With our journey of visiting fifty-two churches over, I can reflect more on the complete experience. Today, I’ll add to my thoughts about Church #4.
A few years ago we visited this church when ours closed because of bad weather. At the time, they held two services and were outgrowing their building.
They purchased land and made plans for a larger facility. As I understand, some people objected, stirring up dissention and causing division. (See Romans 16:17.)
As a result, many people left in a huff, while those who remained consolidated into one Sunday service.
It’s sad when God’s people can’t get along and even sadder when their words and actions divide Jesus’ church. This is not what he desires.
Though differing opinions are inevitable and sometimes leaving a church may be the best solution, the dissidents need to depart quietly and without making a mess for those who stay.
Now, with the troublemakers gone, those who remain have formed a committed core group.
They are intent on being what a church should be: worshiping instead of being entertained, serving over being served, and pursuing God’s perspective rather than their own agenda.
They’re focusing on what matters. I am expectant for their future.
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.
With our journey of visiting fifty-two churches over, I can reflect more on the complete experience. Today, I’ll add to my thoughts about Church #3.
This church set a fine example in how they confronted tragedy in an honest way. I’m encouraged to see the church function as a church should, grieving together and supporting each other.
In the days after our visit, I prayed for this congregation, their pastor, and the family in the midst of heartbreak.
On a personal level, I wanted to return to experience a normal service, but after a while, I realized this wasn’t necessary. I’d already seen them for who they are, not from a typical Sunday but from a remarkable one.
Their character emerged out of calamity, shining as a bright beacon of hope, pointing us to God.
My memories of this church are bittersweet and the lesson they modeled is profound. More churches need to deal with pain in a forthright manner, not glossing over it, ignoring it, or wallowing in it, but by being real.
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.
With our journey of visiting fifty-two churches over, I can reflect more on the complete experience. Today, I’ll add to my thoughts about Church #2.
Visiting this church, a newer, accessible, nondenominational gathering, was as easy as Church #1 was challenging. Here, there were no awkward situations or outdated practices. We felt comfortable and at home.
Usually, the larger the church, the less friendly. This church is above average in size but was still welcoming. In fact, they were the largest church we visited that was also friendly, not one or two people, not just the greeters and staff, but everyone.
Even though many people weren’t sure if we were visitors or not, they excelled at reaching out.
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.
Our journey is over. I’m sad and excited at the same time. Our spiritual sojourn of fifty-two churches has ended. Reunion with our home church, church 53, community looms large.
Today is Good Friday and our Easter celebration will be in two days, but I can’t wait for Sunday. I desire a preview, a reminder of our home church. I want a sneak peak of what lies ahead. We head off for our church’s Good Friday service.
Good Friday Service
This time, I leave my journal at home—on purpose. I’ll not take notes tonight. Documenting my observations isn’t the point: experience is, community is, and family is.
Especially God. I assume a packed place, arriving early to find a good seat, but there’s plenty of room when we get there. We sit and wait. I want to soak in the place. It’s been too long. I need to remember.
I don’t seek out others, but it’s not long before a friend comes up to chat, and then another, and another. With a half hour before the service starts, the minutes pass quickly, as friends fill the time with smiles, hugs, and conversation.
Some can’t believe it’s been a year, that our journey is over. But a few didn’t know we were gone. This is the downside of a larger church. Absences can too easily go unnoticed. This isn’t a lament, just an observation.
Including the balcony, the place seats 475, but the space seems small. Compared to the last two churches, it is. The worship team congregates on the stage.
Our worship leader just had wrist surgery. He won’t be playing guitar for a while, and tonight he’s restricted in what he can do.
There are two others on guitar (one acoustic and one electric), a bass guitar, a keyboard, a drummer, and two backup vocals. I recognize most of the musicians but not all.
They launch into song, with launch being the operative word. It’s loud and energetic, worship at its fervent fullest, packed with joy and abounding in celebration.
Though a few of the churches approached this, and Church #51 (The Megachurch), came close, these folks take worship to another level, being polished and Spirit-led at the same time.
People on stage jump and dance, with more movement in the congregation than I’ve seen in a long time. I don’t need to wait to feel God’s presence or seek him. Without question, he is here.
We sing for forty-five minutes and our pastor gives a brief teaching before we return to song. It’s nice to be able to raise my hands and arms without worrying over committing a faux pas that might disregard local conventions.
After ninety minutes, most with us singing, the service ends. I don’t want it to. But our spent musicians have little left to give, especially our worship leader, whose sweat-drenched shirt confirms he gave his all to God.
