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Visiting Churches

Visiting 52 Churches, Part Three

A Recap of Churches 27 through 44

The churches are starting to blur. Every week seems the same, offering only slight variations on a theme. I’m growing weary of our journey. I’ve realized this for a few weeks but didn’t want to admit it.

Yes, I still notice kindnesses offered and innovations presented at the various branches of Jesus’s church. But I worry that I notice more the actions that discourage me and disparage the reputation of my savior.

Have I become cynical? Am I truly able to see what God wants me to see?

My prayers before we leave for church lack freshness. Have they become vain repetition? Matthew 6:7 in the KJV says, “But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that they shall be heard for their much speaking.”

My anticipation for the service is no longer as expectant, yet God prevails and teaches me anyway.

For the first half of our journey, I picked our destinations solely by the driving distance from our home.

But heading in different directions each Sunday became disconcerting, making it challenging to synthesize an understanding of congregations within communities.

In retrospect, I should have divided our fifty-two churches into four groups: those within our local school district, those in the village to our west, those in the village to the southwest of us, and those on the western edge of the city to our east.

For the third part of our adventure we focused on the first three of these geographic areas, while remaining within ten miles of our house. This allowed us to better comprehend the churches within their local context.

The village to our west has twenty-one churches. We visited twelve in the first half of our journey, calling on the remaining nine for this phase (Churches #27–36). Together they comprise a wide-ranging group, offering an array of options.

Next, we turned our attention to the village to our southwest, with its five churches (#37–41). Although one was struggling, the other four weren’t.

They were vibrant and growing, each with its unique appeal and offering a different approach to worshiping God.

To conclude this phase of our sojourn, we visited the remaining three churches in our local school district (Churches #42–44).

Along with Churches 1 through 7, these ten churches are noteworthy because our local food pantry serves people living in the school district. Sometimes pantry clients ask me about area churches.

Now that I’ve visited all ten, I can share firsthand information, directing people to the one that best meets their needs and preferences.

Some of our clients attend church outside of the area, and I’ve seen them at several of the gatherings we’ve visited. I have mixed feelings about this.

Part of me wishes each congregation would care for the needs of their own, while the other part of me would decry each church replicating the same program.

Having an area food pantry is not only practical, but it’s also a great community service, with five of the district’s ten churches involved in a truly ecumenical outreach.

Greeting and Community

At the halfway point in our journey, I noted the importance of community, with some churches excelling at it, a few failing, and most falling somewhere in between.

The prelude to community is greeting. Churches that greet well embrace visitors and foster connections.

Liturgical churches, I observed, struggle with greeting and fail at community.

Fortunately, this isn’t an absolute principle, merely a tendency. Church #43 (A Welcoming Church with Much to Offer) and Church #32 (Commitment Sunday and Celebration) proved liturgical churches can greet well and foster meaningful community.

Church #43 excelled at this, perhaps even more so than the non-liturgical Church #22 (A Caring Community). Two other non-liturgical churches that greeted well were Church #38 (A Refreshing Time) and Church #41 (People Make the Difference).

I’d like to revisit them all, simply because of the amazing way they greeted, welcoming us into their community. We made connections. We had relevant conversations. We shared a spiritual camaraderie.

There are three opportunities to greet visitors: before, during, and after the service. Churches need to master all three. Few do, but Church #43 did.

Two churches ignored us beforehand and had no greeting time during the service, but they did embrace us afterward: Church #28 (Intriguing and Liturgical) and Church #35 (A Well-Kept Secret).

But it’s hard to overcome a bad first impression. While Church #28 did, enough so that I want to return, Church #35 didn’t.

The opposite error is not ending well. Church #27 (A Charismatic Experience) ignored us afterward. With no one who approached us and no one available for us to approach, we had two choices: stand there and look pathetic or leave. We left.

Then, one church, a non-liturgical one, failed at all three opportunities: they ignored us. This was Church #31 (A Day of Contrasts). It was as if we were invisible.

Though their service was most impressive, their cold demeanor isolated us, effectively pushing us out the door as soon as the service ended.

Yes, they did have two assigned greeters at the front door, but the personable pair couldn’t overcome the 150 indifferent people inside.

Yes, greeting well is important. Without it, visitors cannot hope to find community. So why would they want to come back?

Highs and Lows of Our Journey

Overall, our time at charismatic gatherings continues to disappoint.

While Church #27 (A Charismatic Experience) came close to providing a true charismatic encounter—or at least my perception of one—they also had some disconcerting shortcomings, including a rambling message and not being friendly.

The narrow doctrine at Church #34 (Acts Chapter Two) and Church #36 (The Surprise) especially dismayed me.

Like Church #14 (The Pentecostal Perspective), they placed an unbiblical emphasis on speaking in tongues, viewing it as a requirement to signify true salvation.

Church #42 (High Expectations and Great Disappointment) went to the opposite extreme, dismissing charismatic followers of Jesus as heretics and doing so with a most dogmatic fervor.

The way these otherwise well-meaning clergy divide Jesus’s church grieves me.

This error, of rejecting other Christians because they fail to meet some personally held opinion, is perhaps the biggest shortcoming we’ve seen at any of the churches.

I wonder if they’ve lost their first love. (Consider John’s stinging rebuke in Revelation 2:4–5 against the church in Ephesus). Do they truly comprehend what it means to follow Jesus? I seriously doubt it.

Conversely, Church #29 (Led by Laity) greatly encouraged me; they conducted their entire service without any clergy. I wish more churches would follow their example.

I beg churches to do so. Through Jesus we are all priests. We shouldn’t need ministers to do for us what we’re supposed to do ourselves. (See 1 Peter 2:5, 9 as a starting point.)

In considering Church #37 (Another Small Church), sometimes a church just needs to close. This church has more people on the outside trying to save it, than there are local people who attend.

Yes, God can do the impossible, but without a clear instruction from him to persevere, the wise action, the prudent option, is to simply shut down and stop wasting resources on an unpromising situation.

Interestingly, there was once local interest for this church to merge with another, but their respective denominations wouldn’t permit it. Their decision was self-serving and not kingdom-focused.

Lastly, some churches, despite many good traits and positive elements, showed us some bizarre practices:

  • Greeting strangers with a holy kiss was creepy, Church #28 (Intriguing and Liturgical).
  • Church #30 (Misdirected and Frustrated) duped us into attending Sunday school and angered me.
  • Avoiding all forms of promotion made them hard to find, Church #35 (A Well-Kept Secret). We stumbled upon them by accident.
  • Cancelling services because the minister was called away disappointed us, Church #36 (The Surprise). Hold services anyway. Church #29 (Led by Laity) did.
  • Having a dirty sanctuary made me reluctant to sit down, Church #37 (Another Small Church). The overall neglected condition of their facility didn’t help.
  • Heading to a restaurant after the service was interesting but unusual. Arming us all with coupons may not have left the best impression on the restaurant staff, Church #39 (A Great Way to End the Year).

Takeaway for Everyone: Set divisive theology aside and celebrate commonality in Jesus. Seek ways to work with other churches, not oppose them.

[Check out the discussion questions for this post about our journey of visiting 52 churches, along with two more questions that precede it.]

My wife and I visited a different Christian Church every Sunday for a year. This is our story. Get your copy of 52 Churches today, available in ebook, paperback, hardcover, and audiobook.

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.

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Visiting Churches

52 Churches: The Second Quarter

Preparing to Visit Our Next 13 Churches

Going forward in our journey of visiting 52 Churches, we may bypass more churches on our list to vary the scope of our adventure.

So far, we’ve skipped one that wasn’t a Christian gathering and another because they were in limbo, pending a turnaround.

The next thirteen churches on our list promise a wider variation of experience. This excites me. I also see some churches we’ll exclude because they don’t hold much promise for additional variation.

52 Churches: A Yearlong Journey Encountering God, His Church, and Our Common Faith

Our journey is about growth and discovery, not about thoroughly covering every option in a precise order.

Though we have a plan, the plan is flexible.

Takeaway for Everyone: Plan, but be flexible. Fixating on the plan, as well as having no plan, will miss opportunities that arise.

[Check out the discussion questions for this post.]


Part Two Perspective: Churches 14 through 26

We’re now half done with our journey. For the past twenty-six weeks we’ve sought to expand our understanding of how others worship God. I blog about our visit each Monday morning, but friends frequently ask for more.

“What are you learning?”

