and the church needs us. This is what Jesus designed us for, and it’s how he purposed the path of following him. Come back to the church.

[i] These reflections were prompted by my sister’s response to Hatmaker’s comments. 

Photo by KEEM IBARRA on Unsplash