People have been doing church for 2000 years. And many people within the church have been doing it their whole life. In fact, some people have done church so long they could do it in their sleep (and many have, while listening to me preach).  But for all the years Christianity has been doing church, and individuals have been a part—what is the point, the purpose, the core of church? What is its mission? For all our time spent in churches, have we answered these most basic questions about its identity?

On the whole, I don’t think we have. And I guess I should have asked those questions before I decided to go to Bible College to train as a pastor. But I didn’t.

Our culture has rightly called us out on the carpet. Today, everyone outside the church has answers for what the corporate church is—a money-making machine, the place where men sing of their strange love for another man, where the self-righteous go to pat their own back. So with all these supposed-misconceptions, how are we Christians supposed to respond?

For many years within Christianity, we saw the church merely as the group of people who are “saved” and are about getting other people “saved.” Church was about growth, about evangelism, about saving the “lost.” Many people outside the church didn’t feel lost, but we decided to call them that to their face anyway.

And many churches grew, and many people were found. But for what? Does this whole Christianity thing end when you get saved? Is the rest of our time on Earth supposed to be spent twiddling our thumbs while we wait to contract some terminal illness that will take us to Heaven?

In Bible college, sometimes we read the Bible. When I would read the Gospels, I was struck with the ministry of Jesus. He healed people, He gave incredibly bold teachings about life, and He was a general nuisance to the religious people of His day. He spoke of a Kingdom that would come in the future, God’s Kingdom, a Kingdom that was very different than the kingdoms of the world. It redefined what success was, what power was, and what meaning was. And Jesus said it wasn’t just something for the future; it was something that had come with His arrival.

What a minute. I thought Jesus came to die on the cross and make us “saved.” Wait, wait, wait, hold-the-phone—he actually did stuff? He actually asked us to do stuff? This wasn’t my momma’s Jesus. This wasn’t my church’s Jesus.

This Jesus of Scripture was calling people not only into a right relationship with God and salvation, but to a life of service in God’s Kingdom. He was calling people to be a part of God’s community, the church, and bring a taste of His Kingdom to earth. It was to be a community of God’s people based on God’s values, and God’s heart.

As Christians, we are God’s people on a mission for Him. And that mission is to create communities that bring God’s Kingdom into every context we encounter. Life isn’t about waiting to die, it’s about bringing life everywhere we go—as God’s ambassadors, we bring a taste of Heaven to Earth.

Your will be done on Earth, as it is in Heaven.

Our contemporary culture collectively despises a variety of things. For example: Kanye West, delayed gratification, George W. Bush, Truth with a capital “T”, oil companies, and parking tickets—just to name a few. But one of the most infamous objects of abjection is the Church. I’m talking about the whole thing—the invisible, conglomeration of demented denominations and off-kilter peoples, past and present, sometimes strictly, sometimes loosely tied to Christ. The Church is the entity found thoroughly demoralized in living-room conversations all around the country—a universal scapegoat for every religious fault.

Does the Church deserve this kind of debasing and disparity? Hmm. Well, it has done a few things wrong. Okay… it has done a lot of things wrong.

But finding fault in the Church is like taking candy from a baby. There’s so much that could be said! Turning Jesus into a commercial industry? Yep, we’ve done it. Killed millions in the name of our leader? Check. Been a general nuisance in the public domain? Uh-huh. Screwed over someone in your family at one time or another? Probably one time and another.

Having listed just a few reasons people commonly hate the Church, it does seem justified for one to utterly despise such an institution. Okay. So, that’s it—article over. Go egg a Christian’s house.

Wait, no. Don’t do that.

I can relate to those who see deficiencies in the Church. To be more reasonable, we might even call these deficiencies what they really are: incredible failings. I myself have even spent the last few articles critiquing some facets of the Church (Discipleship in the Church, Contextualizing Jesus). So even I agree that some form of criticism needs to be voiced. But not as it is often done, and not from who we often are. Allow me to explain.

Today we generally have three camps who are overly-critical about the Church: those who are choosing to remain within the Church who maintain a love/hate relationship with the thing; those who have left the Church, but still find it amusing to continually explain all of the many reasons they left and won’t ever return; and those who are outside the Church, and have always been outside the Church. Many of these different people want to metaphorically burn the current Church. And then burn the ashes. And then throw the microscopic remains in a chasm.

I will primarily/exclusively be addressing the first group–those who are within the Church who have major misgivings about its current state, those who may be attempting to reform the Church, and/or those who could be on the verge of excommunicating themselves. These are people who might find the content of this article worthwhile.

As for the other groups: people who have always been outside the Church have no basis for ceasing their attacks upon the Church, or relenting from their anger. The only way to heal wounds they bear is through a changed Church that can drastically alter their secular perspectives. Likewise, ex-Christians, by leaving the Church, have no further responsibility or pressing need to reconcile with the Church. It is clear that by removing their identification with the Church, they have no desire to put into practice anything I might say about dealing with their frustrations.

