When I first started this “spiritual quest” concerning my involvement and place in church (approximately six years ago), I was confused, angry and deeply disturbed at where I found my faith taking me. There just came a point in time where I couldn’t shake the thought that this form of Christianity – this nicely packaged, syrupy sweet cliché “place” where I sat and watched the show unfold… was really the only expression of the vibrant faith encapsulating my Jesus. Oh – I checked the box week after week that said I was there…at that place… but I really wasn’t engaged with the production unfolding before me. And week after week the feelings of despair continued to mount as I sat silently screaming about the futility I found myself drowning in.

Some may think I am being slightly overdramatic – but to me, those years of patiently trying to find a church where I belonged was a time of insidious soul-killing. I felt like I a part of me was dying every time I went to church - and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why?

What kind of Christian “hates” going to church?

 It became more apparent that sleeping in, or going on a trip that just happened to keep me out of town on Sundays was desperately more important and comforting than donning my finest outfit, trying to find a parking place… as well as a seat… at the local place my surname claimed residence at. And so I stopped going for awhile. That is until the guilt caught up and I would resignedly head back once more to keep up the pretense that I was a good Christian writer who was a part of her church. (I mean, if you write a column about religion for the local paper… you should go to church, right?)

This cycle continued for awhile. The hypocrisy of my life was beginning to get to me, but I really didn’t know what else to do. I knew that something had to change – and either it was me or my church.

But, let me back up a bit. In my quest to understand what I have been missing, and having such a hard time finding - it finally came together about three years ago. The diagnosis of what I was feeling and experiencing actually had a name – and I truly discovered it by chance.

Digging through each book in the Religion section of the Visalia Borders, I came across this work by Dan Kimball entitled, “The Emerging Church.” Now, I had been hearing this buzzword for several years in my favorite magazine “Christianity Today.” I wasn’t sure what the movement really was, and most of the press I had read on it was rather mixed. Buying the book, it was my hope to see just what “all the fuss was about” and hopefully confirm my preconceived negative judgments about the “emerging church.”

In the beginning, I was a wary skeptic. Just what kind of artsy-liberal-based movement was I getting myself into? Surprisingly enough, the more I read, the more I discovered I was not alone in my uneasiness or complaints about what “church” had become for me. This was actually a movement I could identify with. It’s such a relief to put a name to my heart’s desire for a more authentic relationship with God. Chapter by chapter, I was stunned at how accurate Kimball was discussing my problem with the “modern church” and how people involved in the emerging church are attempting to address our unmet needs. Reading this book encouraged me to think about “church” in a very different way. It validated my disappointments with the church, while simultaneously inspiring me to hope and believe I could make positive changes.

• Changes in how I can experience God.
• Changes in how I love my Christian family.
• Changes in how I perceive the relationships I can have with non-believers.

In the beginning stages of my quest, I needed to answer the question:

Was “church” not worth attending?

No, that’s a bad conclusion! Church is still “worth” attending. But, for awhile there, I was unfortunately debating this option. I know – it’s unbiblical, not to mention disobedient. All the verses that I used to quote to other people about “forsaking the assembly” came back to haunt me during this period. And yet, I just couldn’t bear to see some of the churches I have attended transform themselves into psuedo-business ventures. I get enough of “business-as-usual” during my job! Anything that smacked of corporate-attitude or peppy-commercialism literally drove me nuts! I just kept thinking, “Church isn’t supposed to be like this.”

That was just the point: Church in its modern-day evangelical vernacular usage is simply defined as a place. I don’t think it has meant “Christians in relationship” for quite a long while. Since it has become a place – the focus has shifted drastically. I am not alone when I argue that the top-heavy, bureaucratic structure we call “church” has  become offensive to some. (I’m not talking about every single church – but, you probably get the point!) I believe the cultural tides are swiftly pulling in a much more radical direction. Pre-programmed “Sunday-events” and stress-induced perfectionism are sucking the life and meaning out of church.

You know, it really doesn’t have to be all about pleasing the audience with the latest technologies, newest Bible-study fads or any number of things the “modern” church has become quite adept at delivering, in this hurried rush to feed convince church spectators that we all need to be “wowed” and “entertained.”

Please don’t get me wrong – different modes of worship are more effective with some people. Yet, I am firmly convinced that this “modern” mode the church finds itself in (complete with mega-church campuses, massive over-programming and business models the way in which things get done) is NOT going to convince people in the emerging generation. We’re seeking something much more reminiscent of the early church’s practices. Hard-line denominational do’s and don’ts are less important when compared to authentic discipleship practices and modeling.

In the end, some of us don’t want to be entertained anymore. Instead we want to encounter God in a myriad of ways, which speak to our individually-designed-God-created personalities. And it’s something still be worked out and discovered as Christians open themselves up to the moving of the Holy Spirit in this specific time and this specific place. 

Melissa Hedden is a special education middle school teacher who is experiencing the stay-at-home-mom side of life with her son two month old son Ryan. She lives with her husband, Shawn, in Hanford, CA. She is also an almost-confirmed Anglican!