Dr. Robert Crilley

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Every once in a while, I will have someone try and persuade me that they feel more religious when they stay at home on Sunday mornings and watch a worship service on television than if they were to go through the hassle of coming to church. Or that they feel closer to God during twenty minutes of quiet meditation in the privacy of their own backyard than in a crowded sanctuary.

I have learned over the years not to argue with such sentiments, because, to be honest, it probably is easier to feel “religious” in such solitary, comfortable surroundings. However, I believe that there is a huge difference between feeling religious and being a Christian disciple!

John Wesley had it right, I think, when he observed that “there is no such thing as a solitary Christian.” The faith must be shared if it is to be kept. At its heart, Christianity is a social religion. The bottom line is that it dwindles when in isolation and only thrives through interaction with others.

The great heresy of our ruggedly individualistic, self-centered culture is the notion that religion is really a private affair—a secret contract between the believer and God. Nothing could be further from the truth. The Christian faith is not a home correspondence course in self-improvement. As John writes, “Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.”

Moreover, the person who objects to the organized church because it is filled with sinners and hypocrites makes the erroneous assumption that we, in the church, are embarrassed by our clientele. The church is no more embarrassed over our collection of sinners than a hospital is ashamed of its sick people. The sinners, hypocrites, and hurting people, who surrounded Jesus, did not make him the least bit uncomfortable. On the contrary, they were precisely the reason he came into the world in the first place.

To be a part of the church is not to suffer from delusions of sainthood (actually, I have met very few in the church with that alleged fantasy). Rather, it is to admit bravely and boldly that we have weaknesses and shortcomings, and that we wish to work on these weaknesses and shortcomings in the presence of others, instead of continuing to pretend that we can handle life all on our own.