Dear Church Kid

Dear church kid,
This letter is to you. I've walked in your shoes; sat in your Sunday school classes; I've heard the cliche statements; I've been taught so many things and haven't seen them played out.

What I’m about to tell you may sound conflicting.

One of the most beautiful things Jesus brought into being was the church. As it was supposed to be. Sharing together. Being community. I’ve been the recipient more times that I can count of the “as each had need”, feeling and knowing the church would respond. It’s beauty. It’s family. It’s support. To carry burdens, to be known, to feel hope, to foster growth, to cover in prayer. That’s the church. But I’ve also seen broken people, break God’s heart, in the church, and even through the church. I also have seen churches preach the gospel, but not all the gospel. Forgetting to feed us the meat after we’ve left Sunday school. Sometimes there’s more to those stories that never got added in. I realize there’s personal responsibility too...

I can't even remember where I got the quote from, but it's been burning me up ever since: [paraphrase] "young people leave the church not because they want less, but because they actually want more." And this killed me inside. You've left because you wanted more and you didn't see it. You heard the Bible stories, read church accounts, yet didn't see anything like that happening at your church. You never felt like you could ask questions,  the 'why' questions, not out of rebellion, but because you wanted to know. You missed out on some really good answers, or maybe there wouldn't have been any good answers. Maybe you knew all the answers. But didn't actually know why that was important. Maybe you grew up and those answers didn't feel like enough. Possibly you, like myself, thought you had to have time with Jesus, which is important, but didn't know that time with Jesus can also happen anytime. Perhaps you were taught to fold your hands and close your eyes, but did you know that that isn't all that important?

Dear church kid, I'm sorry. I'M sorry. I'm sorry that I've contributed to so much that has driven you away. We each are the church. Collectively. If the church is to be judged, I am to be judged. Because I haven’t done my part. I’m sorry for the times I haven’t made you feel welcome, I’m sorry for the time I wasn’t spirit-lead. The times I didn’t ask if you needed prayer, or just started praying for you, because that’s what church does. For the times I didn’t keep checking in. The times when you left and  I didn’t ask how you were doing.  I’m sorry for not showing you how big our God is and how strong His Spirit moves. I forgot that we need Holy Spirit to show up just as much inside the church as outside. And the resulting power that comes when we are each filled with the Spirit and working as His conduits of truth, wisdom, authority...it should always start there. Always there.

We come to church to be TOGETHER. That’s why we come to church, to be the church. But too often, I’ve come for me. I haven’t looked too many others in the eyes and wanted to know their struggles. I haven’t come asking precious Jesus how He would want to minister through me that day. I think I ignore Holy Spirit promptings more often inside on Sunday mornings more than any other day. Tragedy. I really do think what you are searching for, in your want for more, is a body that is seeing the spirit move in His people. I think that’s all it takes for a church to be healthy; for you the church kid to be at home. I hope you find it, because I am praying for a desire, a receptive heart, for this internal longing of God to pour forth through us, in my church, in your church, in us as the church. This expectation of God to show up, however He wills, through us.

In this model of the church. You play an active role. I’m sorry you have been excluded. That there hasn’t always been a space for you. But that’s the exciting thing that I’m learning. I have a place. You have a place. Because, again, WE are the church. Church responsibilities were never meant to be delegated to a few individuals. As you grow up, especially if you’re single, in that awkward young adult age that feels like you’re searching for your place in all of life, let alone your place in church, maybe you’ve given up. Maybe even in your line of thought, just for a time, until you have a family, or some gifting to offer, or....

You ready? Here’s the thing. You can pray for someone just as well as anyone sitting in the pew two rows back from you. You can ask what God’s heart is for the person in front of you as well as the pastor can, maybe even better due to less things you need to attend to. You can encourage the mom struggling with rambunctious kids that is at her wits end because her husband had to work today. You can. I can. They can. You’re actually allowed to invite people over for lunch when they forget to.

I long for you, the church kid, to actually bring the change, the unfolding of the needless rules, because I think more than anything that you can see the potential the church really holds. The intense accumulation of gifts waiting to be utilized as we sit together. When the church formulated thousands of years ago, thousands were drawn in. Talk about an exploding culture shift. Today is no different. Or should be no different. I hope you give the church a second chance. I can’t promise it’ll be different. But I would bet you could be different. It takes a collective different to make a difference.

Yours truly, hannaH, a church kid holding out for more.