On (Me) Skipping Church

I didn't go to church tonight.

Normally, I go to church twice on Sunday's, once on Wednesday's and once on Saturday nights. (The cries of "Overkill!" from you normal people reading this are deafening.)

I went this morning - laziness, a cold, and church the night before are hardly enough to prevent me from worshipping on a Sunday morning - even though I told my boyfriend:

"I don't want to get up and get ready for Meeting. I want to stay in bed and read and sleep all day."

My boyfriend currently lives in a country that is rather hostile to Jesus, God, and religion in general. He moved there about 7 months ago to teach English and has learned a thing or two about how important it is for Christians to find each other and meet together for regular encouragement. That means he responded in his characteristically diplomatic way:

"Darling, get up. You get to spend time with your Family today. That is a wonderful blessing. Soak it in."

Me being me, I had already been up long before I got his text, but tonight - in my churchless state - his words struck me.

See, I'm sated with church. I get my fill of Christian people. I have more opportunities to do ministry than I can accept.

So, tonight, when my nose was dripping, and my skin was hurting from my low-grade fever, and all I wanted to do was curl up and sleep off whatever virus I have, I didn't go to church.

I did exactly what I wanted to: I curled up in bed and slept and then drank hot tea and read half a novel.

But that's when C's words struck me.

"You get to spend time with your Family."

See, I have a choice to go to church 4 times a week, and meet with Christians friends and family for prayer, and wander around a hospital on a Friday night praying with strangers and handing out bottled water and snacks.

But for most of the Christian world, life isn't like that. For many Christians, they're lucky if they get a chance to meet once a week - and may be risking their life to do so.

While I sit at home and make choices about whether a certain denomination is more right than another, and decide whether or not I'm a good Christian by whether or not I made it to my second service on Sunday.

See, in countries like where C is, there aren't denominations because there can't be - and the Christians there haven't heard that you're allowed to define your goodness as a Christian by your regular church attendance. People whisper to one another rumors of like-mindedness and then secretly meet together. They risk their lives to learn more about a God that's offered to save them. They gather together in unity around Jesus' name - many of them having never read the story of Creation, or knowing anything about the people of Israel - God's first chosen people. They don't spend a lot of time arguing over whether people who believe in theistic evolution are going to hell because they aren't adhering closely enough to the literal interpretation of the Bible. They don't decide on where to meet based on a sign on a building. They don't refuse shelter to someone who is "likeminded"because they offer communion differently than they're used to. They cling to one another in love around the common cause of Christ.

So, I didn't go to church tonight - and I didn't go because I was sick - and that's all well and good and healthy.

But I still can't get around this: I didn't go because part of me felt like I'd had my fill. Part of me said, "Enough - you've done your duty."

That's not the part of me that I want to listen to when I'm deciding whether or not to skip church - because Jesus said I should be hungry and thirsty for righteousness (Matthew 5:6), and the Hebrew writer said to "not neglect to meet together"(Hebrews 10:25). And when I listen to the part of me that says, "A novel sounds much better than meeting with other Christians to sing praise songs and hear God's word preached", I'm pretty sure need a reality check.

My life isn't in danger for the sake of Christ. My life is so far from in danger that I can even trick myself into thinking that I have somehow attained "Good Christian Girl" status by church attendance and ministry opportunities.

But it's not about being a "good Christian" - it's about being hungry for the presence and knowledge of the One who died for me while I was yet sinning; it's about being a part of a community of people who are striving together for that Presence and Knowledge.

I'm pretty sure it was a wise choice not to go and infect the small children and the elderly people at church with whatever virus I have - but I'm glad that C reminded me this morning: meeting with the people of God is something I get to do. It's not a chore. It's not a quota that I have to meet. It's not a checkmark on my good-girl list. It's a privilege - and one that's afforded to really very few.

I'm so blessed to have so much Family around me - and tonight I'm prayerful for the many that don't. For all the people who will never know what I mean when I say I've had my fill of church for the week.

And no, I don't think you're a bad Christian if you don't go to church 4 times a week. *wink*