“That God’s church is more diverse and varied than I ever imagined.”

“Is your journey changing?”

“No. We’re still planning to return to our home church when we’re done.”

“Do you want to revisit any of the churches?”

“Yes.” I start to reel off a list along with my reasons, but they don’t seem interested in the details. Why do they ask if they don’t care about the answers?

Aside from these questions, a sobering realization is that church is not about the teaching or the music. It’s about community.

52 Churches: A Yearlong Journey Encountering God, His Church, and Our Common Faith

We’ve heard messages from gifted speakers and those not-so-talented, the formally trained and the self-taught.

We’ve heard deep thoughts and entertaining fluff. But in all cases, we received a worthwhile word from God. I suspect if we pray expectantly and are open to hear, we will.

Similarly, we’ve sung traditional hymns, modern songs, and contemporary praise choruses. Accomplished vocalists, struggling crooners, and everything in between have led us in worship.

There have been worship bands, pipe organs and pianos, accompaniment tracks, recorded songs, and even a cappella. If we focus on the words, we praise God regardless of musical style.

Nonetheless, message and music, I’m sad to report, aren’t important—not really. The big variable is community. Aside from that often-awkward official greeting time during the service, community is a meaningful time of spiritual interaction with others.

When we make connections with others, we share Jesus. God is more present in these informal exchanges before and after the service than during the planned and prepped moments of the service.

A few churches have no community. People come, people sit, and people leave, without saying a word. This is not church as God intended.

Church #18 (Revisiting Roman Catholicism) had no community. Church #17 (A Doubleheader) and Church #16 (Something’s Missing) had minimal community. They gave us no reason to return.

Fortunately, most churches allow community to some degree and a few excel at it. I want to revisit these churches. Community is church at its best.

4 Standout Churches

Four churches stood out in their embrace of us. Though our visit could have been an anomaly, I suspect all visitors would receive a similar welcome.

Many churches have an official greeter or two and most have a couple of outgoing people who reach out to visitors, but at Church #22 (A Caring Community) it seemed everyone reached out to us.

We met so many people who were genuinely interested in getting to know us. They were sincere, accepting, and engaging.

At Church #25 (Embarking on a Metamorphosis, Part 2), we enjoyed many friendly conversations beforehand, had people invite us to sit with them, and enjoyed significant interaction afterward.

The after-church community at Church #19 (A Near Miss) was also great. We talked with many people, made connections, and learned about their church, ministry philosophy, and vision. It felt as if we were at a family reunion with extended relatives.

At Church #14 (The Pentecostal Perspective) many members of the congregation were friendly. We felt welcomed before and during the service, enjoying spiritually-significant conversations.

Unfortunately, their narrow theology placed us on the outside. They would never fully accept us into their community.

Receiving honorable mention are the two minority congregations: Church #26 (An Unknown Situation) and Church #20 (Different Language, Same God). Both were extremely friendly, but we failed to make deep connections with anyone at either church.

For the first, this was due to language differences and for the second, cultural differences, though I should note, we weren’t in the target demographic at either church.

Avoid a Consumerism Mentality

A second observation also stems from the preaching and singing. Consumerism is rampant in the modern church. The mantra of many churches, especially the larger ones, is “excellence in everything.”

Doing whatever God calls us to do to the best of our abilities is God-honoring. He deserves nothing less. Unfortunately, pursuing excellence can feed into a consumer mentality.

Many people seek a church with the most engaging speaker and professional musicians.

When they find it, they join that church—and stay there until a better preacher or music comes along. They are church consumers, looking for the best value. They forget about community and never ask what they can give to a church.

I’m not being overly critical. How many times have you heard someone leave a church because “I’m just not being fed anymore”? I’ve heard it, and I’ve even said it. Its cousin is “it’s just not meeting my needs.”

Although both complaints sound sincerely spiritual, they reveal a consumer mindset: “What will church do for me?” If this church can’t meet my needs, I’ll find one that does.

The result is church shopping and church hopping. This isn’t God-honoring, and we should be ashamed.

A third item is church size. Size does matter and bigger isn’t better.

There’s a progression: Excellence in preaching and music triggers a consumer reaction, so churches that excel in these areas attract bigger crowds. They grow and may even become a megachurch.

Connection and Community

From the perspective of structure, resources, programs, staff, and efficiency, bigger churches have a huge advantage. This plays well in today’s society, but it isn’t the purpose of church.

Church is to connect people with God and with each other.

This is hard, if not impossible, to do with any degree of intimacy and integrity at a large church. That’s why they form small groups, promoting smallness within the structure of largeness.

I’m using small groups in a generic sense. The actual labels vary: small groups, life groups, Bible studies, pods, service teams, and fellowship groups.

At the churches with, say, more than two hundred people, no one knows if you’re a visitor and few care. If you want to get lost in a crowd, go to a big church. If you want community, seek a smaller one.

These are the three key insights God showed me in the past six months. Our church visits confirm it. I’m not down on church, but I wonder if today’s church has lost its way.

Contemplating this, I blogged, asking “What Is Church?“:

“Church isn’t about message or music. Those are often distractions or settling for less than the best. True church is about community, where we are all priests, with each one giving and receiving, mutually edifying and encouraging one another on our faith journey.”

I’m sure we’ll learn more on the second half of our journey. I can’t wait for what else God has planned for us.

Takeaway for Everyone: True church is about community. The message and music are secondary—and may even distract from what really matters.

[Check out the discussion questions for this post.]

My wife and I visited a different Christian Church every Sunday for a year. This is our story. Get your copy of 52 Churches today, available in ebook, paperback, hardcover, and audiobook.

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.

 

Categories
Visiting Churches

52 Churches: Part One Perspective

Here’s an Overview After Visiting Our First 13 Churches

We’re one-quarter of the way through our journey. It’s been more than what I’d hoped for and at the same time, not as much of what I expected.

In attending the churches closest to home in our rural, white, middle-class area I expected little racial diversity, and we saw even less.

Although I could assume our few local minorities don’t go to church, it’s more likely they aren’t attending the ones nearby. This lack of racial diversity reflects poorly on the nearly all-white churches we’ve visited.

52 Churches: A Yearlong Journey Encountering God, His Church, and Our Common Faith

Despite areas of concern, I liked each of the thirteen churches and, if needed, any one could become my church home, though some would take much more effort than others.

Notable and Intriguing Churches

But finding a new church isn’t our goal. Our mission is to expand our worship of God and meet our extended Christian family. Still, three churches grab my attention:

Church #7 (The New Church) draws me. I like that they’re truly nondenominational and unaffiliated. Even more, I appreciate their many unchurched and under-churched attendees, as well as their goal of growing deeper.

As a bonus, they recently moved and are now the third closest church to our home, a scant 1.4 miles away. Their community calls me.

Both United Methodist churches hold an appeal, but the second one, Church #12 (More Methodists, More Food), edges out the first.

This is in part because they’re in our rural area, whereas the first, although slightly closer to our home, has more affinity with the nearby city I’ve become weary of driving to.

I also really like the pastor there. Her quiet reverence in leading worship guides me into God’s presence like nothing I’ve ever enjoyed at church.

The United Methodist Church, however, periodically relocates its ministers, and I wonder if I’d still feel drawn to the church once they reassign her. She’s already been there six and a half years, and I suspect she’ll move on soon.

Church #5 (Catholics are Christians Too) has a pull for me, likely because they’re an enigma. There’s much I could learn from them about worshiping God.

Unfortunately, their service isn’t accessible to outsiders, and it would be hard to make friends there since there’s little community.

Additionally, I’d like to make repeat visits to Church #3 (It Only Hurts When You Care) and Church #8 (A Grand Experiment).

For the first one, I want to witness a typical service there, whereas for the second, I wonder if I’d still be as interested in their community after a second visit. I fear I wouldn’t, so maybe it’s best not to return.

Candy says that out of the thirteen, Church #2 (Growing Deeper, Not Wider) is her preference. It, too, has a strong draw for me. This makes sense as its worship style and age demographics are the most like our home church.

My only concern is that their doctrine is much narrower than mine, and I fear I would soon chafe under its teaching.

Key Observations

Overall, and most disconcerting, is the correlation I’ve seen between the members’ age and dress compared to their facility and worship style.

If you show me the building and service, I’ll predict the audience’s age and what they’ll wear. Alternately, tell me the age and attire of attendees, and I’ll predict the type of service and even the character of the facility.

