Why I go to Church

The other night, someone asked me: "So why do you go to church?"

"I go only because I have to go." Meaning there are times when I don't go because I want to go, but because I need to go. 

"Shame on you!"  

I was a little embarrassed and taken aback by his reaction, so I didn't really get to explain myself. 

But I thought I'd do it here.

I don't go to church just because I want to hear from God or worship. It is not wrong to want to hear from God and worship. However, there's always the whole week to do all these things, not just through the sermons and songs which I've been too distracted to listen or participate wholeheartedly of late. You see, when you are a mother of an active, curious toddler who finds even our rather bare church creche a fascinating place; when you sit in the creche surrounded by other active toddlers and their coaxing parents; when your toddler sometimes soils her nappy in the middle of the service and then you have to go off to wash her bottom before nappy rash sets in... how can you not be distracted and worn out, not to mention over-stimulated? (I don't doubt that there are supermoms among us though.) I honestly can't imagine having more than one kid. 

Being a little anti-social by nature (OK, maybe "a little" is an understatement), I also don't go to church because I want to meet people and fellowship. I don't really want to meet people and fellowship. Just in case this gets misinterpreted, I love my friends and I get along well with most of the people at church. However, going to church on a Sunday (not to mention big, combined services events) means having to see and be seen by everybody at one go. This has never been the most restful thing for me. Sunday is often the most tiring day of the week. Sometimes, it can even be stressful. Given a choice, I would rather stay home and greet everybody via Facebook. And there's always the rest of the week to do one-on-one coffee dates with the people who won't give you well-meaning suggestions on how your life could be more well-spent ...  Yet, I still go to church. Week in, week out. Rain or shine. 

Here is why:

First, I may be anti-social, but being disconnected from my community of faith for too long does impact my personal walk with God. I become lazier, slower to hear, quick to anger, and reckless to speak. Temptations don't get resisted quite enough and I sin like there's no tomorrow. I might not agree with everything my church practices, and yet, I agree with plenty of other things. Going to church reminds me of those other things - Christians values I choose to live by - at least once a week and that keeps me on track while I live, work, and witness in the world. It is too easy to be influenced by its ways.

Secondly, I go because Sundays are about commemorating Christ's life on earth as well as anticipating His glorious, triumphal return at the end of time. We gather as His people to remember something of Christ that anchors us and then rehearse through liturgy the great eternal feast... when our differences would no longer matter; when we joyfully meet friends and family whom we've not seen in a long while, when we will worship God with one voice; when His everlasting Word will dwell in our midst and etch in our hearts the truth and nothing but the truth; and when our Lord will feast with us. It is important that we rehearse because it helps us look forward despite our personal struggles, losses, and the passing away of people dear to our hearts - not only as individuals but also as part of a community of faith. You can't rehearse if you don't come to church. Not unless the church comes to you; well, maybe when you've grown ancient enough.

Lastly, I go because the space our congregation gathers in - i.e. the building - means a lot to me. While I am certainly for the church without walls concept (meaning church is much more than the building; church is the people, who should be salt and light in our communities), the building is a sacramental space. In the Old Testament, God revealed Himself and affirmed His covenant relationship with Israel by the means of spaces - "holy grounds". Think Mount Sinai, the Tabernacle, Solomon's Temple, etc. In the New Testament, the revelation of God is tied to Jesus Christ rather than "holy grounds". However, this does not mean that spaces lose their sacramentality or potential as the loci of God-human encounters. Jesus' references to the God's Kingdom at hand suggest that Heaven has overlapped with Earth through His first coming (and going). The overlap is a flexible, invisible space in which God's presence is always accessible - yet in the world but not of the world. Those who have repented and believed receive the grace to belong in the overlap - it follows you wherever you go. What happens when a building, its architecture, interior decoration, rich symbols, music, and the weekly celebrations that take place in it become associated with Christian fellowship, worship, Communion, the hearing of God's word, and authentic encounters of God's love? The building becomes a place that embodies the overlap - rather like how a blown-up balloon gives shape to the invisible air (or gas) that fills it...or how our bodies gives shape to our invisible souls. In other words, the church building conveys to me the reality of the overlap, which I often forget about or ignore for the rest of the week. It is in the building (and not so much in my bedroom or the shopping mall) that my awareness of living in the overlap of eternity and time is refreshed and deepened - and I am comforted in my present sufferings. Besides, the building is where I used to work, where I ate a lot of humble pie (that is good for the soul), where Sophie's parents met and fell in love, where they got married in the sight of God and man, etc. How can I not feel the need to return to this place every week, even when I don't feel terribly excited about it?

There you go. I go to church because I have to go.

Like love, going to church is an act and not merely an emotion.