I stand, looking for people I don’t know so I can talk to them. My journey has made me more aware of seeking out visitors and those on the margins.
Though I spot several to approach, others are already reaching out to them. That’s what a church should do.
Now feeling free to move about, I seek out friends. It doesn’t take long. Some conversations are brief, while others go deeper. We share prayers and give hugs. A few promise to email me, and I make plans to meet another for coffee.
After half an hour, the crowd begins to thin, but it takes several more minutes for Candy and me to meander to the door.
One friend says, “Have a Good Friday,” and then questions her wording, given the sadness of Jesus’s death.
“It’s good for us!” I say. She nods in agreement.
“Besides, without Good Friday—”
“There’d be no Easter,” we say in unison.
I tarry at the door for a final conversation as the sanctuary goes dark. We’re the last to leave. After two and a half hours, I’m still not ready to go home.
But we’ll be back in two days. Tonight is a foretaste of what is to come.
Sunday Morning Easter Service
It’s Easter and we’re returning home to our church, the people we love and miss. This marks our first Sunday back since last Easter. I expect a joyful homecoming and a grand celebration: personally, corporately, and spiritually.
We arrive early to meet our kids. While our daughter and her husband attend this church, our son and his wife make an hour drive to spend Easter with us, beginning our day together at church.
My plan is to lay low today, but friends spot me as we enter the sanctuary. They’re glad to see me and I, them. They’re not sure if I’m back for good or just visiting.
They seem relieved when I confirm our adventure wasn’t a church shopping exercise and our plan all along was to return after a year.
Our reunion takes place in the aisle, and we’re blocking people, so I excuse myself and look for my family. Even arriving early, there aren’t many places left for six, but they did find a spot.
Instead of roaming around to talk with others, I sit down and soak in the ambience.
There’s nothing special about the building, except perhaps its age. Located in the central downtown district, the sanctuary is over 150 years old.
Though not in disrepair, it’s far from contemporary. Even with many enhancements, a dated feel pervades.
Our pastor welcomes everyone, telling visitors what the regulars already know: there’s no plan for the service today, only a general intent. Its length is unknown, so it will end when it ends. He reiterates that we have freedom in worship.
We may sit or stand or kneel. We may dance or move about—or not. As is our practice, the children remain with us during the service, worshiping along with the adults but often in their own way.
There will also be adult baptism later in the service. A couple of announcements appear via video. With the place now packed, he asks the congregation to move toward the center and make room for those still needing seats.
The worship team is largely the same as Friday, but they changed out a couple of members and added a violin. They start the service with a prayer and then kick off the first song.
The energy level is high, up a notch or two from Good Friday. Some of the songs are the same. Candy says most of them are repeats. She’s probably right.
After thirty minutes or more of singing, we hear a brief message. The church is in a yearlong series—I’ve kept up by listening online.
Today the lesson is about Abraham and Sarah, her scheme for her husband to produce a child through her servant, and his bone-headed acceptance of her suggestion.
Our pastor ties this in with Easter: We all make mistakes, and we all need Jesus, who offers forgiveness and provides restoration.
Our pastor requests all elders to come forward to conduct the baptisms.
The elder assigned for this service goes to the front of the church, and I join him—so much for keeping a low profile. Our fellow elders and staff assemble with us.
Easter Sunday Baptisms
Our pastor shares the basics of baptism. The rite is the New Testament replacement for Old Testament circumcision, which he touched upon in the message.
Some say baptism symbolizes the washing away of our sins, a ceremonial cleansing, which publicly identifies us with Jesus.
Other creeds say baptism by immersion portrays the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. Can’t we embrace both perspectives?
People desiring baptism may come forward as the worship team leads the congregation in more songs. Even before hearing the full invitation, one person shows up and then another. A line forms.
For many churches, baptism is a somber affair, conducted with reserved formality. Not so for us. We treat it as a celebration with unabashed enthusiasm.
Our church leader prefers baptism by immersion, but the floor of this 150-year-old building lacks the structural integrity to support the weight of a baptismal pool.
Instead, we use a traditional baptismal font, with the goal to get as much water on the recipient as possible.
I talk with the second person in line, making sure she’s there for the right reasons. With much joy, she anticipates taking this step as part of her spiritual journey. I pray for her as we wait our turn.
The music is loud, and I’m not sure how many of my words she can hear, but God understands them all, and that’s what counts.
After the other elder douses the first person, a raucous celebration erupts from the crowd, applauding and cheering her public step of faith. We’re next.
