The Search for Church

The search for a multi-ethnic, multi-generational church continues. I hesitate to say anything negative about the Church, capital "C," for fear of adding to the din of complaints from outsiders. But as a Christian in a new area, I'm a little confused and frustrated. And convicted. And not just by the sermon I heard today. I realize the Church is me. [sic]

Thus far, I've visited two churches, little "c," in Houston proper and probably won't make a second date with either one. During my interview back in June, my then-future co-worker made a point to tout Houston as the 4th most diverse American city. True, I've passed two masjids this week and ate dinner at an Iranian deli yesterday. I've already pre-set Hispanic radio in my car and plan to hit up Chinatown for bubble tea this afternoon. The proximity of these cultural pockets excites me, but that's just what they are, pockets. Compartmentalized cordoned-off blocks that jut up next to each other, but never mix. I'm learning there's a difference in observing diversity and actually participating in it. I'm worried I spend too much time observing.

Back to the sanctuary. Look around. Everyone looks like me. Mid-to-late-20s, thick, black prescription (or not) frames, plaid shirts or scarves topping off skinny, dark-wash Levi's and TOMS (or Van's, take your pick). The messages from the pulpit have been good, I can't deny! And I'm so grateful for truth taught. But I've been so distracted by the shininess around me that it's hard to digest anything of substance. I'm drowning in coolness. Should church be cool?

I think the cause of this uniformity is well-intentioned. We crave authentic community, and for some reason, 20-somethings seem to seek the "real experience" more than any other age bracket. We grew up in such a time of decadence (hello, 80s' Dallas & Dynasty) that our subculture is reactionary. Give me a salvaged, solid-wood countertop and craft beer out of a mason jar over a discussion about worldview. Hashtag, #Boom. #Real? #Maybe.

Here's the catch: community can't be authentic if it's insular. Why? Because people will be so preoccupied making sure they qualify that no real relationship will be exchanged. It's just a glorified youth group.

I want to go to church with parents, grandparents, widows, married couples with kids in kindergarten or kids in college, because they have wisdom I don't. I want to celebrate different forms of worship through varied traditional music because, God knows, Chris Tomlin isn't going to be the only headliner in heaven. I want to be introduced to facets of Christian theology that can only be highlighted in the context of multiculturalism. I want the homeless people we serve to sit with me in the same pew.

Because you know what's authentic? Bringing heaven to earth. And I hear heaven is full of a bunch of people who don't look like me.

But then I look at myself. Do I wear hipster glasses? Yes. When I actually attended a diverse church, did I engage other cultures past a warm, passing smile? No. How much do I seek out other ethnicities (or even socio-economic groups!) Monday through Saturday, making its congregational continuation on Sunday simply natural? Not much.

See, I am the Church. I am the problem. God, please save me.