How Do You Describe a Church?

John 1:43-51
How Do You Describe a Church?
James McTyre
Lake Hills Presbyterian Church
January 15, 2006

How do you describe a church?

Today we're reading about the calling of the disciples in the Gospel According to John. And let me stress the “According to” part of that name. All the gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – tell “the gospel” -- the good news of Jesus Christ. But just as you might hear a story and catch one part of the details, and I might hear a story and catch another part of the details, gospel-writer John catches the details we read today. And John's details are a little different than the other gospels-according-to.

Jesus' cousin is John the Baptist – not John the Gospel-writer. Different John. Last Sunday, we read about how John (the Baptist) baptized Jesus in the River Jordan, and the skies ripped open and the dove descended, and the voice of God said, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” We pick up this week reading how John the Baptist is still down by the river, baptizing and preaching to his followers, when Jesus goes innocently walking by. John points Jesus out to the crowds, somewhat abruptly, hollering, “Here is the Lamb of God!” So much for Jesus' quiet afternoon stroll. Two of John's followers break away and start following Jesus, and he says to them, innocently or abruptly – it's hard to tell -- “What do you want?” And they say, “Where do you live?” And Jesus says to them, “Come and see.” When Philip, another disciple of Jesus runs into Nathaniel, and Nathaniel says, “Jesus of Nazareth? Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip says, just as Jesus did, “Come and see.”

I point this out because “Come and see,” is a very different way of calling people to Jesus than we're used to hearing from the Bible. In the gospel according to Matthew and according to Mark (which we'll read next Sunday), Jesus is walking along the shore – that much they agree with John on – but according to them, Jesus just marches up to the fishermen and says, “Follow me.” “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” And boom – end of story – they drop their nets and leave their father in the boat with a whole net full of fish to clean.

Now, there's no way to know if one gospel writer got the facts straighter than another. And there's also no sense in arguing over whether one method of calling disciples is better than another -- “Follow me,” or “Come and see.” But putting these two methods of calling disciples side by side is instructive for people like you and me who are trying in our own day to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ. How do you tell people about your church? DO you tell people about your church? What's the right way to go about spreading the good news without offending somebody? Or, should your faith be offensive? Today's scripture tells us how Jesus and the first disciples spread their faith; how do you spread yours?

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How do you describe a church? How do you make people want to get involved?

Times have changed. Garrison Keillor tells about how people used to “just know,” first, if they were church people, and then, “just know” what kind of church people they were. He says it was the same way their families knew if they were “Ford people” or “Chevrolet people.” You were “Lutheran,” or you were “Presbyterian,” as if God had hard-coded it into your DNA. You “just knew.”

But these days, everybody's different. You say, “I'm a Presbyterian,” and people say, “So?” Name recognition doesn't get the mileage it used to. So instead of describing the make and model of the church, you have to describe the accessories. Do you have stackable chairs, or do you have pews? Do your pews have padded seats and cup holders? (Yes, we do. On both counts.) Do you have hymnbooks, or do you project the words on a screen? Do you have an organist, or a rock band, or recorded music, or an orchestra? Do you have a Youth Leader with body piercings? (Yes, we do. Cheryl has two piercings. One in each ear.) Does your minister wear a robe and stand behind the pulpit, or does he (or she) wear flip-flops and wander around while preaching? And wear a little headset mic, like Janet Jackson? (I do have one thing in common with Janet – my wardrobe is always a malfunction.) We laugh at the church “accessories” that make a difference to people when they're “shopping” for a church, but when the only major difference between our cars, our homes, our lifestyles, is how well we accessorize, it won't be long (and it hasn't been long) before churches act that way, too.

I'm glad that we were a “community” church long before being a “community” church was cool. Lake Hills Presbyterian Church has always been ahead of its time. If you look at church signs, or at church advertising (and I do -- occupational hazard), you'll see that nearly 99% of churches describe themselves as a “community,” or a “family,” or, “home”. Which is great, unless you're going to church to try to get out of your community, or away from your family, or away from home. No one ever advertises by saying, “Come to our church – it's just like work.”