So, back to the question-at-hand: for all us pissed-off Church attenders, all us blue-like-jazzercizers—what do we do with all our pent-up angst regarding the Church? Many of us are turning to new systems of thought, new church structures, and new social gatherings that we would call “progressive.” These “radical” communities are redefining Church practices with all the vigor and idealism available in our youthful bodies, but often while critically deconstructing the church of the past. Some of us are remaining within the older conventional structures, but reluctantly and with a touch of resentment for what we are participating in. And there are others of us that are ready to call it quits with everything new and old. Well for all of you disenchanted Christians who find yourself on board the new, or the old, or the non-existent—let me give you three simple reasons you ought to let go of your bitterness and love your flawed peers and ancestors:

First of all, God doesn’t like complainers. It only takes one reading of the Exodus account for this to be apparent. The Israelites were kept in the wilderness for 40 years and unable to see the land that was promised to them because of their complaining and their grumbling against God. Again and again in the account of their journey you see them complain, and God hear their complaint with some measure of patience. But enough eventually becomes enough and God drops the hammer.

This cycle of complaining permeates our current Church. The tie that seems to unite some new church movements is their mutual hatred and grumbling. But these movements will have nothing to stand on because their agenda is actually a petty vendetta! And for others of us who are a part of existing church structures—by just simply grumbling against the current state, we will be making no forward progress, but merely add to the confusion and frustration of the present. The fact is, if we base ourselves or our gatherings upon complaints, we will end up in an ideological wilderness—when all the dust settles from our criticisms, we’ll be left in a desert we created.

The second reason that we should be more respectful of expressions of the Church is because, contrary to popular belief, we came from them and are sharpened by them. Not one of our new movements (or even old movements) could exist without building upon the past mistakes, and past successes. Whether we are aware of it or not, we could not have reacted to institutionalized Church, and created a decentralized model unless there had first been men who attempted to institutionalize the Church. Given their circumstances and put in their shoes, we might have made the exact same mistakes they have.

We are often oblivious of this reality. We believe that we create our structures ex nihilo, or out of nothing, and that our only influence is the Word of God and our own ingenuity. But that’s ridiculous. The truth is we are building on the work of many well-intentioned, albeit flawed, human beings. And someone, one day, will build upon our well-intentioned, flawed structures as well. Respect the process.

The third and final reason, and the most obvious reason we ought to embrace the current Church is that Jesus loved/loves the Church. In fact, Jesus’ ministry was to pass on teachings that would shape the Church, and then He died to create it. Did He teach and die exclusively for a perfect Church? Well, if you read the Bible, the perfect Church lasts but a few chapters in Acts. If you go on to read through the pastoral letters (Galatians, Corinthians, ect.), it becomes obvious that the Church of the Bible is rife with all kinds of issues—people turning Christianity into a competition for righteousness; people making money off the institution; people using it for power; people participating in all kinds of hypocritical, sexual, and corrupt practices.

We often get this sense that the Church of the Bible was very different than our own, and only since the advent of the Roman Church-state did the Church truly become deficient. False. It has always been deficient. But Jesus, knowing the Church was deficient, bore the deficiency in His own body, and gave Himself for it—”while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

Of course, as I said before, I see the need to deconstruct the Church and reevaluate many aspects of it—as long as that deconstruction does not simply end in absolute destruction. And the motivation for this should be a concern and love, not a heart composed of hardened resentment.

If we succumb to bitterness, we will attract people of similar attitudes. And it can be assured—a group of people who are first-and-foremost critics will not remain united for long. The scrutiny will quickly transfer from the external ideals to the fellow members of the congregation. People will devour each other. And you will have nothing but a bunch of individual complainers who simply don’t want to put in the hard work of being an agent for positive change.

It is clear in the example of Jesus that we have the fullest expression of how to deal with deficiency. We live to change it, and we sacrifice our very being to see it reborn. People who want to grumble and complain will quickly find themself outside the Church where they can maintain their negative perspectives. They will attract similarly-minded people, and participate in an enterprise that leads absolutely nowhere. But those who want to do something about the Church, and see it changed for the better will live like Christ. They will recognize the failings of the Church, but give their lives to see the wrongs made right. They will build a bridge of peace from the past to the present. They will bear the scrutiny and shame of being associated with such a flawed and human institution, but will likewise participate in a future glorification as the people of God.

And the Church may remain hated by culture, but will always remain unimaginably dear for those who cling to Jesus.

I like myself. I like myself a lot. And you like yourself too.

Let me illustrate this profound point: Let’s say you meet someone for the first time, and you begin some sort of ice-breaker conversation. In the midst of your friendly banter you discover that this new acquaintance shares similar music tastes. As a result, he climbs a little higher on the likable-continuum. And then you discover his political ideology is in line with yours. Consequently, his worth rises even higher in your humble estimation. This series of events continues on and on; you find yourself affirmed in nearly every aspect of your life. It turns out that this chance meeting may have resulted in you finding your new best friend.

