Wanted: more church invaders

A few years ago, our family of six left a congregation full of parents with young children, and joined a church made up mostly of university students.1 This wasn’t an ideological statement on our part: it was simply because my husband works in university ministry, and that’s where we needed to be at the time. But it’s made me aware of some of the benefits and costs of going to church with people from a different age and stage from your own.

It’s easy to spend your entire life going to church with people just like you. Many of us start out in our parent’s church: a place, perhaps, with lots of other kids and teenagers. We graduate to a university church (that’s what my husband and I did), to a worker’s service, to a family service (ditto), to a congregation full of empty-nesters and, finally, retirees. It’s not so simple for those who are single, childless, or divorced; but that’s how it works a lot of the time. Even churches with mixed-age congregations find they tend to become homogeneous: for example, families with young children often attend church in the morning, while young adults go in the evening.2

Then there are the ‘church invaders’, people who make a deliberate decision to go to church with people who aren’t like them. I’ve met some of them: an energetic lady in her 60s who goes along to the youth service so she can show an interest in young people. A woman in her early 20s who attends a church where she’s the only person under 40, because she believes older and younger Christians need each other. A childless woman great at relating to kids, who gives her time to reaching out to children and their parents. A couple with older children who feel a little out of place in a congregation full of younger families, but who go to provide encouragement, support and wisdom.

So what is it like, crossing the frontiers? I won’t deny that I found it hard at first, going to a university church. I worried about my children growing up without lots of Christian kids their own age. I worried that no-one would want to talk to me - after all, what 20-year-old wants to hang out with a 40-something woman surrounded by noisy children? My instinct was to retreat to the back of the church, serve supper, feed my kids, and talk to the few women my age: to leave the boundaries between age groups uncrossed and unchallenged.

I’d love to claim some great godliness that helped me overcome this self-absorption, but I can’t. What happened was that, one memorable morning, I prayed about my attitude to church, and God’s Spirit convicted me that I was acting like a spoiled child: self-centred, self-conscious, self-pitying. Too wrapped up in myself to love those around me. Too concerned about what people thought of me to be concerned about them. Too obsessed with my own needs to consider the needs of others. I wept, repented, and asked for God’s help to start again.

In God’s very good timing – how often he brings us to the end of ourselves before he brings about a change in our circumstances! – the women in our church got together the following week. Older, younger, student, graduate, mother, teenager: we laughed and ate and swapped our stories. We met again, and talked about how we could better encourage each other. We met again, read Titus 2:3-5, and saw how God wants older and younger women to be involved in each other’s lives. Soon, I’ll start meeting regularly with two younger women to read the Bible and pray. It’s no coincidence that, at the very point I stopped worrying about whether I belonged, I felt a sense of belonging.

I’m beginning to see how important it is that I’m here, right now, in this church, being encouraged by and encouraging these particular women. In a few years time, when they get married and have kids, or wonder if they’ll stay single, or start out in work and ministry, I hope I’ll be beside them, helping them find the way into mature Christian womanhood. I look back to when I was a student going to a university church, and I’m deeply grateful to the older single people, couples and families who came along, modelled the Christian life for us, and taught and trained us in godliness. There’s a richness of encouragement that happens between Christians of different ages and stages that’s beautiful to see.

What about our kids? Is it fair to them, going to a church with only a few other children and teenagers?3 Our two younger boys are loved and cared for by a bunch of enthusiastic young people who enjoy having them around, and who are learning to lead as they teach them in Sunday School. Our older son enjoys hanging out with the godly young men who surround him. Our teenage daughter is excited about being mentored by a lovely young Christian woman. Our marriage and family are a lived-out, messy, week-by-week example for many who never experienced a Christian family growing up. In the end, it’s not the patterns of church that matter to us and our children: what matters is that the gospel is taught, and they are loved and prayed for by the members of our church family.

Not everyone is built to be a church invader. We know many Christians – single workers, couples with young children, retirees – who do their best ministry loving and serving people in a similar situation to their own. We’ve advised others, who find it hard to get to church at all, to go to a church that’s designed for their needs. But even if you don’t invade a church, do invade people’s lives. Be aware of the unseen boundaries that cross churches: old and young, married and single, privileged and disadvantaged, we’re all part of the body of Christ (Gal 3:28; Col 3:11). Think about who might feel in the minority, even if they hide it well. Invest time in younger Christians, and seek out the wisdom of older Christians. Invite people who are different from you into your life.