We step up to the font, and I cup water in my hands. “I baptize you in the name of the Father . . .” releasing the water over her head and then returning for more. “And the Son . . .” I get more water. “And the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
As the throng shows their approval in unequivocal terms, I hand her a towel to dry off.
There’s not much room, so I try to usher her to the side and make room for the next baptism. But she won’t budge. Her adult daughter is next. We gather around as another elder conducts that baptism.
Afterward mother and daughter share a joyous hug, while friends hover nearby to share in the jubilation.
I return to the line of candidates, talking to the next person and baptizing her as well. We baptize a dozen or so this morning—and more will happen at the next service. What a glorious Easter and the perfect time to return home.
With the baptisms complete, I remain up front as the worship team continues. I sing along while I scan the crowd. Everyone is standing, and I don’t see an empty spot anywhere, including the balcony.
Even the back looks full. I wonder if some people stood the entire service, unable to find a place to sit. After a couple more songs, the worship leader concludes the service and the crowd slowly disperses.
I rejoin my family, wanting to focus on them instead of searching for visitors and friends. We eventually make our way out after ninety minutes. Some have already arrived for the next service, which starts in half an hour.
The End of a Pilgrimage
Today is an amazing reunion, a grand celebration, and a fitting conclusion to our yearlong pilgrimage.
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.
With our journey of visiting fifty-two churches over, I have the benefit of time to more fully reflect on the complete experience, starting with Church #1.
Every week, it was hard for me to walk into a new church, but the first time was the hardest. Although terrified, I had a good attitude.
Because of my positive outlook, I called it “a friendly church with a homey feel” and even admitted I could make it my church home—if I had to.
That was correct. And I must remember that most of the people there were really nice.
However, two things stand out as among the most awkward church of our entire journey.
First, being cornered by a hard-to-understand man, who recounted the diseases and deaths of his parents a few decades ago, was the most painful ordeal of the year.
No one at the church made any effort to rescue us from his unfiltered monologue.
As my face tried to smile, my insides screamed Will this ever end?
Second, asking “first time visitors” to raise their hands with only seventeen people present was another awkward church moment. Again, with a weak smile, I squirmed under the unwanted attention. Get me out of here!
Though this practice may have a place in a church of a couple hundred, it’s nonsense for a small church where the visitors are obvious. I often share this experience as a humorous example of what not to do.
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.
There’s a half hour span between the two services. As we wait, we recognize many people, waving “Hi” to some and enjoying meaningful conversation with others. Time passes quickly as we wait for the contemporary service to begin.
The stage is reset, with the orchestra section removed. This gives more room for the contemporary worship team of eight, the same group that concluded the “blended” service thirty minutes ago.
There are three on guitar, a bass guitar, two on keys, a drummer, and a backup vocalist.
The worship leader doubles as a keyboardist, while two guitarists also have mikes and sing backup. However, the other instrumentalists also sing along with glee. They play three songs, all different from the first service.
Their contemporary sound borders on light rock but lacks the edge I hoped to hear. “Safe” is the best description. Aside from the music, most of the other elements of the service are the same, albeit with some tweaking.
The message is a repeat, too, but ends differently. This time, after a moment for rededication, the pastor leads the congregation in a salvation prayer.
My wife likes this as a nice reminder of our decision to follow Jesus, but I fear people could too easily misunderstand it, assuming they need to “get saved” every week.
The pastor invites people desiring prayer to come forward afterwards to meet with the prayer teams. I so appreciate offering to pray for people, but few churches do this. Why?
The service ends with the worship team leading us in the same song that ended the first service. This time they play with more gusto.
The congregation disperses quickly, and we are among the last to leave, happy for the connections we experienced today with friends and acquaintances.
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.
The church has two services: a “blended” celebration, followed by a contemporary one. We go to both, starting with the blended service.
For their blended service, traditional organ music engulfs the space during the prelude, prompting enthusiastic applause.
On stage, an orchestra of fifteen plays for the opening song set. The amplified vibrato of the song leader fills the air.
Though rousing, I question their self-description of this being a “blended” service, for it seems most traditional.
Today’s theme is “True Sacrifice.” Members of the military, home for a time, are recognized and invited to come forward.
Their sacrifice for country is celebrated, noting that while being far more than the sacrifice of most people, it is also far less than the sacrifice of Jesus.
After applauding their service to our country, we stand for the Bible reading, first reciting 2 Timothy 3:16, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.”
Then our leader reads today’s text from Mark 14 and 15.
