From The Editor: Church Journey ≠ Faith Journey
She grew up as a pastor’s kid, in church every Sunday as well as most nights for programs or while her father was working late. Hurried footfalls in hallowed halls accompanied by shouts of “Walk while you’re in church!” were the soundtrack of her young life, interspersed with the music of hymns and handbell choirs. This was home. This was comfort. Many nights she would lay on the floor in the sanctuary, gazing up at the stars through the small windows in the spire, knowing that this — the space she inhabited, inside and out — this was peace.
The years passed and she grew bigger and older, but not farther from that feeling of what home should be. When she left her family to strike out on her own, she knew what to look for. And for a while she found it. She found another special room that called to her heart during the week and breathed life into her soul on Sunday mornings. She found people there who welcomed her into their homes, sat with her in sorrow, and made her hot chocolate to warm her Texan hands and insides after a brisk walk in the cold Kentucky winter.
Even far away from home, she found that peace. Even though she was no longer a child, she felt just as fulfilled and committed and involved.
And then she met a boy. A silly, vulnerable boy who enjoyed playing the pompous know-it-all for the rest of the world but let his walls down for her. They puddle-jumped in the near-freezing cold. They sat outside watching storms draw near until the tornado sirens drove them indoors. They stayed up late talking about faith and family and heartbreak and friendship. And that friendship became even more beautiful as they realized God was whispering that they could choose each other. She could choose whomever she wanted, and God would bless that future. And she decided to choose him.
Choosing him meant merging their lives, and for the most part it was easy. Whenever a decision would arise, they would just choose each other, and the details would fall into place. Then the issue of where to worship arose. He had to stay with his church to keep his scholarships for school, so it seemed obvious that she would join him there. She tried. She really did. But this was the first church she walked into where she didn’t feel welcome. She felt like a stranger in the hallway. She felt like an intruder in the chapel. She felt alone, awkward, and unloved. It was wrong. She went home crying every Sunday, dreading having to go back the next week. For the first time in her life, there was no peace.
For a while she just stopped going. She stayed home and instead began to find that same sense of peace in deep conversations with friends over dinner. They delved into theology and philosophy over pasta with a side salad. Their community grew and deepened, and she stopped missing having that separate place of worship. Getting to sleep in on a Sunday morning became a beautiful blessing, and she barely remembered why she used to feel a need to go to church. God used this time away from church to bring her a deeper faith and true, lifelong friendships.
Since that time, church has had a different meaning for her. She used to go to church to spend time with God, to grow deeper in her walk with Jesus, and to feel at home. But truly growing up included growing past the idea that God was at church. Of course, God is at church, but He’s also at home. He’s with her as she drives, He’s with her at work. She can find peace and a sense of home anytime she spends time with Him, wherever that may be.
She grew and her faith deepened from this experience, but that isn’t the case for many young adults in this same situation. Studies show that nearly two-thirds of young adults stop attending church regularly for at least a year, and not all of them come back.
The scariest part of this story is the church that caused her to stop attending was a Salvation Army corps. A church that was created to welcome everyone should have been able to welcome a girl who had always loved church. But it didn’t. And that could have been detrimental to her faith and to the Church at large by losing a faithful daughter. She did end up coming back to the church, but it has never been the same for her as it was growing up. No church since then has ever felt like home for her, just a place for her to serve and worship, not a place of peace and community.
Church, we need to be better. We must be better, or we will continue to lose our young people. And not all of them will find their way back. And that is devastating.
This is my story, and it could have had a much worse ending. But God makes all things work together for good.
As we enter this season focusing on recruitment, we need to remember that doesn’t just mean finding new people to fill our pews, it means reaching out to the quiet couple that sits in the back of the sanctuary. It means making a connection with the young people running in the hallways. It means being the church to those around you and making your corps one that welcomes instead of alienates. Bring peace and create space for God to work in you and in everyone who walks through the doors of your church. Let’s create someone’s home.