But perhaps you are built to be a church invader. Maybe you’re an older person who’s good at relating to young people, a member of a family who would like to reach out to single workers, or a young person who’s never seen a Christian marriage in action. If that’s the case, why not choose a church where you don’t naturally belong? Why not choose a church, not because it meets your needs, but because it needs you? Why not make a home for others in a place that feels far from home? Why not become a church invader? We’d love to have you along!


1. Actually, there were a couple of moves along the way, but I’m simplifying the story for the sake of clarity. ↩
2. I don’t want to comment on which approach to church is best: homogeneous or heterogeneous. I think there are benefits to both approaches. ↩
3. I’m often questioned about this. I was recently helped by an alternate point of view, offered by Kathy Keller in Why the city is a wonderful place to raise children. ↩


This post was first published at The Briefing today.

image is by The Arches from flickr

sharing Jesus with women from other cultures - hospitality

You may recall I once asked you a question (that Deb asked me) about sharing Jesus with women from other cultures. If you look at the comments, you'll find lots of very helpful suggestions about inviting women from other cultures into your home.

Well, Deb - and anyone else who's interested in offering hospitality to people from other cultures - you'll love these posts! They wrap up Nicole's series on hospitality at in tandem:

an interview with Rachael about Vanuatu
thoughts from Slovenia
thoughts from Chile

Enjoy!

what I'm reading: honesty and accountability from You Can Change

Here's some really helpful words from Tim Chester about honesty, accountability, and how to respond when someone tells you about their sin. Pure gold!

I need people who regularly ask me about my walk with God, who readily challenge my behaviour, and know about my temptations. I need my friend Samuel, who often asks: 'What's the question you don't want me to ask you?'

There are some sins that thrive on secrecy. They include sins of escape: things we do when we're feeling under pressure, such as sexual fantasies, pornography, compulsive eating and addictions. They include sins of the mind: things such as bitterness, envy, jealousy and complaining. We can become very adept at hiding them. But hiding them feeds them. You feel bad about yourself, so you eat compulsively. You eat compulsively, so you feel bad about yourself...The fear of exposure means you withdraw from the Christian community or learn to pretend. But withdrawal and pretence cut you off from the help of the community.

One thing we've learned in our church is that change takes place only when these sins come out into the open. It's difficult, but confession to another Christian will be a big step forward. You don't need to tell everyone! But do tell someone.

What should you do if someone confesses their sin to you? Speak the truth in love. Don't tell them their sin is understandable or insignificant. That offers no comfort because it's a lie. But we can speak words of comfort because we can speak words of grace. Call them to repent of their sin and accept by faith the forgiveness that God offers....Embody that forgiveness in your ongoing acceptance and love...Explore, if you can, the lies and desires that lead to their sinful behaviour...Be proactive about offering accountability. That means asking the question! Ask them how they're getting on; ask them whether they've sinned again. Be specific: ask when, where, why, how often. Above all, point them to the grace and glory of Christ.

Tim Chester You Can Change 175-6 my emphases.

image is from stock.xchng

how we change (12) supporting each other

I often think of change as a solo effort. I change by examining my heart and filling my mind with God's truth and growing my faith and practising my repentance.

But change isn't something I do on my own. Change happens in the community of God's people. It happens as we speak the truth in love to each other (Eph 4:15, 29). It happens as, together, we grow into a community which displays the likeness of Christ.

The church is a better place for change than a therapy group, a counsellor's office or a retreat centre.

Here are four things I've found help me change in community.

1. Be honest about your sin.

Sin thrives on secrecy. The most stubborn sins are the ones no-one sees: self-pitying thoughts; harsh words behind closed doors; things we do to escape. But sin isn't meant to be kept private. God says, "confess your sins to each other and pray for each other" (Jam 5:16).

When we hide our sin, we cut ourselves off from encouragement, accountability and prayer. It's a vicious cycle, because when we keep silent, others keep silent too. Everyone assumes everyone else has it together, and we feel defeated, isolated and ashamed. "You don't have to tell everyone. But tell someone."

I love honesty, but I've learned the hard way that it must be helpful. Only tell others about your sin when it's loving and won't lead them astray. “Tell everyone you struggle; tell some people what you’re struggling with.” Confession is better upwards or sideways than downwards: confess to a mature Christian, not a young Christian.

When I feel too embarrassed to tell anyone about my sin, I remember God's words: “No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to [wo]man" (1 Cor 10:13). In my experience, mature Christian women welcome honesty and are eager to help me fight sin. A little embarrassment is worth it if it helps me change!

2. Seek accountability.

I have two friends I can count on to ask me the hard questions. When we get together, we ask each other, "How's your prayer life going? Are you loving your husband sexually? What about that sin I know you struggle with?" We don't gossip, but we do talk honestly and encourage one another. We've agreed to SMS each other to pray during times of temptation.

