What Does it Mean to be “Church”?

What does it mean to be "church"?

This morning a few people sat down together at the local coffee shop for a "Theological Coffee Hour." Our conversation was not particularly theological, if by that one means some sort of heady and intellectual discussion about God. On another level, it certainly was theological because God was at the center of our discussion.

Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that our conversation was ecclesiological because we spent most of our time answering the question about what it means to be church without having ever asked it! At the table were three generational views: Silents, GenX, and, yours truly, a "cusper" (born in between the Boomers and the GenXers). We had one clergy person and three lay people. Three of us could be considered "lifers" when it comes to participation in church and one would probably be considered a "seeker" who is looking for the community that best fits his journey of faith.

The question that took us into this ecclesiological conversation was simple: What is the Emerging Church? I won't go into an explanation here because there are probably better people to answer that in a technical sense.

What strikes me as a replay the conversation in my mind is the way our conversation moved from talk of the church as institution to the church as community. We didn't talk about doctrine or core beliefs or canon law. Instead, we talked about the yearning to participate in a community of faithful people who listen to God, follow Jesus in their daily lives, and live with an almost organic structure that encourages diversity and provides a place of contemplative silence. We talked about the American society in which we live with our lack of rootedness and our desire of home. We discussed the yearning people feel to be connected and the need to bring together generations so that we can discover and create a proper balance of wisdom and action. The church, we realized, is one place that allows all of this to happen, one place that provides a spiritual home for those who yearn to be connected with others and with something (or perhaps it is better to say Someone) beyond themselves.

In a recent blog, Diana Butler Bass wrote the following:

Younger Americans feel greater ambivalence toward the word "Christian" than do older adults. In 2005, the Barna group polled 16-29 year olds asking the question, "What do you think of when you hear the word 'Christian'?" 91% of young adults outside the church replied, "anti-homosexual;" 87% responded "judgmental;" 85% said "hypocritical;" 72% reported that Christians were out of touch with reality; and 68% pegged Christians as "boring." ("Who are Christians Anyway?", June 14, 2010)

Well, that's daunting, isn't it? Especially among GenXers and Millenials, fewer and fewer Americans see the church as a place where one can be a Christian. Or, they are simply rejecting Christianity because they equate being Christian with the institution of the church. For as long as I can remember, folks in the church have said that young adults will come back to church once they have children and want them to be baptized and go to Sunday School. Well, if the Barna survey reflects accurately the attitudes about Christianity and the church, the vast majority of those young adults are not going to walk through the doors of our buildings . . . ever!

Where is our hope? Well, I find hope in my conversation this morning with one GenXer who is seeking God through the community we call the church. I'm not sure if he will "join" Christ Church or not, but that may not be the most important end result. If we can find a way to help him ask his questions and find a deeper relationship with God through Christ, then perhaps that is a great success. Joining is, after all, a very institutional sort of thing. What matters most is that we open doors that invite people to follow Jesus, that we create relationships based on divine grace, joy, love, and radical hospitality.

So, what does it mean to be "church"? My conversation today tells me that how we answer that question will make all the difference when it comes to our future vitality as a community of faithful people. Ultimately, what will matter most are not the words we use to answer the question. What will matter is how widely we open our doors—the doors of our buildings and the doors of our hearts—and how faithfully we live in the world.

Relections from the Center of Exeter

I'm sitting at Me and Ollie's in Exeter, NH (a very informal place to hang out with some coffee) and blogging on my iPhone. I'm old enough to be struck by the oddity and wonder of the fact that I don't have my computer but I can still do this. Of course, it's possible this won't work, so I should probably keep this short (and the fact that I'm using this tiny keyboard should limit any reflections at the moment; my thumbs can only take so much!).

I hang out at Me and Ollie's a couple of times a week. Most of the time someone drops by for a conversation. Sometimes I have about 90 minutes to myself to read, catch up on email, or get some work done. By far the best days include a conversation.

With no one dropping by today I can watch people. Most are gathers in pairs having a conversation. A few are alone, reading or working on computers. Some stand in line waiting for their order to be taken. Some sit outside, some inside. A name is called when an order is ready. As the afternoon continues the crowd thins and the music played continuously in the background can be heard.

All of this strikes me as a 21sf century experience of community. In a sense, Me and Ollie's stands in the place of the old village greens, town commons, and town squares, those places that today are public parks but were in the past places where anyone and everyone gathered. Everyone is welcomed here and everyone is invited to find a place, with others or alone, connected by wireless or in conversation with another person.

I'm not sure what any of this says about building community in the church, but I suspect we need to create some new spaces to allow community to be formed more organically and less programmatically. This isn't my idea, by the way. I read about this in an article, the title of which escapes me at the moment. I believe this is one of the challenges and opportunities facing the church in 2010. We need to create common places that invite the creation of community. And we shouldn't concede that task to a coffee shop (no matter how much I like the
coffee shop!).

My thumbs are tired. Time to stop blogging, at least for now. If you read this and you live on the Seacoast of New Hampshire, drop by Me and Ollie's on Tuesdays at 3:30 or Thursdays at 7:30. I'll be ready for a conversation.