When we find ourselves reflected in other people, we get filled with warm and fuzzy feelings. Yes, when others share in the glory of our perspectives and positions, we feel that much more solidified in the right-ness of our convictions. This is because we really, truly, whole-heartedly like ourselves and think we hold the best perspectives. Yes, despite all of our social-dysfunctions, and our overly-critical self-analysis–we still really like ourselves and the opinions we possess.

Now the only thing in the world that we enjoy more than possessing our opinions, is the act of professing them. I mean, how many times have you told someone about a movie you love, that they HAVE to go see? When they come back and have loved it as well, the sense of satisfaction is absolutely palpable. But when they come back at odds with your opinion, it feels like a personal affront.

This is called influence. Influence can be used to expose people to our perspectives and positions. Influence can also be used as an agent of change.

Jesus asks us to employ this influence, this agent of change. In fact, He demands it when He says that we are to “Go and make disciples.” There’s no doubt that plenty of individuals and churches today are influencing culture–just look at church attendance, and book sales–but to what end? For all of that influence, are churches and individuals employing it for the task Jesus called us to? Are we doing a good job “making disciples?”

Well it depends on how you define a disciple.

Today, the word disciple seems synonymous with regular-attender; convert is another word for baptized; mature believer is just another way of saying that you frequent a small-groups ministry. Are these conditions unrelated? Well, maybe not outright. But one’s attendance to an event does not necessitate an assumption about matters of the heart.

However, that does seem to be the practical rule by which we judge if people are disciples or not. And it makes the process of being a disciple much more accessible, albeit much less life-changing. See, if we link participation in programs to spiritual depth then we dumb down the process of being a disciple to a series of habits we invented. All you need is a few hours open during the week, and you have become just as saturated in spirituality as the next guy. You are a disciple because you do what other church-goers do.

Evangelism is also affected by this perspective. It becomes an exercise in trying to get other people to do what church-goers do. The first goal is, clearly, to get people through the doors of your local church building. Then it is to get them in the spa your church installed within the sanctuary. Then it is to get them in someone’s living room once a week. Mission accomplished–another clone cut from the melting ice-block that is contemporary Christianity. You have effectively exercised your influence to create another disciple. But a disciple of whom?

Now there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that most leaders and pastors do not set out from the beginning to perpetuate this system of discipleship. Certainly, they do not. Church services and small groups are all built to fuel a spiritual fervor found in the authentic hearts of believers. They are meant to be springboards for a lifestyle lived 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. But do they accomplish that?

I find the answer to be a resounding “no.” The systems that were built to serve Jesus instead become places where Jesus serves only as content. Instead of seeing these structures as ways to accomplish Jesus’ mission for the church, they are seen as the mission-already-accomplished. And inevitably, as things grow, the results pastors look for move away from the results Jesus looks for–successful programs, and excited people, instead of people conformed to His example, and changed communities.

We use our influence to create disciples that do the things we do. And when we see people do the things we do, we feel good; we feel accomplished. Remember why? Yes, of course you do–it’s because we really, truly, whole-heartedly like ourselves.

What is it worth though, if we simply convert people to our culture, and never to our savior? What kind of reward is that worth in heaven if we baptize 100,000 people into our church? I promise you–we all high-five each other, and sing ’til we’re blue in the face the day 100,000 people get wet in our baptistry. But if it accompanies no change of heart, doesn’t it end right there in that backwards dip and self-satisfied celebration?

Let me be clear–if our discipleship produces anything outside of believers who resemble Jesus and are changing our communities, then we have not participated in successful discipleship.

So I ask–what is our church baptizing people into? What is our church membership class indoctrinating people with? What are our programs perpetuating? Are Christians today looking like disciples of Jesus or disciples of our programmed communities? Are we loud and proud about our theology, our strategy, and our effectiveness? Or are we boasting in Jesus and relinquishing our powers of influence to Him?

Sure, we can gather in meetings both large and small, and create mirrors of who are. We can surround ourselves with others that affirm a similar lifestyle, and a similar interpretation/doctrine/perspective, and feel good about it. We can change what we believe about success. And then accomplish it with ease. We can create a system of spirituality, and exercise our influence to hold others to standards we author.

But that would not be making disciples of Jesus. Our benchmark ought not be us, it ought to be Jesus. And our influence ought not be used to create people who look like us, doing similar things we do, but it ought to be used to perpetuate the work of Christ, and lead people to do the things that He did.

I know you like yourself. I like myself too. I know you like your church structure. Yeah, me too. But it’s time we all took an ideological bullet to the head, die to ourselves, and live for Jesus. It’s time we become disciples of Him.