Here is my dilemma: I am picking a church to attend and there are two pairs of eye glasses sitting in front of me. I try one pair and see a particular church through the eyes of someone who asks, “What appeals to me more, traditional or charismatic?” I put on the second pair and see the same church, but quite differently. In fact, it is much harder for me to see this church at all—hard, because I am looking through the lens, or spectrum, of truth and non-truth. Here is where the choice comes in. I am blind, and I need glasses. These two have been set before me. Which one will I choose?
That the former option provides a choice more reasonable and surmountable cannot be denied. Furthermore, within a multi-denominational world only a theological Einstein would want to tackle the question of truth and non-truth within the already truth-imbibed arena of contemporary Christianity. I often feel that I would be left with only one option—the lens of charismatic and traditional—if I were to choose from such a vast diversity of churches.
And yet it all just seems too easy. If I go to a music store I can browse for hours through different genres and artists, and often find that I am equally attracted to different kinds of music. In the same way, I can go to the grocery store and easily buy plenty of food, depending on what I am in the mood for at the time. I can do the same thing while looking for a church. Whether it is extremely charismatic, extremely liturgical, or an amorphous mix, I can often choose one form or the other based on my impression (and often on a very whimsical level).
But choosing a church is a far cry from choosing a great album, or a delicious steak. While I need to feel enriched and fulfilled in whatever worship ‘experience’ I choose, should I not look deeper? My worship should be true. Indeed, what if my worship was true, and yet I was still not ‘interested?’ This seems to be more the fault of my fallen nature, than that of the particular form of worship. Indeed, I should bend myself to the worship and not the worship to me.
I am sure you have heard the common phrase “I went to ______ Church and felt that there was no life or faith in the service.” While this could be true in many cases, should I always rule out the possibility that the person needed to be corrected, and not the church? The question that follows is, of course, how am I to know whether I need to bend or whether the worship does. Is there a worship ‘measuring stick’ by which I can measure my own insufficiency or must I measure worship by the faulty measuring stick of my own life? The answer is certainly not an easy one, but I believe that it starts with switching lenses.
Once I do, I realize that life becomes more complex. Immediately I see that more time, prayer, and (dare I say) education is needed when deciding where I should worship, and what church I should call home. Do not think for a moment that I am advocating for an impression-less decision, made strictly on the basis of stoic intellectualism and research, but a certain amount of objectivity can always shed new and important light on a seemingly equally balanced choice. From this point, I will begin to see a church’s past, riddled with schism and confusion; yet I must accept that past, that historical reality, if I decide to worship at that church. Through the search, I might even remember the hope of Christ, which is “for those who will believe in [him] through their message, that all of them may be one … just as [the Father is in him] and [he is in the Father]” (John 17:20-21). The prayer is clear, and yet the reality is not. Determining the lens through which I will view a church, a place of worship, however, will not only help in my day-to-day worship of God, but may even draw me closer towards shaping my view of the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.