The question is causality. Does an aging congregation produce a traditional service in a dated facility or does a traditional service in a dated facility attract an older crowd?

Conversely, does a younger or multigenerational gathering create a contemporary service in a nontraditional setting or does a contemporary service in a nontraditional setting attract a younger or multigenerational crowd?

Instead of wondering which caused what, the greater insight is to simply note a connection between attendee age and service style. I suspect the two go together.

Older congregations with traditional services face a deadly downward spiral, with one feeding into the other, which only exacerbates the trend.

I see no long-term hope for these aging congregations and no realistic way to rejuvenate them—aside from supernatural intervention. Pray that God will intervene.

Parting Thoughts

So far, this adventure has been great. Part of me doesn’t want it to end after fifty-two weeks, as there are a couple hundred churches within easy driving distance, but another part of me wonders if I have the stamina to persevere to the end.

Added to this are churches that warrant repeat visits. I also wonder what I might learn about Christianity by visiting non-Christian faith gatherings.

Despite that, I also miss having regular community with close friends.

With all this in mind, we press on.

Takeaway for Everyone: Many churches operate as they always have, unaware that society has changed and seeks something different. The future of these congregations is in jeopardy.

[Check out the discussion questions for this post.]

My wife and I visited a different Christian Church every Sunday for a year. This is our story. Get your copy of 52 Churches today, available in ebook, paperback, hardcover, and audiobook.

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.

Categories
Visiting Churches

52 Churches Infographic

Learn More about 52 Churches

Discover more in the 52 Churches infographic to see key insights and data about the churches my wife and I visited in a year as covered in my book 52 Churches .

52 Churches infographic, from the book 52 Churches, by Peter DeHaan

Click on the above image to get a better look or download your own copy of the 52 Churches infographic.

Whether or not you’ve read the book, check out this insightful 52 Churches infographic about visiting fifty-two churches in a year for a quick visual overview of key findings.

Here’s a bit about our adventure:

My wife and I visited a different church every Sunday for a year. This book is our story.

52 Churches is part religious exposé, part travel memoir, and 100% authentic. Peter refuses to hold back his punches. You’ll cringe when this Christian author is singled out by a fire-and-brimstone preacher, unnecessarily determined to save his soul out of hell. You’ll find yourself thankful that you weren’t in Peter’s shoes when the pastor told his congregation to greet one another with a holy kiss.

You’ll read about Christian practices that are far different from your own, and in the process gain a deeper understanding of believers from all walks of life and denominational backgrounds: Protestant mainline, evangelical, and charismatic, Roman Catholic, and more.

Discover just how vast, diverse, and amazing Jesus’s church is.

My wife and I visited a different Christian Church every Sunday for a year. This is our story. Get your copy of 52 Churches today, available in ebook, paperback, hardcover, and audiobook.

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.

Categories
Visiting Churches

An Organizational Metamorphosis

We’ll Bypass Visiting This Church (For Now)

So far, we’ve visited twelve churches.

With one exception—a spiritual community that wasn’t exclusively Christian—we’ve faithfully attended every church on our list, according to their distance from home.

52 Churches: A Yearlong Journey Encountering God, His Church, and Our Common Faith

As our journey continues, we’ll skip some to maximize the breadth of our experience.

The first church we’re skipping is a mainstream denomination church. There are two reasons: We’ve visited this church several times before with a family member.

Second, the church has been struggling of late and is embarking on an organizational metamorphosis. They are in a time of transition from which a new church will hopefully emerge.

This new gathering will have a fresh perspective, a different pastor, and a new name. They will be reborn. Since this is all in the planning stage, we’ll set this church aside.

If their transformation progresses, we’ll visit later. And if this strategy doesn’t work, there will be nothing left to see.

It’s a tough time for the faithful few who remain. I pray for a successful organizational metamorphosis.

Takeaway for Everyone: Every church will at some time struggle. Make sure that season doesn’t turn away visitors.

[Update: though it took a while, we do eventually visit this church. I call it a reboot. I think it was worth the wait. Read about that experience.]

My wife and I visited a different Christian Church every Sunday for a year. This is our story. Get your copy of 52 Churches today, available in ebook, paperback, hardcover, and audiobook.

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.

Categories
Visiting Churches

Getting Started Visiting 52 Churches

Apprehension about Visiting Our First Congregation

It’s Sunday morning, and we’ve yet to visit our first church. Even though it’s only been a week, I already miss my friends at our church. I already miss what I know and expect, even though I know to expect the unexpected.

At least the unexpected happens in a familiar place and with friends.

As an introvert who excels at social awkwardness, I relish familiar surroundings. Going somewhere new produces a deep fear I yearn to avoid. I have driven into a parking lot at a new place, panicked, and driven away.

Instead of fighting fear, I prefer to flee it. I understand panic attacks. It takes prayer and God’s help to subdue them.

I get up around 6 a.m., as usual, but Church #1 doesn’t start for five hours. That’s far too much time for me to wait. I wonder, and I worry. Doubt creeps in. My fear grows.

If only the service started earlier. Then there wouldn’t be as much time for the enemy to whisper his lies: “This is a stupid idea.” “You will fail.” “No one will read your book.”

52 Churches: A Yearlong Journey Encountering God, His Church, and Our Common Faith

I must resist the devil, so he will flee from me (see James 4:7).

Or at least I can distract myself by working on this chapter. My insides churn with equal parts excitement and fear—or perhaps it’s just the sausage pizza from last night.

It doesn’t help that my bed provided more restlessness than rest. I add “tired” to my growing list of reasons not to go.

I now understand why the non-regular church attender can so easily stay home despite their best intentions. The living room recliner and television remote are much more inviting and much less threatening.

Yet I press on. This isn’t due to my character but to avoid embarrassment. Too many people know about this project for me to abort my mission on day one.

The first of fifty-two churches is a small one in an old building. I know nothing about them, even though they’re a scant one mile from home.

For years, we’ve driven past their tiny church, yet I’ve never met anyone who went there. How strange. We’ve lived in this community for nearly a quarter of a century, and my connection to it goes back even further.

I know people from the other local churches, why not here?

Does anyone actually go to this one?

Learning about them online isn’t an option. They don’t have a website or even a Facebook page.

Candy and I discuss when we should leave but don’t agree.

We don’t want to breeze in at the last minute, removing any opportunity for pre-service interaction. Yet, arriving too early opens us to awkwardness if there’s no one to talk to, leaving us with nothing to do but squirm.

We pray before heading out. I ask God to bless our time at church and teach us what he wants us to learn. I request his favor, so we can have a positive impact on this church and the people there. We say “amen,” and then we leave.

Candy shows no apprehension, and I doubt she’s aware of mine. She keeps our conversation light. In the two-minute drive, there’s no time for my angst to grow. Before I know it, we’re there.

My palms grow sweaty and my heart pounds. Nausea overtakes me.

What have I gotten us into?

Takeaway for Everyone: Make it as easy for visitors as possible. Providing helpful information online is critical: what to expect, how to dress, a theological overview, and any distinctive characteristics.

[Check out the discussion questions for church #1.]

Learn what happens next when we visit our first church.

My wife and I visited a different Christian Church every Sunday for a year. This is our story. Get your copy of 52 Churches today, available in ebook, paperback, hardcover, and audiobook.

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.

Categories
Visiting Churches

How It All Began: A Holy Spirit Prompting

An Introduction to 52 Churches

“Where do you go to church?”

Oh, how I dread that question.

It isn’t that I don’t go to church or am too embarrassed to answer. Instead, my frustration comes from the scowls I receive as I fumble through my reply. No matter what I say, I cause confusion.

This question about church attendance comes from clients at the local food pantry, where I volunteer. The pantry is a community effort started by local businesses, service organizations, and churches.

Now staffed mostly by church members, church attendance is a common topic of our patrons.

I serve as the point person for the clients. I explain our process, guide them through the paperwork, and match them with a volunteer to help them shop. As we move through these steps, we often chat.

This is when the awful question about where I go to church comes up.

The problem is that I don’t attend any of the churches that support the pantry. Instead, my wife, Candy, and I drive some fifteen miles to a church in another community.

Though I long to worship God in the community where we live, he has sent me to one further away and less convenient.

Sometimes I explain all this, but the clients’ eyes glaze over, either in boredom or bewilderment. Other times I only share the name of our church, but no one recognizes it.

