There is one question that I’ve been trying to find the answer to for years, more so just recently. It is part of the reason I feel certain that God has moved me to start a blog. In living through the aftermath, of what I deemed to be non-Christian behavior, I found myself questioning whether or not attending church actually had anything to do with being a Christian. After all, the persona of what I imagined a Christian would be was not what I was experiencing from various people in church. So where did that leave me in my desire to be a good Christian.
It was due to a great trial in my life, that I found myself seeking God out in a way that I never had before. In realizing the helplessness of my situation, I came to the conclusion, that I needed God’s intervention, desperately!
Although it was through trial that I found myself wanting a relationship with God, it was through great effort on my part that I developed one. I became so bonded to Him, that I could actually feel His presence in my heartbeat and sense His love surrounding me. I could easily recognize God’s inaudible voice, instructing me through situations in my life. I was feeling as close to Him as I imagine one could possibly feel, and yet I felt unsure of myself as a Christian. After all, I hadn’t found God at my local church. He’d been found through my devotion and alone time with Him. In of all places, it was my own backyard that I first felt His presence, completely assured of His existence. Despite that amazing experience, still in the back of my mind, I was clinging to some phantom belief that unless I attended church, I couldn’t have a real relationship with God.
As a child growing up, I could probably count on both hands the times my family attended church, and yet even as a child, it was a natural assumption for me, that people who attended church had some sort of special connection with God. A connection that I apparently didn’t have because I wasn’t a member of a church. I’d never attended Sunday school or bible study, I didn’t know the words to “Yes Jesus Loves Me.” And yet, as a child, I knew about God and sometimes I even prayed to Him.
Prayer was natural for me and I can remember praying during the final moments of my dad’s life, asking God to end his suffering. I’d seen my dad in and out of the hospital most of my young life, to the point that I almost felt he was invincible. I’d prayed numerous prayers for God to allow my dad to live, up until that final day of his life, when I’d asked God to take him. I knew how greatly my dad was suffering, I could hear his moans through the hospital door, and so in a moment of weakness (perhaps great strength), I asked God to end my dad’s suffering. Although I couldn’t bring myself to say the actual words, “allow my dad to die,” I knew that in order for his pain to end, his life would have to be sacrificed. Whether or not I believed in prayer, God ended my dad’s suffering that day, and I was left with a tremendous guilt. After all, what kind of daughter asks God to end her father’s life? Without even realizing it then, God was teaching me the gift of selflessness. To love my dad more than myself, willing to sacrifice my happiness for my dad’s peace.
Twenty years later, I would be faced with the death of my mom, holding her hand as she lay dying. I still didn’t attend church (I had no idea how to begin). Was an invitation required? Would God love me more if I went to church? Did he love me less because I didn’t? I can’t recall anyone ever telling me, but for whatever reason, church seemed to be of great value. Even on my mom’s deathbed, she’d spoken of her desire to see all of her children in church. Why was church so important? Did it hold the key to heaven? Knowing that neither of my parents where church goers, I wondered if they’d been excluded from there.
As a little girl, I grew up believing in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, God and heaven. Although I early on stopped believing in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, I still believed in God and I still believed that heaven was a real place beyond the clouds above me. I wanted to desperately believe that both of my parents were there, simply because they were amazing people. My mom was the type of person who sent a thank you card for a thank you card, giving selflessly to others. My dad, although he sometimes used colorful language (a remnant I suspect of his days as a sailor in WWII), he too was selfless in so many ways. I admired them both tremendously and so it grieved my heart to think that God could possibly disqualify them from heaven simply because they hadn’t attended church regularly. Was going to church really a prerequisite for going to heaven, having a relationship with God, or for being a Christian?
Was any of it as complicated as it seemed in my mind?
In finding myself at many crossroads in life, I can say, without any doubt in my mind, that church has nothing to do with heaven and it has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not a person can have a close relationship with God.
I have attended several churches, seeking out answers, and I have learned much from my experiences in those sanctuaries. I have seen both the goodness and ugliness of people from within the walls of church buildings, those professing to be Christians. I have been blessed with amazing pastors in my life and I have also been gravely harmed by pastors, to the point of feeling broken with no desire to pray or even read my Bible. None of those moments were without purpose, they became teaching moments for God and learning ones for me.
From those trials, God has shown me that standing behind a pulpit, sitting on a church pew, singing hymns to the heavens and taking communion, does not qualify us as Christians. Christianity has nothing to do with going to seminary or dressing in our best to attend services faithfully each Sunday. It has nothing to do with bible study, Sunday school, being baptized or joining a church. Instead, it is our actions in life that define who we are in God’s eyes. It is being true to Him and His word that qualifies us as Christians. It’s being the church, instead of playing church. It’s accepting Christ as our Lord and Savior.
Luke 16:15 – He said to them, “You are the ones who justify yourselves in the eyes of others, but God knows your hearts. What people value highly is detestable in God’s sight.
God knows the heart, He knows the genuineness and disingenuous of every man, woman and child and judgement is His alone. Our relationship with God is a personal one that only we can develop and for some of us that means going to church, but for others that means spending time with Him wherever we feel His presence. Our relationship with God isn’t contingent upon someone else’s suggestion of what it means to be a good Christian, it’s contingent upon God and His love for us and whether or not you know it, He does love you. He loves each of us, flaws and all, after all, He gave up His Son for every imperfect one of us.
John 3:16 – For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
It truly is that simple, if you believe that Christ is the Son of God then you have what it takes to become a Christian. If you aren’t sure what any of that means then pick up God’s word (the Bible) and start reading. I suggest you start in the New Testament first. Ask God to guide you, to help you comprehend what you are reading and don’t beat yourself up if you struggle in understanding the first, second, third or even the one hundredth time you read, because God will meet you where you are at.
If you haven’t found Him yet, then maybe, just like I had done, you are looking in all the wrong places. And maybe . . . just like me . . . you may find Him in your own back yard. One things is for certain, if you are truly searching, you will find Him. And once you do, your life will never be the same and trust me, that’s a good thing . . .
If you haven’t already read my post, If Jesus Placed a Help Wanted Ad, Would You Qualify for the Job, please take the time to read it. You qualify, you just may not have realized it yet . . .