The Search for a Home Church

I wish finding a home church were an easy endeavor. I wish it were like "love at first sight," when I'd just know if a church was the right one for me.

I must be a very picky person. I'm not sure what I have in mind for a home church, but at the same time, I know what I wouldn't like in a home church.

Not that I have a wide basis for comparison. In all my years as a believer, there's been only one church I referred to as a "home church." It was distinguished as such in my mind, because I came to know the pastor and his family, and his particular method for his sermons and services.

I knew all the worship songs by heart. I came to know the other leaders. I knew all the families in the congregation. I participated in the women's ministry, served in the choir and in the nursery. I felt completely comfortable there. I knew what to expect.

Through that one "home church," I was also first exposed to the weaknesses in a church body. I learned my fellow Christians were still capable of profanity, conceit, and pride. They were still capable of treating each other horribly, lying to each other, making poor and selfish choices. And I was still vulnerable to being treated badly, too.

That experience didn't make me a cynic or cause me to doubt God's holiness or purposes. Even after the first shock of being yelled at by the worship leader.

(To make a long story short...

I was working in a sandwich shop, and the worship leader's wife came in late to pick up some cookies. When I told her we'd run out, she got very worried and asked to use the phone. She called her husband (the worship leader) and told him the bad news.

The next thing I knew, she held out the phone to me and said, "He wants to talk to you."

The worship leader said, "Are you serious? You're out of chocolate chip cookies?"

"I'm afraid so," I said.

"Well, that's crap," he said.

I thought he was joking, so I laughed. "Yes-sir. I just sold the last one."

"No, no, don't give me that. How can you be out of chocolate chip cookies? That's ridiculous. Your sign says you have cookies; you're supposed to have cookies. I'm supposed to be able to send my wife in there to get some, and you're supposed to have them...," and on and on and on.

It took a few seconds for me to realize he was serious, and angry with me--angry that I didn't have chocolate chip cookies.

Of course, I've never been one to handle confrontation well anyway, but in this particular instance, I was caught so off-guard, I really didn't know what to do.

His wife looked at me sympathetically, and she was obviously embarrassed, because she knew who I was, I knew who she was, and we both knew I knew who he was.)

But like I said, that experience didn't make me a cynic or cause me to doubt God's holiness or purposes. Even after the first shock of being yelled at by the worship leader.

What it did do was help me realize the church is not a perfectly functioning, spotless entity. The people in the congregation are not perfect and spotless. I couldn't expect them to be, unless I expected to be perfect and spotless myself. But I'm not, and I know they can't be either.

However, that experience did cause me to evaluate what I would expect in a home church, and that standard is a genuine, Christ-seeking leadership. Kindness, prayer, a total reliance on God and His word. I know that's not too much to ask, but I also know I'm no expert at recognizing that in a leader.

So, I've prayed and prayed for many years to find a home church. I've visited a few.

At the first one, the pastor was kind, but the messages fell a bit flat for me. The congregation seemed a bit too content for my taste, so I didn't go back.

At the next one, the pastor was a bit too focused on the men in the congregation, and I guess I just couldn't very well identify with his fervent love for sports, especially as he drew on his love for sports for most of his analogies.

The last one I visited, the congregation was so large, I felt utterly lost in the pews. The people were kind enough. The leadership was genuine and enthusiastic. And the church certainly wasn't at a loss for ministries and activities. But it was just way too overwhelming for me.

What do I envision?

I suppose I'd like to be a part of a smaller congregation...one where I wouldn't get lost in the pew, and I could make a real difference when I find my opportunity to serve.

I pray for a pastor who may have quite a few years behind him, but isn't so distant from the nature of the present generation that he can't relate and struggles to be relevant.

Having the kids attend services with me on Sunday is so, so important to me. I know how much they love children's church, but having that family time together to hear the word...so important.

And I wouldn't want all the ministries and activities to become so weighty on the church's agenda that it draws away from keeping the body strong and right and in Him. It's so easy to get caught up in barbecues and fun days and coffees and classes.

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We got an invitation in the mail today to attend a Christmas festival and performance at the big (big. big. BIG.) church downtown. I have no doubt it's a great church, but it may be too great for me.

There's also a little church the girls' friend goes to. It sounds like a sweet congregation, mid-sized. But it's a denominational church, and I just don't know if I could be comfortable there.

All this wondering and comparing and contrasting. All these questions and concerns, as if it were entirely up to me. As if it's ever been entirely up to me.

There's a reason I put this decision in God's hands so long ago, and there's a reason why He hasn't answered yet. In any case, I'm putting it at the top of my prayer list: God, please give us a home church.