Since it’s not a typical church name, they wonder if I’m kidding. Occasionally, I change the subject, but they don’t like that either.

Eventually, I realize they ask because they’re looking for a church.

Sure, some people are being polite, others feel obligated to ask—since nearly all our volunteers go to church, and a few want to label me based on my church affiliation. But most of them just want to find a spiritual community to plug into.

The pantry’s mandate is to serve residents of our local school district, which has ten churches within its borders. I don’t know a thing about some of them.

I know a little bit about each of the five churches involved with the pantry, but I don’t know enough to answer folks’ questions or direct them to the best match for their needs and background.

What if I visited all ten? Then I could better help clients who were looking for a church.

Yet, it isn’t that simple. What about churches just outside the school district? Should I consider nearby congregations too?

In addition to the ten within our school district, five more are a few miles to the southwest, twenty-one to the west, and scores more to the east.

A Lifelong Practice

All my life, I’ve gone to church. This has been a regular practice, pursued with dogged determination.

Yet, in considering the churches I’ve attended—first with my parents, next by myself, and then with my family—our church of choice was seldom the nearest one.

Why don’t we go to church where we live? This is a deep desire of my heart: to live, worship, and serve in the same community.

In addition to being practical in terms of time, effort, and cost, worshiping locally would also provide more opportunity to connect with and form a faith community in our geographic community, not somebody else’s.

Another perplexing question is wondering why each of our church-attending neighbors goes to a different one.

I long to worship God with my neighbors. Are the forms of our faith so different that we can’t go to church together? The answer should be “no,” but the evidence proves otherwise.

My hunch is that each possible church opportunity offers a fresh perspective of pursuing God or perhaps a different understanding of what it means to worship him.

If I can learn from each one, my comprehension of the God I love will grow and my understanding of worshiping him will be enhanced.

These reasons propel me forward, to undertake my unconventional faith journey of visiting different churches.

This isn’t the first time I wondered about the practices of other churches.

My grandmother went to a Baptist church. It was so different from the mainline one I attended that as a young child I thought she was a borderline heathen or perhaps part of a cult.

I was even more concerned about the girl next door, my only consistent friend for the first ten years of my life. She went with her family to a Roman Catholic parish and attended a parochial school.

Based on misinformation from people who didn’t understand Catholicism—or perhaps didn’t care to—I was convinced she was on her way to hell. She likely thought the same thing about me. I assumed I was on the side of right, and she, on the side of wrong.

The idea that we could both be right was beyond my comprehension. I even wondered how I might convert her to my church practices, not knowing we both looked to the same God, just in different ways.

When my family moved, my exposure to Catholics increased. In middle school art class, where the teacher had no clue what went on in her room, some classmates started arguing about Purgatory when we were supposed to be making art.

A group of us ditched our projects to debate the issue. We aligned our teams on opposite sides of a rectangular table. We stared at each other until I framed why we sat there glaring at each other. “Is there Purgatory?”

“Yes,” answered the other side of the table.

“No,” came the retort from my side.

No one said anything more. We each had our opinions, but we lacked support.

The debate ended without any discussion and without a winner. We slunk away from the table.

It bothered me that I couldn’t defend my unexamined position and that I learned nothing about Purgatory. How could Christians—who all claim to follow Jesus—hold such polarized opinions over the same faith?

The Same Team

I was a voracious reader, and my grandmother kept me supplied with a steady flow of books, all from a Baptist perspective.

This influenced me significantly during my formative years, causing me to wrestle greatly in attempting to reconcile a traditional Christian mindset with evangelical teaching.

Later, I discovered the Holy Spirit—the third part of the Trinity that mainline and conservative Christians downplay, sometimes even dismiss. I immersed myself in a pursuit of the charismatic.

We’re all on the same team, I lamented. Why can’t we get along?

This so vexed me that, years later, when it came time to select my dissertation topic I had no hesitation. I chose Christian unity.

My imperative need to learn why we were different and to advocate Christian harmony became even more urgent as I studied Jesus’s prayer in John 17, which he uttered just prior to his capture and execution.

With an agonizing death only hours away, Jesus took time to pray. His final request was that all his future followers would get along. He knew the impact of his sacrifice would be lessened if those who later professed to follow him lived in conflict with each other.

Now, with my dissertation complete, I have a theoretical understanding of the need for unity.

Despite that, I lack the practical knowledge of how the different streams of Protestants express their faith and worship God. And I’m completely ignorant about the rest of Christianity.

A Holy Spirit Prompting

As I wonder what to do with my idea of visiting area churches to better inform myself and help the food pantry clients, God prompts me to pursue a grander vision.

At his leading, I plan an unconventional faith journey, one of adventure and discovery: to learn what he would show me by visiting a different Christian church every Sunday for a year. I eventually call my sojourn “52 Churches.”

Oh, how this vision resonates with me. All my life I’ve yearned for more, spiritually. More from church, more from its community, and more from our common faith.

I’ve searched for answers, answers to impertinent questions I can sometimes barely articulate.

Yet something deep inside compels me to ask them, even though I confound others every time I do. A primal urge forces me to reach for this spiritual “more,” one I know to exist, as surely as I know my own name.

I dare to extend my arms toward God and have the audacity to expect him to reciprocate, perhaps even touching the tip of my outstretched fingers.

We’re content to drink Kool-Aid when God offers us wine. (This is an unlikely metaphor for me to use since I don’t drink alcohol—except for the occasional communion service that serves it.) Yes, there is more.

So much more. I’m desperate to discover it—and visiting fifty-two churches offers the potential to uncover more—or at least get me closer. This is something I must do. For me, this is no longer an option but a requirement.

My faith demands it. My spiritual sanity requires it.

This adventure earns the support of my wife and willing accomplice; my pastor, who encourages me to move forward; and my fellow elders who, after initial apprehension, support me, even anticipating what I will learn and share.

This isn’t a church-shopping romp, looking for a perfect faith community. Instead, I seek to broaden my understanding of God, church, and faith by experiencing different spiritual practices.

To do this, Candy and I will take a one-year sabbatical from our home church, intent on returning, armed with a greater understanding of how to better connect with the God we love, worship, and serve.

Yet I realize God might have other plans. He could tell us to join one of the churches we visit. He might instruct us to extend our quest or end it early.

He could fundamentally change our understanding of church and our role in it. Or perhaps things might work out as we plan, with us simply returning to our home church, one year later, better equipped to worship and serve.

Along the way, I suspect each church will show us a different approach to encountering God. I’m determined to learn what I can each week to increase my comprehension of him and enhance my worship.

I want to expand my understanding of our common faith, and I expect to boost my appreciation for the diversity of the local branches of Jesus’s church.

Whatever the outcome, I know God will teach us much, and I intend to come back well-armed with helpful information for the clients at the food pantry.

As I tell close friends about my plan—actually, it’s God’s plan—many resonate with it. This isn’t just a journey for me but for us all, albeit vicariously for most. This isn’t one man’s narcissistic pursuit.

It is an adventure for all who sense a need for more.

  • To those disenfranchised with church: This is a journey of hope and rediscovery. Don’t give up on church. God has a place in it for you. Yes, church can be messy at times, and the easy reaction is to give up.

    Maybe church left you disappointed, or her members hurt you beyond comprehension, but there are many people, at many churches, ready to offer love and extend acceptance.

    Don’t let a bad incident, or two, cause you to miss a lifetime of spiritual connection with others. I pray this book will call you back to Christian community.
  • To spiritual seekers: You have a place in God’s family. I’ll share fifty-two ways to expand your perspective. Diligently seek God as you explore churches, and you will find him. But don’t shop for a church as a consumer.

    Instead, travel as a pilgrim on a faith journey, seeking fellow sojourners to walk beside you. I pray the end of this story will mark the beginning of yours.
  • To the inquisitive: The church of Jesus is bigger, broader, and vaster than most of us have ever considered. Here, I share fifty-two reasons why, fifty-two variations of one theme.

    I pray you will begin to ask brave questions about church practices, explore fresh ways to worship God, and accept those who hold different understandings.
  • To church leaders: I offer a narrative to help you reach out more effectively, embrace more fully, and love more completely.

    You’re sure to catch glimpses of your church reflected on these pages, with anecdotes that will cause you to smile—and to groan—with each impression offering insight to those willing to accept it.

