Wednesday, August 28, 2013

College Church



This Sunday, I visited College Church, in Wheaton. The facilities themselves are a beautiful red brick in a classic look for a church. As the service started, there were still a dozen people on the steps of the church finishing their conversations (apparently this is a common thing in this congregation).
When I went into the sanctuary an usher whisked me to the front and squeezed me into a pew. The sanctuary is nearly standing room only, so this is one of the few places I have been where the ushers do more than hand out bulletins. However, no more than thirty seconds later, a Wheaton student who had met me the previous day was at my side bringing me to sit with the “Exegetes.” I am not sure whether this is a statement on the quality of students at Wheaton, or if it is a statement on the quality of member at College Church; nonetheless, whichever group it reflects on, it made me feel very welcome and like I was already at home with a group of friends.
The worship service has a high church feel to it, complete with communal reading of Scripture, recited prayers, and employing an organ. The church only sings hymns, which is an interesting choice since a large portion of the congregation is comprised of college students. Another facet of the music that is unusual is that they have no worship leader. The organist will play the opening line to a song, then will hold the last note to signal that it is time to start singing.
Though the church is rather large, they prayed by name for members who were sick or undergoing other serious troubles. The prayer time lasts for several minutes as the minister worked his way through the list.
As a side note, I noticed that there were quite a number of younger people who would make noise at inappropriate times in the service, but that no one in the congregation seemed bothered. I learned that the church had a vibrant disabilities ministry, and they are very welcoming of people who have disabilities, or families who have children with disabilities. In fact, the church has a staffer whose entire area of responsibility is this ministry.
This was Dr. Josh Moody’s first day back in the pulpit, as he had apparently been traveling over the summer. The sermon was very thorough, and focused more on the context of the passage than perhaps any sermon I have heard. It was obvious that the congregation was well educated in biblical studies. For instance, this was one of the few (at best) times I have heard a pastor use Greek in order to minimize its importance (“Now, regardless of how you understand the kat’ oikon, this still means…”) rather than use it to strengthen his point. That is, rather than assuming that his audience was unaware of the Greek text, he was assuming that they were aware of it, and was thus answering a potential exegetical difficulty arising from the text. As another example, his sermon illustration came from seventeenth century puritanism. However, given his personal education (PhD, Cambridge) and the demographics of the church, this highly intellectual approach made perfect sense.
Reflecting its non-denominational roots, there was no altar call, only another song followed by everyone standing and leaving while the organist played a postlude.
While many people would not be impressed with the high church style and intellectual nature of this church, I felt as though I had arrived at home.

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

A Tale of Two Communities



Last night, an elderly gentleman fell down outside of my apartment complex. I spent about ten minutes trying to help him up, but he was two to three times my weight and the physics were not in my favor. Every time I would get his weight off the ground, my feet would start sliding towards him, and he was not strong enough to provide any help. So, I explained that I had only been here for one week and did not know anyone at the complex yet, and asked him if he knew anyone I could call to come help. “I have been here for seven years, but no, I don’t know anyone.”
After a moment of shock, I went into my apartment to call a fellow Wheaton student I had met the day before. Within five minutes, this near stranger had dropped everything and was on his way to help me on behalf of a complete stranger.
The whole episode reminded me of why believers are supposed to live in community (both within our Christian community and within our broader community): there are things in life that are too big for one person to handle, whether that is learning to seek Christ better, or finding accountability with a sin you are struggling with, or lifting someone off the ground who is many times your size. We need other people. And most people recognize this need, though many do not know how to fulfill it (for instance, this man undoubtedly recognized the need for a community, except his community was himself).
In the church today, community is something that is hard to attain, and is often defined as thirty seconds of awkward conversation with the person next to you while the worship band keeps playing. However, Paul dedicates much of his time to explaining how the community should work together (Gal. 6, much of Eph., etc.). In Acts 2, as soon as people came to follow Christ, they immediately entered into true community (sharing meals, in that context). When community truly exists, it is an extremely attractive thing. For instance, though I had not had time to integrate into my broader context, I had fellow believers who I could already lean on, even though I had only spent a whopping one hour with them over lunch.
How is your community? Are you participating in both your secular community and your Christian community? Or are you preferring to live as a community of one?