It's HARD to describe a church to someone. And that shouldn't surprise us, because not even the gospel writers could agree on how Jesus described, and called people into, his ministry. Churches are places where people try to do the impossible job of being the body of Christ. And so by their very nature, churches are going to be square pegs and round holes. Church is supposed to be comforting... yet challenging. Church is supposed to be calming... yet uplifting. Church is a place where people will take care of you... but also a place that sends you out to take care of others. Church should be peaceful and meditative... but have the sounds of children in the hallways. Church is supposed to make you feel good. And make you feel bad. About feeling good. When you're being bad. Church... is complicated. Which, again, shouldn't surprise us, because Jesus is complex. The one who says, “Follow me,” doesn't tell his disciples exactly where he's going. And when they ask him, “Where do you live? What's your house like?” His only response is, “Come and see.” (“It's a little hard to describe my house. You'll just have to... come and see.”)

Not long ago, I was in a seminar with a minister who was agonizing over how all the other churches around them had a catchy motto, or a memorable mission statement – and her church didn't. They couldn't quickly describe what the church was about. “We're just a small church,” she said, “with only about a hundred members. We don't have a Family Life Center. All we have is a bunch of dedicated members. And a school that we built. And a warehouse in back for Second Harvest food distribution. And mission trips. And a great choir. And a youth group that's much bigger than most churches our size. And a day care. And an Alcoholics Anonymous group. And a Boy Scout troop.” And all of us in the seminar are just sitting there with our mouths hanging open. Because she's worried that her church doesn't have a motto??? How about, I don't know, “We do what Jesus says to”??? (“...and we don't have a Family Life Center.”)

I think the best compliment members can give their church is that they can't describe it in words that fit on a bumper sticker. I think one of the best signs of a church's health is that you can't tell people everything about it, without leaving something out, without searching your brain for the right word. Nathaniel asked Philip, and Andrew asked Jesus, “What ARE you all about?” And the answer was simple, but not simplistic. It couldn't be summed up in a catch-phrase or a memorable mission statement. The answer was that, if you want to know what Jesus Christ is about... if you want to know what a healthy church is all about... you're just going to have to “come and see.”

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If our churches are rightly complex, and our Savior is complex, it would follow, then, that our faith, our individual faith, would be hard to describe, too. Some of us feel guilty sometimes, because we haven't sat down and shared our faith with someone, that they might become disciples, too. And yet, we know how to speak the words of faith: “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” “I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.” “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” We might be nervous about sharing the words with strangers. Who wouldn't be? You don't walk up to a total stranger and say, “I'm a Chevrolet person, and here are fourteen reasons why.” It would be a very short conversation. And not because you didn't know fourteen good things about your car. And while the world is certainly sinful enough for evangelists like John the Baptist, shouting and telling people to repent for the end is near, saying, “Follow me... or else!” the world is also big enough, and faith in Jesus Christ is deep enough, for the quiet evangelists, like Philip, like even Jesus in this case, who share their faith by saying, simply, “Come and see.”

The Apostle Paul, whose letters come after the gospels in the Bible, but which chronologically were written long before – the Apostle Paul described the church as “the body of Christ.” Which sounds wonderful, if not also a little scary. Because the body of Christ – resurrected as it may be – is also a wounded body, and carries the scars of its own offense. But the body of Christ also has faith in more than itself. “Do you believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree, Nathaniel? You will see greater things than these,” Jesus said. Your faith may not be so great. Your church may not be so big. But both your faith and your church are greater than you know. Not because they're so great, themselves. But because they're based on God, based on God's great word, based on God's great love and hope and peace. And how do you describe love, and hope, and peace? You could expend a lot of words and a lot of breath, or if you're Presbyterian, a lot of paper. Or, you could just say, “Come and see.”