    May this book serve as your primer to celebrate what you do well and improve what you could do better. I pray this will mark a new beginning for your local branch of Jesus’s church.
  • To advocates of Christian unity: We’re part of the church Jesus began. It’s time everyone embraces this reality.

    I pray this account will encourage you to pursue greater unity in Jesus, to help churches in your area work together for God’s glory, so that everyone will know the Father, just as Jesus prayed (John 17:20–26).

    Another word for Christian unity is ecumenical: Of or relating to the worldwide Christian church.
52 Churches: A Yearlong Journey Encountering God, His Church, and Our Common Faith

My Wife Joins Me on This Adventure

Candy compiles a list of churches within ten miles of our home. She initially identifies fifty-seven, but we keep discovering more. Our file eventually balloons to ninety churches located within a ten-mile drive.

Not on the list is our own church, an outlier congregation that is part of a small mainline denomination, even though many assume we’re nondenominational—because that’s how we act.

God told me to help start this church. He called me to go there. Despite aching to attend church closer to home, he hasn’t released me to do so.

To realize the most from our sojourn, we form a plan. We’ll visit those churches nearest our home first, picking them in order of driving distance.

Toward the end of our journey, we’ll choose other churches from the remaining list, visiting those most different from our norm. Making the list is the easy part.

Next, we set some guidelines. Each week, we’ll check their website, hoping to learn about them before our visit so we can more fully embrace our time there.

Still, knowing that websites are sometimes out-of-date, we’ll email or call to verify service times. (Candy faithfully handled this every week for the entire year.)

If there are multiple meetings, we’ll go to the later one, since second services, which usually have a higher attendance, possess more energy, and lack time constraints.

We’ll dress casually, as we normally do, for church. For me this means a T-shirt, shorts, and tennis shoes in the summer and a casual shirt, jeans, and boots in the winter.

This is practical because my wardrobe best allows it. It will also help because casual attire is what a non-churched visitor would likely wear.

Though I don’t want to come off as an unchurched outsider, I’ll learn more if they don’t view me as a conformed insider.

We agree to go along with any visitor rituals, but we’ll do nothing to imply we might come back or consider joining their community. If they want to give us literature or welcome gifts, we’ll graciously accept them.

When asked why we’re visiting, we’ll be honest, saying we’re seeking to expand our understanding of worshiping God by visiting area churches—but we aren’t looking to join one.

Also, we’ll avoid showing up at the last minute, instead aiming to arrive ten minutes early. This will allow for possible pre-church interaction.

Afterward, we’ll look for opportunities to talk with people and will stay for any after-church activities—except Sunday school.

This is because the original purpose of Sunday school was to teach poor children how to read. By the time public schools took over this task, Sunday school had become an institution and continued as an expected requirement.

At most churches Sunday school is now little more than an obligatory expectation, where frustrated faculty seek to fill time that antsy children strive to avoid.

Too many Sunday school programs bore their students and effectively teach kids that faith is boring.

However, aside from Sunday school, as we visit churches, we’ll do our best to be open and approachable, interacting with others any way we can.

Perhaps most important, we’ll participate in their service to the degree we feel comfortable, while being careful not to push their boundaries.

For more exuberant expressions of worship this means we’ll have the freedom, but not the obligation, to follow their lead. For more reserved gatherings, we won’t do anything to alarm them with our behavior.

I’ll blog about our visits, but I won’t keep the dispassionate distance of a reporter. I’ll engage in the service and with their community.

Throughout our adventure, I will continue to participate in a twice-a-month, midweek gathering at our home church. It is a nurturing faith community where we encourage and challenge each other.

This will serve as my spiritual base during our sojourn and help keep me connected. I’ll also listen to our church’s sermon podcasts and attend elder meetings.

As friends pray for our journey, one asks that we make a positive impact on each church we visit. This surprises me. I strive to make a difference wherever I go, but I never considered it for 52 Churches.

I assumed we would receive, but I never considered how we might give. With an expanded perspective, our adventure becomes doubly exciting.

Talk is safe. Action is risky. It’s easy to consider a bold move in the indefinite future. But I need to pick a date, or this will never be anything more than an intriguing idea that never happens.

It’s the season of Lent, and our church is marching toward Easter. What if we start our journey after that? I share the timing with my wife.

I expect resistance—or perhaps, I hope for some—providing an excuse for delay. But she nods her agreement. My pastor and fellow elders also affirm the timing. Some are envious.

Candy and I celebrate Jesus’s resurrection with our home church. Then we slip away to begin our sojourn the following Sunday.

I expect this to be an amazing adventure, and I invite you to journey with us.

My wife and I visited a different Christian Church every Sunday for a year. This is our story. Get your copy of 52 Churches today, available in ebook, paperback, hardcover, and audiobook.

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.

Categories
Visiting Churches

The Postcard Church

The Allure of Something Fresh

After a year or so of attending The Nonconventional Church, we receive a series of captivating postcards about a new church that will soon launch in our community. I soon call them the Postcard Church.

I’m intrigued and want to learn more. My wife doesn’t.

Shopping for Church: Searching for Christian Community, a Memoir

Though they’re part of a denomination, I’m willing to overlook that fact if they deliver what they promise. But their denominational affiliation is a sticking point for Candy. I get that.

So, we continue to attend The Nonconventional Church. I like everything about it and what they do—except for their music and their message. Neither draws me. Yet the allure of post-service community calls me.

I especially like the monthly potluck. I most anticipate sharing a meal with other believers and sharing life with them around the table. It’s the highlight of my month. Seriously.

Yet the food prep falls to my bride, and she wearies of it, which I comprehend. When she complains, I offer to handle it, but we both know that’s a bad idea. It’s her kitchen, and I need to stay out of it when she’s around.

Though I ably make meals when she isn’t present, the outcome is never good if she’s there to watch what I do. And the only time I could prepare for our Sunday potluck is when she’s home.

So, she continues to handle it, but it becomes a growing point of contention. The part I like best about our church is the part she likes the least.

Change in Plans

One week our daughter-in-law says she wants to visit The Postcard Church. She invites us to go with them. I know how hard it is to visit a new church, and I sense she’s looking for some support on their first visit.

With the pressures of work, life, and a growing family, their church attendance has become sporadic. Though they call The Rural Church their church home, they seldom go anymore. I think it’s been months.

The Postcard Church is in our community, meeting in the local middle school. Based entirely on their marketing materials, I’m excited to see what we’ll encounter.

Our daughter-in-law’s invitation is an excuse to visit this church and an opportunity for us to encourage our kids to plug back into a faith community.

We gladly take a one-week break from our church to help our kids find a spiritual place where they can belong.

Interestingly, The Postcard Church is a site plant of the parent church behind The Multisite Church. This is another location.

This is also the church that approached The Traditional Denominational Church seeking to work with them to expand their outreach to the community. In the end, that church turned them down, opting to continue pursuing their own path.

The Postcard Church is three-quarters of a mile from our home. Though we could walk, we opt to drive. We’ll meet our children and grandchildren there.

The church is a satellite location of an established church in the area. Unlike most satellite churches, they offer the music and message live. Their parent church provides centralized governance and financial oversight.

They meet at the local middle school, an arrangement I applaud.

Instead of investing money in a building that’s only fully used a few hours each week and only fractionally used during business hours, they free up money to invest in outreach and ministry.

Though they pay a rental fee, that’s much less than the cost to own and maintain a building. Besides the cost element, this arrangement provides flexibility if they outgrow the space.

As we drive up, the church’s trailer sits alongside the driveway, smartly doubling as a sign for the church and signaling the proper entrance. Renting space from a school means they need to set up and tear down each Sunday.

The large trailer doubles as a transportation unit on Sunday and storage space throughout the week for their equipment and supplies.

We drive past the trailer. A large vertical welcome banner shows us where to park and which entrance to use, staffed with two smiling greeters.

We talk a bit. Once inside there’s no question about where to go.

A portable sign tells us to turn right for the service, though the nursery and some children’s programs are to the left. We veer right and find ourselves in a large open space, with people mingling about.

As we move forward, two men interrupt their conversation to talk to us, something I seldom witness at the churches we visit.

They share their names, and we give ours, connecting with them as we do. After a while we thank them for their time and move into the worship space, a typical middle school gym.

In the middle are folding chairs set in three sections, with one hundred chairs per section. We sit as we wait for the rest of our family to arrive, which they soon do.

With the overhead lights off, we rely on indirect lighting. The subdued ambiance pleases but makes it hard to read the literature they gave us.

