WHOSE CHURCH?

“I will build My church.” – Jesus, Matthew 16:18

If you are a church member, it’s likely that you refer to the church to which you are committed as “my church,” or perhaps “our church.” It has a nice ring to it, and everybody understands what you typically mean. What you’re really saying is that your life and heart are deeply connected to that particular body of believers. You sense a relationship that goes beyond mere formal affiliation to include a sense of belonging: not that the church belongs to you, but that you belong to the church.

However, human nature, allowed to pursue its innately selfish predisposition, can sometimes twist the words “my church” or “our church” into an ugly, cruel thing.

In the first church I served as pastor, I had a graphic lesson in this.

When the “new” church building was built in 1963, there was substantial conflict involved in the planning and fund-raising. Two influential families began (or continued?) a kind of competition over who would raise more money and purchase more of the church’s facility. One family donated the property, and another agreed to pay for a bell tower. All the while several others steadfastly resisted the move from the “old” church building. In an apparent effort to placate these dissenters, it was agreed to use the old pews and altar furnishings in the new building. Even then, when the move was made to the new building, a few hold-outs resolutely refused to attend, asserting “That place isn’t our church.”

A few years later the family that donated the land was planning their daughter’s wedding, and decided that the old pews and furnishings just wouldn’t do. So, they bought new pews, altar table, pulpit, chancel chairs, the whole kit and kaboodle: $14,000 worth. I know that’s how much they spent, because they told me – several times.

Some folks thought it was a lovely gift. It was obvious to me that it wasn’t a gift at all. It was a leash, which they occasionally yanked to keep the church in line. It was therefore no surprise that a few years later one of the family told me in a private meeting, “Someday you’ll be gone, along with all the people you’ve brought in here, and I’ll go back to running this place like I always have.”

True story. Still makes me shiver, just remembering it.

Whose church was it? Well, it was supposed to be Christ’s church. And for a while it was. During that time attendance tripled and we baptized scores of souls. That growth only made sense, inasmuch as Jesus told us that He would, in fact, build His church. His church, but not ours.

What’s the bottom line? Simply this: if it’s “our church” rather than Christ’s church, it may not really be a church at all. We may call it a charitable club, or a humanitarian organization; but if it’s ours, we mustn’t call it a church. To be a church, it must belong to Jesus.