If you struggle in a particular way, seek out a mature Christian, tell them the details of your sin, and ask for their advice and prayer. Give them permission to ask the hard questions - often! Organise to call or text them the moment you're tempted so they can pray for you.

3. Speak the truth and accept it from others.

How do you respond when someone tells you about their sin? Too often, I make light of it. "You think that's bad? You should have heard me the other day!" "Yeah, we all do that." "That sounds really hard!" We can be great at sympathy, but not so good at speaking the truth in love (Eph 4:15).

When someone tells me about their sin, it's important not to play it down. I find it helpful to talk about how God has helped me with a similar sin. When possible, I ask about when they struggle and what lies and desires drive their sin, work out some practical strategies, pray for them, and follow up on the conversation later - and always, always, give them God's grace.

And if someone rebukes me, I'm learning not to laugh or shrug it off, but to listen with a humble heart. Even if their criticism is wrong, there's probably some truth in it. I pray about it and, if they're right, repent.

4. Be part of an honest community.

Christians can be very good at pretending. It's easy to look around your church and think everyone else has it together. No wonder messed-up, broken people don't feel at home there! I love Chester's concept of church: a messy place full of broken people who are open about their struggles.

What if my church isn't like this? I can't change anyone else, but I can change me! Maybe after the service when someone asks how I am, I can talk about my struggle with impatience. Maybe during my next small group I can confess the discontent I've been battling. Maybe I can phone someone and ask them to pray for me when I'm tempted to impurity. If I'm more open, it will help others to be more open too.

Have you got any other ideas? How does the community of God's people help us to change? Have you told a mature Christian about the sin you're struggling with? What's one step you could take to seek help from other Christians as you battle sin?

Quotes and ideas are from chapter 8 of Tim Chester's You Can Change; final quote is from Chester Captured by a Better Vision 120.

images are from stock.xchng and from ShaZ Ni, rocket ship, lanuiop and Andrew Kirkley at flickr

sisters for those with no sisters

I grew up with one brother and no sisters. I love my brother, and never longed for a sister - unlike my daughter, who loves her three brothers, but has always wanted a twin sister! But I've always wondered what it would be like to have a sister.

I know now. You see, I have many sisters, and they are as dear to me as any sister of blood could be. God is good, and "sets the lonely in families" (Ps 68:6) - not just blood-families, but church families. I look around my church, and I see sisters, brothers, mothers (Mk 3:35, Rom 12:10, 1 Tim 5:1-2, Heb 2:11). God gives fathers to the fatherless, mothers to the motherless, and brothers and sisters to those with no brothers or sisters.

As I've grown to love my sisters in Christ, I've learned that loving begets love. Just like a blood-family, you don't choose your church family. You might choose your church, but you don't choose the mix of personalities in it. A church is not a friendship group, built on mutual liking. A church is a family, and it's only as you love and serve that you come to love the people in it.

Loving begets love. When I don't invest much in others I feel little for them. But when I care for others I grow in love for them. When I teach Sunday School, I become fond even of the kids who are hardest to love. When I encourage the women in my small group, even on mornings when I'd rather stay home and rest, we grow closer together in God.

I have all kinds of sisters now. There's my little sister who is light where I am dark: extrovert to my introvert, she excels in hospitality and has the warmest welcome I've ever seen. There's my big sister who gives me wise advice when I'm confused about which path to take. There's my strong-minded sister who teaches me courage, my generous sister who motivates me to serve, and my struggling sister who inspires me to faithful perseverance.

The other day two of my sisters and I cried together about a mutual sorrow. As we sat side-by-side, disembowelling a box of tissues and comforting each other with prayer and a cup of tea, I realised how precious my sisters have become to me, and I thanked God. I pray for my daughter that one day she will look around and rejoice that although she has three brothers and no sisters, she has many sisters in Christ.

This post appeared on Monday on Sola Panel.

images are from discoodoni and sisidahl at flickr

growing up in the Christian community

One of the great blessings of being part of a Christian community is watching your children grow up surrounded by people who love Jesus. We went to a conference for Christian uni students the week before our Bright holiday (I'm still catching up on my posts, as you can see!).

Ben spent his whole time on the shoulders of the (very patient) young men at the conference, having a fantastic time and learning how to be a Christian man. Here he is with Ollie.

Being a man, apparently, includes watersliding into a freezing cold lake in the middle of a Melbourne winter (believe me, it was COLD!).



Being a man also means learning how to dance.

Ben also got to meet our prime minister, Kevin Rudd.

Well, maybe not. But he did learn heaps about being a Christian man. How grateful I am that he is growing up with such fantastic role models!