People and excitement fill the space. All age groups show up, but most are younger than us. It’s likely many of the tweens and younger teenagers also attend this school during the week, while their younger siblings will in a few years.

As we wait, soft music plays in the background. People talk with friends. The atmosphere strikes a pleasing balance between churches whose members sit in stoic silence waiting for the service to start and those where frenzied activity overwhelms.

A worship team of five gathers in front. There is a drummer, two on guitars, one on keys, and one backup vocalist. They have no one for bass. The keyboardist doubles as the worship leader.

Four-fifths of their ensemble fit within the millennial generation, with a lone baby boomer.

After the first song, the teaching pastor welcomes us and gives announcements. One is a chance to get to know others in the church.

The idea is simple: three individuals or families get together three times over three months around a shared meal, dessert, or coffee.

This helps people get to know others and form connections. It’s a short-term commitment with a long-term benefit.

The pastor moves us into the greeting time. I interact with four people, but no one else makes any effort. I fidget, longing for this time to end. As church greetings go, this one is neither memorable nor haunting.

Our space is now over half full, which is good for a holiday weekend. We sing some more. I don’t know any of the songs, but I pick up the chorus on most and the verses on a few.

Next is the offering. There’s an information card to fill out and drop in the offering basket, but Candy’s still working on it when the offering gets to us. We’ll turn it in later.

After the collection they slide smoothly into a final song before the sermon.

Despite some empty spaces in the front, they’ve stealthily added more chairs in the back, which are now mostly full. I suspect the attendance pushes three hundred, with a hundred or more kids and their leaders elsewhere in the facility.

Belong, Believe, Become

It’s week three of a three-part series: “Belong, Believe, Become.” Today is about becoming. As I contemplate his teaching, I jot down a profound phrase: “Know your community.”

This makes sense. If we’re going to reach our neighbors, we need to better understand them.

He gives us a simple three-point process to engage people: Step one is to talk to them. Step two is to ask them a question. Step three is to invite them for a meal, an outing, or a service opportunity. Most people are open to an invitation to do something.

He concludes with an encouragement to build church where we are.

The service ends. Many people pick up their chair, collapse it, and stow it on a nearby rack. Others come up to us to talk. We enjoy these conversations, which are friendly and engaging.

 After doing my part to pick up our family’s chairs, we move back into the lobby. There we turn in our information cards to the visitor center and enjoy an extended time of conversation with a most engaging woman.

She tells us about the church. I ask how next Sunday’s service will compare to this holiday weekend experience. The woman says the service will be the same format, but there will be many more people. I wonder how many more.

We could return next week to find out. In two weeks, they’ll have an after-church event for people who want to learn more about their gathering.

This church has much to offer, but we’ll miss it since we’ll be back at The Nonconventional Church.

I long to go to church in my community and attend with my neighbors. This church meets the first criteria, but I don’t spot any neighbors.

The four of us debrief at lunch. We all had a positive experience at the Postcard Church.

Our grandson, however, struggled in nursery, with the director of children’s programming holding him the entire time. The two of them bonded, which so touched his mother’s heart.

“We’re coming back next week,” she announces. “Do you want to come with us?”

We agree.

Takeaway

Giving first-time visitors a positive experience is key to having them come back.

Read the full story in Peter DeHaan’s new book Shopping for Church.

Travel along with Peter and his wife as they search for a new Christian community in his latest book, Shopping for Church, part of the Visiting Churches Series.

This book picks up the mantle from 52 Churches, their year-long sabbatical of visiting churches.

Here’s what happens:

My wife and I move. Now we need to find a new church. It’s not as easy as it sounds. She wants two things; I seek three others.

But this time the stakes are higher. I’ll write about the churches we visit, and my wife will pick which one we’ll call home. It sounds simple. What could possibly go wrong?

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.

Categories
Visiting Churches

Evangelical or Charismatic Church?

Confusing Messaging

I’m excited about visiting the last church on our list—or at least the final church we intend to visit. Our plans could change, and with God, they often do. I’m not sure if this church is charismatic or evangelical.

Shopping for Church: Searching for Christian Community, a Memoir

An Independent Charismatic Fellowship

Unlike last week, this church’s website provides a lot of useful information. On their About page, they call themselves “an independent, charismatic fellowship.”

After visiting too many area churches that minimize the role of the Holy Spirit, I look forward to a church that doesn’t. I’m also encouraged that they’re independent, with no denominational baggage to slow them down or siphon off funds.

But their next line contradicts their claim of independence by stating they belong to a network alliance of churches. Either they’re independent, or they aren’t. My enthusiasm dims.

They post plenty of pictures on their website, photos of people smiling and having fun.

The adults featured are mostly younger and with lots of kids, not all with white skin. For an area with little racial diversity, a church with some cultural variation encourages me.

They offer all the programs common in church: Sunday school, nursery, youth groups, a college group, men’s ministry, women’s ministry, and small groups (albeit with a different label).

Sunday school is concurrent with the church service, forcing both the kids and their teachers to miss the experience of community worship. Though they don’t have a Sunday evening service, they do have a Wednesday night prayer meeting.

I don’t want a church that does what every other church does. I yearn for something different, something fresh and rooted in the mindset of the early church.

As I page through their website, I notice one conspicuous absence: the Holy Spirit. After a careful study, I see him only on the What We Believe page and the Senior High page.

Once a month high school students get together for “radical worship and times of contemplation where we wait, listen, pursue Jesus, and minister to each other in the Holy Spirit.” Junior high and up may join them.

Why just once a month? Shouldn’t we embrace the Holy Spirit every day?

Heading for Church

I wonder what the Sunday service will be like. Like last week, I hope for the best while braced for disappointment, though expectation prevails. Soon I’ll find out.

As we head for the church, I pray for our time there. The route is easy, but the entrance isn’t marked well, and I drive past it. A long drive reveals a parking lot that is filling up and a building larger than I expected.

The church is sixteen years old and has been meeting here for the past eleven. I assume they built the building, so it must be just over a decade old. The exterior is metal, and Candy calls it a pole barn. Though harsh, she’s essentially correct.

As we head to the door, we enjoy a nice spring day with warm sunshine and a gentle breeze. Unlike last week, when I felt anxious on my approach, today I feel peace.

Initial Interactions

Greeters, one outside the door and the other just inside, compete to offer us bulletins. Both are pleasant, but neither offers more than their brochure.

Inside is a bustle of people. Some give us wary smiles, but most ignore us. We weave our way through the masses toward the sanctuary. One man, smiling broadly, approaches us with intention. “Hi,” he beams as we shake hands. “People call me Doc.”

I share our names and ask the obvious question. “Why do people call you Doc?”

His eyes sparkle. “I used to be a doctor, but if you call me Doctor, I’ll need to send you a bill.”

“Well, we don’t want that, Doc.”

As we talk, a woman tries unsuccessfully to get his attention. Though I see this, Doc doesn’t.

It’s not until we’re walking away that I learn her mission: she wants to make sure we sign their visitor card. Eventually, she gives one to Candy, along with a pen and some brief instructions.

We sit off the middle aisle, a third of the way up. The padded chairs are comfortable, pleasing enough that I never give them another thought.

There are four sections, capable of seating 280. In addition, there are a few high tables and chairs behind us.

The space is simple, but nicely finished, giving no hint on the inside of what the outside suggests. Centered in the front, positioned as high as permitted by the gently sloped ceiling, hangs a large screen. Below it is a stage, elevated by three steps.

A traditional wooden pulpit sits in the center, the only dated accessory in the place. Lining the back of the stage is a series of curtains, hanging from metal rods supported by metal posts. Behind them is the hint of what might be a baptistery.

The place quickly fills, as people buzz with excitement. Kids abound, a few of them with darker skin, just as their website shows. However, I don’t see any adults with the same skin color. Curious.

Evangelical or Charismatic?

I also check out the bulletin. Here they call themselves evangelical, with no mention of charismatic.

Though rare in my experience, it’s possible to be both evangelical and charismatic, but one trait always predominates. Which one is it for this church?

I scan their list of elders and deacons. All the elders are male, as are all but one deacon. I wonder if this is by design and doubt it’s by coincidence.

I’m discouraged when churches place limits on how women can serve. Last, I see that the “youth band” will lead the service next Sunday.

My experiences with youth leading worship have all been positive, and I wish it were happening today. Their normal worship team, however, might also be good. Soon we’ll find out.

