I live in a largely Christian world, and spend a lot of my life with other non-New Church Christians. We are active members of the United Church of Christ, a Methodist-Presbyterian mix that formed 50+ years ago when neither church could stand on its own (if you’re wondering what kind of doctrine comes from such a mix of conflicting dogmas, the answer is that we are the Christians who are neither Baptist, Lutheran, or Catholic, and we don’t sweat the small stuff.). 

Over the years Mark and I have become deeply connected to other members, especially older couples who have lived clean and meaningful lives without fanfare, who consistently serve as deacons, cooks, trustees, board members, choir members, tech support, and anything else that is needed, all in their volunteer church life. Churches are a wonderful avenue to community, even aside from any religiosity–a fact that is often missed in the mainstream media in its lament over the problems of loneliness and broken relationships and disease. Our tech guy, Jose, who films countless services and other events at the church, sometimes as a volunteer, recently announced that he will retire this summer. In his announcement he gruffly stated, “I don’t really consider myself a religious person” with a rueful laugh, adding, “The church family means a lot to me.” I suspect he will discover that he still wants to come to church, just because.  

What is it about coming to church every 7th day that is so powerful? It’s such an easy commandment to keep, compared to some of the others! Just a habit, do-able for those of us lucky enough to not be in 24-hour service shifts. While we have been through many phases with our church, I’m finding that once you put in enough time, the familiarity and comfort, coming from a thousand hymns and prayers chanted together and a thousand conversations over coffee fellowship builds, imperceptibly, until suddenly a child whom you watched grow up or an old person you watched grow old is confiding in you as a trusted friend.

I was interviewed by the host of “Choose to be Curious” as a fellow person of the media, a label that we were both reluctant to own for many years. (I am also a radio show host and a reporter for the paper). In it we discuss the lack of media coverage on the fact that millions of people worldwide consider their church community to be their strongest defense against loneliness, purposelessness, and bitterness. I think this lack of attention is improving however; I heard a show about the benefits (not abuses) of religious life on public radio recently, and also read a long article in a magazine about brain health, outlining the ten benefits of being part of a religious community.

My parents prefer to watch a New Church service on zoom rather than attending any church in person. For them, church is more of an intellectual exercise. It’s all about taking in the message of the sermon. I do get it, but there is a loss there, both for them and for local churches, that they are not taking part other than peripherally. Maybe someday the distinctiveness of a sermon informed by Swedenborg will seem less important than the rewards of worshiping the Lord Jesus Christ together in person on a Sunday morning.

Somewhere I heard the salient notion that the worst time to be an atheist is when you are feeling grateful and have no one to thank! So true! I feel such sadness for anyone who misses out on that expansive, joyful, chest-filling, deep-welling sense of gratitude and glory that come to me on occasion. Who would ever miss the chest-filling moment of joy when singing “Christ the Lord is Risen Today” on Easter morning in a thunderous crowd? Jerry, our former neighbor, father of three homeschooled children our girls’ ages, and member of the local baptist church, said it best one Easter morning as passed each other on our way to our respective churches. “We are the lucky ones today! We get to sing!”