When finished, we affirm in unison: “This is God’s word, and we believe it is true.”
The teaching focuses on Jesus’ death, his sacrifice for us. Their senior pastor is an outstanding communicator, delivering his message with excellence and conviction.
To portray the anguish of “the cup” Jesus endured, they play a clip from The Passion of the Christ featuring the Garden of Gethsemane.
To wrap up the service a different worship team emerges, a contemporary ensemble to lead us in the final hymn, thereby fulfilling the “blended” promise of the service.
The pastor invites visitors to come to the front after the service to meet him.
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.
I’ve heard much about this church, likely the largest in the area, and am guarded over having too high of expectations. It’s an adventure just getting inside, with a policeman directing traffic and a parking lot crew to rival the best amusement park.
Using cutting-edge technology and exuding excellence in what they do, today is a treat. In the auditorium, the worship team of eight gathers up front. The countdown clock hits 0:00 and the worship leader welcomes us.
After an opening song set, one of the co-pastors comes up to share and pray. Then we watch video announcements, professional productions that command attention.
The church is in the midst of a series on leadership, with the premise that God calls us all to be leaders in our personal and professional lives.
Drawn from scripture, today’s message is most applicable to church leaders and is easily adaptable to business leaders.
Although the teaching is engaging, I have trouble understanding how it pertains to everyone else.
As the minister wraps up his message, a slide appears, asking everyone to “remain seated during the altar call.”
This confuses me, but I later realize the request is to keep people from leaving prematurely and distracting others who need to hear what the pastor says.
People raise their hands to rededicate their lives to Jesus and the pastor prays for them as a group. For those wanting to make a decision to follow Jesus, he leads them in prayer.
After the service, we turn in our visitor card and receive a tour of their grand facility. Our guide challenges us to come back for the next twelve weeks and see how our faith grows in the process.
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.
We park a block from church. As we hike to where we hope the entrance is, we engage in conversation with a woman, seeming to make a good connection.
I consider asking if we can sit with her, so we may follow her lead during the service. But she breezes inside and scurries away—so much for our connection.
The facility is smartly contemporary: open and airy. The altar is in the center of the sanctuary, with chairs (not pews—and no kneeling rails) positioned around it.
I estimate it seats over four hundred, with about 240 present, mostly middle age and older. Though a college parish, I don’t see many students.
The worship team is vastly different then our past two Roman Catholic experiences, consisting of a guitar, bass guitar, drum set, and piano.
Along with four vocalists, three of the instrumentalists also have mikes. Their songs are likewise contemporary, albeit unfamiliar.
For the Eucharist, I realize I can still have the spiritual experience of Holy Communion without actually going forward to physically receive the elements.
Even so, their process distracts me, and I miss connecting with God during the ceremony.
Afterwards I spot a friend, lingering to talk to her. Candy and I also chat briefly with the priest; he recognizes we’re visitors but makes no effort to learn our names. T
his might be because he’s distracted by a member hovering about, impatient to talk to him.
Given time, I suspect I could find a comfortable and meaningful rhythm in Catholic services.
However, even though this parish was friendlier than the other two, I still feel that making personal connections at Catholic churches presents a challenge.
This is troublesome, since the community aspect of church is important to me.
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.
With hundreds of people milling about, it’s a packed place. Just inside the door, a man approaches. “Have I met you before?” We assure him he hasn’t but he thinks he should know us anyway. He’s wearing an ear mic.
I wonder if he’s the pastor, but if he is, he doesn’t say so, merely introducing himself as John.
Almost all the ministers we’ve met attached their title to their name when they introduced themselves. John possesses neither the ego nor the insecurity to do so. I immediately like him.
Later, I’m not surprised when John walks up to the podium to give the message. He doesn’t preach a sermon as much as he teaches a lesson. He’s good, really good, the best we’ve heard on our journey.
Though a couple of preachers have been more dynamic, he’s the most effective communicator. This all makes sense when we learn he’s a former seminary professor with a PhD in biblical history.
At one point John tells members to look around after the service for visitors to greet.
Though he modeled this when he met us, no one followed his example then or his instruction now, not even the man sitting in front of us wearing a Deacon nametag; he looks right through us.
Only one couple approaches us; they look vaguely familiar. The wife recognized Candy; we attended the same church a quarter of a century ago.
Aside from them and John, six or seven hundred other people ignore us, perhaps not caring or maybe assuming someone else will take the initiative to extend a welcome.
If you want to remain anonymous at church, a big one is where it can happen. And at this church, it’s painfully easy.
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.