Seven people open the service, leading us in song. The worship leader also plays keyboard. Other musicians play guitar, bass guitar, drums, and piano. Two more sing backup vocals.

The music feels alive. I sense God’s presence. Though the song is unfamiliar to me, its message clicks.

Next is a greeting and prayer. The minister reminds us that it’s Memorial Day weekend, and some members are gone. Since they’re at about 75 percent capacity today, they surely fill the place when everyone is in town.

Pentecost Sunday

The pastor also informs us it’s Pentecost Sunday, fifty days after Jesus’s resurrection. Today we celebrate God sending the Holy Spirit to the early church. It’s fitting we’re here on such an important day, even if I didn’t realize it.

The service will be different this Sunday, with extended music and a shorter teaching.

They’ll also celebrate Holy Communion, with the suggestion that through Communion we’ll finish the message—whatever that means. Sunday school is on hold today.

Next is a lengthy music set, contemporary songs that resonate with me. Along the side and in the opposite front corner, kids wave flags. One is so exuberant that his flag flies off the pole.

Though some kids appear to do it just for the fun of it, others connect their flags’ movements with the music, worshiping God through motion.

One woman also waves a flag, although stealthily. I wonder how many other adults would like to worship God in this way but are too self-conscious. I wonder the same about me.

Many adults raise their arms as we sing, physically worshiping God. For the first time in eighteen churches, this is the accepted norm.

Most of the churches we visited were stoic in their worship and for those who weren’t, raising hands was an anomaly. Today, it feels natural. I join them, happy to do so.

A lengthy list of announcements follows. The pastor says they don’t meet for Wednesday prayer in the summer. I’m dismayed. Does this imply it’s okay to take a break from prayer when other activities are more pressing?

I’m so preoccupied by this that I miss the rest of the announcements.

Taking Communion with Your Family

The minister starts his “short message,” again saying we will finish it when we take the Lord’s Supper. This perplexes me.

Is he speaking figuratively, or will this Communion celebration differ from my other experiences, allowing us the opportunity to complete his message verbally as we partake? I’m excited at the prospect and worried over the unknown.

He reads John 12:27–33 but starts teaching at verse 20. I jot down several thoughts:

Greeks are present, which is most unusual; they approach Philip, not Jesus; Philip goes to Andrew and, together, they bring the Greeks to Jesus; the door opens to Gentiles, but some people will never believe.

Though these are interesting, the teaching ends without me grasping a main point or takeaway.

“By taking Communion with your family,” he says, “we take a stand and complete the message.” I’m still confused.

Though he makes no invitation for nonmembers to partake, Doc was thoughtful enough to tell us we could. Without his approval, I would have sat in isolation while everyone else took part. Thanks, Doc.

With seven stations, each one staffed by an elder or deacon, we have options. People go forward as families. Most linger after they take the Communion elements, sometimes in conversation, other times in prayer.

After observing the process, we get in line. As it works out, we’re among the last to reach the front. The man holds out a plate with broken crackers.

We each take one, and he says something. Candy and I look at each other, wondering what to do. As he reaches for the tray with small cups of juice, we shove the pieces of cracker in our mouths. With a nod, we pick up the juice and drink it.

Without another word, he accepts our empty cups, and we sit down. Did I miss something? Were we supposed to interact with him? Was he supposed to interact with us?

Not only did we miss the community others enjoyed, but the process so distracted me that I missed the meaning of Communion. Forgive me, Lord Jesus.

Offering

After this, the minister recognizes a deacon and elder whose terms are ending; we applaud their service. He begins to offer the benediction when someone stops him. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot the offering—again. You’d think we didn’t need money.”

He launches into a lengthy discourse on giving, their budget shortfall, their plans, and the need to give. He claims he never talks this long about money, but I wonder who he’s trying to convince. Then he talks about it some more.

During this time, people wait patiently at the front of each of the five aisles, holding offering baskets. He forgets they’re standing there and finally notices them, permitting them to collect the offering.

As the basket goes by, I spot only a few bills in the bottom. Candy drops in our visitor card, with the pen clipped to it.

As another addendum, the minister asks some church leaders to come up after the service to pray for him and his upcoming trip to Africa. Then the service ends.

Interactions

We gather our things with intentional deliberation, giving time for the people sitting nearby to talk to us. But no one does. No one looks our way. I hope for someone to approach us, but no one does.

As we file out, one deacon asks if this is our first time there. When we confirm it is, he asks if we have questions. I do, but none come to mind until later.

I tell him “No.”

The conversation ends.

Doc makes his way to us, thanking us for visiting and inviting us back. He introduces us to some nearby people, but our interaction is nothing more than a handshake or head nod.

Then we repeat the process in how we entered, weaving our way between people who barely know we’re there.

We return to our car, ninety minutes after we arrived. Before I can ask, Candy shares her opinion. “The music was safe, and they were off-key sometimes.”

I groan. “I liked the music and thought it was some of the best we’ve encountered.” Though a handful of other churches are better, I ignore that fact for now. “I felt God’s presence, like I haven’t felt it at church for a long time.”

“That could be,” my wife responds, “but the music was still safe and off-key.” She’s probably right.

What we agree on is the pastor’s awkwardness. The congregation seems to accept his quirky communication traits, but I know they would grate on me. And aside from Doc, they weren’t at all friendly.

Making meaningful connections there would be hard. I don’t feel up to the challenge.

Despite some elements I really liked and an imperative desire for this church to click with me, they fell short. As I feared, I’m disappointed. Candy eliminates them from further consideration, so I do too.

We’ll get home around noon. I wonder what’s for lunch.

Takeaway

Make sure your church website sends a clear and consistent message about who you are and what you value.

I later emailed the church asking if adults are welcome at the monthly time when high schoolers radically worship God and listen to the Holy Spirit. I’d like to join them. No one responds. I could try calling them, but by now I’ve given up on the idea.

[Read about the next church, or start at the beginning of Shopping for Church.]

Read the full story in Peter DeHaan’s new book Shopping for Church.

Travel along with Peter and his wife as they search for a new Christian community in his latest book, Shopping for Church, part of the Visiting Churches Series.

This book picks up the mantle from 52 Churches, their year-long sabbatical of visiting churches.

Here’s what happens:

My wife and I move. Now we need to find a new church. It’s not as easy as it sounds. She wants two things; I seek three others.

But this time the stakes are higher. I’ll write about the churches we visit, and my wife will pick which one we’ll call home. It sounds simple. What could possibly go wrong?

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.

Categories
Visiting Churches

The Friendly Church

Retired and Welcoming

This church has an innocuous name, giving no clue about who they are. But this is precisely why I didn’t dismiss it or the people who go there.

Besides judging churches by their affiliation—or more precisely applauding their lack of a denominational connection—I realize I’ve also begun judging churches by their websites.

Shopping for Church: Searching for Christian Community, a Memoir

Their Website

This website has only four pages, five if you count the site map. The footer gives a date from four years ago. I’m not sure if that was when they created it or last edited it. It could be the last edit because all the information is static.

The site displays two nature pictures and a map. It’s short on information, weighing in at only four hundred words, three fourths of which are on the About Us page. It shares the basics and nothing more.

Their site reminds me of “An Intriguing Opportunity” from 52 Churches, a “meditation group of self-realization fellowship” that mixed the Bible, Bhagavad Gita, and Kriya Yoga.

We skipped that “church,” and I wonder if we should skip this one too.

They earn a reprieve, however, when their “theology” section mentions several items harking from the Protestant Reformation.

Though reeking of formality, at least my worry eases by confirming they’re a Christian gathering and not a cult or made-up religion.

Based on what little I can glean from their sparse website, I suspect we’ll find a traditional church mired in the past.

I hold out hope, however, there might be an exciting thread in their religious practices to appeal to my yearning for an intentional, spiritual community that seeks God in fresh ways.

Despite this small sliver of hope, my realistic expectation is to be disappointed. Still, it’s worth checking out on the off chance that they may offer what my wife seeks.

Arriving Early

At five miles away, it should be a quick eight-minute drive. Candy suggests we leave a half hour early, and I agree, fully expecting we won’t. However, we leave at the planned time.

In no rush, I pray as I drive, asking God to teach us what he wants us to learn and that we can give back to the folks there.

