"Aw, Mom, do I hafto?"

Ever had someone tell you the reason they no longer go to church is because they were made to go as a kid? Take the guy whose Mom called up to his bedroom one Sunday morning: "Son, get up. It's time to get ready to go to church." From under the covers came his muffled reply: "You always made me go but now give me three reasons why I should go?" Came his mother's tart response: (1) "Because I'm your mother, and I said 'get up.'" (2) "Because you are a grown man." (3) "Because you are the preacher."

There are many for whom the very mention of the word church (in this case meaning the assembly), seems to send chills up the spine. A few days ago, while speaking at a funeral and on heaven in particular, I tried to encourage those gathered that heaven wouldn't be an all-day church service. I wish you could have seen the facial expressions...from my vantage point! Looks of surprise and relief seemed to reveal that for many "church" was not currently a preferable use of their time. Reckon any of them were made to go as children?

I know people, some very close to me, who offer the excuse mentioned above for not being involved in a local body of believers. And each time I hear it I wonder anew what went wrong? For you see, I want to go to church! Why? To connect with God in assembly, (Psa.111:1), expecting His Presence, (Mt. 18:20), and together with other fallible creatures look to be showered by His grace. And I expect to receive, almost unwittingly, blessing upon blessing from fellow travelers who from time to time share experiences from their past week's/life's faith journey.

Recently I became quite ill after going to bed on a Saturday evening and then was up most of the night..., no, I won't gross you out with personal details. Ugh, but it was bad! Next morning, as time for church neared, I realized that for the first time in a long, long time, I wouldn't be physically able to attend. As the old timers used to say, I would be "providentially hindered." Later in the morning, after my wife had joined her parents for worship, I dragged my sick body to the nearest convenience store. Gatorade was the only thing I imagined I could swallow to keep down, and I reasoned it would prevent dehydration. I saw lots of people on that brief jaunt, going about their affairs as on any other day. I wonder if any of them were now enjoying "freedom" from having been made to attend church as a kid? (I realize Sunday morning isn't the only time folk attend church these days).

Yes, for the most part "church" is a desirable, pleasant experience for me. And even though my little part requires considerable preparation, still I wouldn't trade derived blessings for any so-called "freedom" not to attend. (By the way, as a boy I was sometimes "made" to take a bath. But somehow I don't refuse a refreshing shower today because cleanliness was "forced" on me back then). Go figure!

I want my whole attitude about church to be like that of a man's talking centipede (100 legged bug). Having selectively chosen the critter at a pet store he took him home in a neat white box that doubled as his home. Our friend decided the best way to start his relationship with the centipede was by going to church. So, "Would you like to go to church with me today? We'll have a good time." No answer from within the white box. After a few minutes another try: "How about going to church with me and receive blessings?" Again, there was no answer from the new pet. For his third and determined to be final time, the man put his face against the little white box and shouted: "Hey, in there! Would you like to go to church with me and learn about God?"

Finally, an answer: "I heard you the first time! I'm putting on my shoes!"

By the way, at Christ Family...wing tips and heels aren’t required!

julian