My heart rate picks up as we pull in the drive. My thumping chest confirms my anxious insides. The parking lot has thirty to forty cars, so I know there’s church and there will be a decent number of people.

I breathe out in relief but am still anxious. We’re fifteen minutes early and sit in the car for a few minutes before heading in.

A warm sun hits my face, balanced by a gentle breeze. Though the spring forecast is for 80 °F (27 °C) and humid with an afternoon chance of rain, there is only a hint of that now. It’s an ideal morning, perfect for church.

Given the weather, I’m wearing a T-shirt, shorts, and tennis shoes. I expect no one else will dress like me. I don’t care. If they judge me for my attire, this is not the place for me.

A Warm Welcome

As we approach the door, a smiling man in a suit rushes from the inside to open it for us. An affable fellow, he welcomes us with a sincere greeting and a hearty handshake.

Men congregate in the hallway, some eyeing me as we walk by and most nodding their welcome. Some say “Hi” or shake my hand. Several thank us for visiting, and we chat with a few.

Half the men wear suits and the rest, business casual. As I suspected, I’m underdressed. I’m not sure where the ladies are, but the entryway seems to be the men’s domain.

A man motions to a pile of fresh rhubarb sitting on a table in a side hallway.

“Help yourself,” he says with a gracious gesture, “but don’t wait too long because it will go quickly.” His eyes twinkle. I suspect it’s from his garden.

“I prefer that someone else have it,” I say with a smirk. He misses my attempt at dry humor and thinks I’m being generous, deferring to others. The reality is I don’t like rhubarb.

The building is newer, possibly built in the last ten years. It more resembles a single-story office building than a church. I like the feel. The hallway leads us to the sanctuary, a large rectangular room, about forty by sixty feet, with a flat ceiling.

The roving minister greets us by the doorway. “Welcome,” he beams with a wide smile. “I’m Ron. I work here!”

What an unassuming man. I immediately like him. “Sit anywhere you want.” He motions to the peopleless space. “There’s plenty of room now, but we fill up fast at 9:30.”

I consider his words, wondering if he’s serious. Realizing my confusion, he laughs. “Just joking. There will be plenty of room.” Then he flits off.

“Do you see any bulletins?” Candy whispers. I glance around and shake my head. Given the tenor of everything else here, I fully expect to see an usher handing out bulletins.

At the least, I think we’ll see some on a table or in a literature rack. I don’t.

Initial Thoughts

Perhaps I misjudged. Maybe this isn’t a bulletin type of church after all.

We mosey on in. Though the back rows are empty, people have already laid claim to them by laying their Bibles, bulletins, and even purses on the seats. We move midway into the room before we find a place to sit.

The row we pick has one odd chair. Though it’s padded like the rest and matches, it also has arms. “Do you want the one with the arms or shall I sit there?” Candy asks. I shrug.

A lady behind us tells us in the nicest way possible that we can’t sit there. It’s a special chair for a member who needs one with arms. I nod. Then I point to the other end of the row. “Can we sit there?” She confirms we can.

With a smile she gives Candy her bulletin. “My husband will get me another.” It’s a simple one-page document.

The front repeats all fifty words from the home page of their website, but instead of a waterfall picture, there is line art of a butterfly and flower.

The back gives their order of worship, with two announcements at the bottom: there’s a men’s forum Tuesday morning and women’s Bible study Tuesday afternoon.

The times of these events confirm what I see. This is a congregation of retirees. We may be the youngest ones here.

A Traditional Service

The service starts with a prelude, sung by five people with piano accompaniment. I’m not sure if they’re a choir or a worship team. The words appear on an overhead screen.

I assume it’s there for us to follow along, but some people sing too. They have a hymnal and every song listed in the bulletin comes from it. However, they also display the words overhead.

Except for the responsive readings, we don’t need the hymnals. Each reading has four parts: the leader, everyone, men, and women. However, it sounds like both genders read the men’s and women’s parts.

After three songs comes the invocation, which morphs into us reciting the Lord’s Prayer. I’m tentative, knowing there are variations for a few words, and I don’t want to call attention to myself by saying the wrong phrase.

Next is a lengthy congregational prayer and another hymn leading into the sermon.

During all this, a clipboard works its way through the four sections of chairs, distracting me from what’s going on in the service as it winds its way up and down each row.

On the top of the first page is a place for visitors to sign in and record their contact info. We are the first (and likely only) people to do so. Below it and on page two is a list of all the regulars.

They need merely check their name. I count forty-six member families on the list, mostly couples but some singles. With ninety chairs and at about 75 percent full, most of the people in their congregation must be present.

Today they have a guest speaker from a nearby denominational church. Given his affiliation, clues from the minister, and the style of the service, this must be a denomination church, albeit a stealth one.

I’ll need to apologize to Candy for dragging her here after I promised we wouldn’t visit any more denomination churches and her telling me she wouldn’t pick one.

The minister’s text is familiar, from Daniel chapter three, about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refusing to bow down to the golden monument.

His delivery is smooth, but his body language is off-putting, exuding a smug distance, bordering on arrogance. The tone of his words is sincere, but his actions are too slick.

Eventually I decide not to look at him and just listen. Still, I learn nothing new. By the end of his message, I’ve not taken a single note. I glance at Candy’s notebook. Her page is blank.

The bulletin says that next are “offerings.” I inwardly groan at the plural notation. However, despite what the bulletin states, they only take one. We sing two more songs, and the minister dismisses us.

Time to Connect

The woman behind us invites us to stay for coffee and cookies. We nod yes. It’s a good thing we agree, because she ushers us into the fellowship area so expectantly that I don’t think we could have escaped without being rude.

The woman’s husband stands by the door shaking hands and talking with people as they leave. I enjoy seeing someone other than the minister doing this. It feels more real and less forced.

Though Candy and I have a few moments of awkward silence as we stand in the fellowship hall, the people give us a lot of attention. Many thank us for visiting and encourage our return with the words, “We hope you’ll come back.”

As we talk with the folks, we tell them we’re new in the area and visiting churches. I share with several people that I saw their website and was intrigued.

Each time, they smile and nod. I’m not sure if this means they’re pleased their website is working or that they didn’t know they had one and are being polite. Either conclusion is possible.

As the crowd thins, the minister also comes up and talks some more. His attention is nice but not needed. The congregation excels at reaching out.

A second person apologizes that they had a guest speaker today and invites us back to hear their minister, who is “really good.”

Nondenominational Afterall

A third person surprises me. She says they’re nondenominational. I’m shocked, so sure they were part of a denomination.

I guess they can be nondenominational with a traditional vibe, just as The Church That Meets in a School was nondenominational with an evangelical vibe.

Even when people attempt to form a new faith gathering, they’re informed by their past practices and preferences. I wonder if a nondenominational church can truly be void of denominational influences.

Curiously, the person we talk to the most and make the deepest connection with is not a member. She lives in another town and comes to this church when she visits her parents. That makes her a regular visitor.

Interestingly, as we’ve visited churches, in many cases the person we connect with most deeply is also a visitor and not a member. This has happened too often to be coincidence.

Nevertheless, we leave feeling accepted and embraced. This is the friendliest of the churches we’ve visited so far and one of the few who shared food afterward.

Friendly, however, isn’t enough. Their services are too traditional to connect with me; their theology, too stoic; and their future, too dim.

If we were retired and wanted to plug into a comfortable church with idyllic ease in a close-knit church community, this would be the ideal place.

Comfortable, however, is not our goal.

Takeaway

Know that for many visitors, your church website will be their first stop. Make sure yours is inviting, easy to understand, and clearly communicates who you are.

[Read about the next church, or start at the beginning of Shopping for Church.]

Read the full story in Peter DeHaan’s new book Shopping for Church.

Travel along with Peter and his wife as they search for a new Christian community in his latest book, Shopping for Church, part of the Visiting Churches Series.

This book picks up the mantle from 52 Churches, their year-long sabbatical of visiting churches.

Here’s what happens:

My wife and I move. Now we need to find a new church. It’s not as easy as it sounds. She wants two things; I seek three others.

But this time the stakes are higher. I’ll write about the churches we visit, and my wife will pick which one we’ll call home. It sounds simple. What could possibly go wrong?

Peter DeHaan writes about biblical Christianity to confront status quo religion and live a life that matters. He seeks a fresh approach to following Jesus through the lens of Scripture, without the baggage of made-up traditions and meaningless practices.

Read more in his books, blog, and weekly email updates.