As I wrote on Monday, the common definition of church membership as “a deeper commitment to a church” misses the mark. This definition totally leaves out shared values and purpose, and it treats membership as a decision rather than a natural step in a developing relationship. While the formal bureaucratic aspect of church membership may be a more modern invention, it’s based on a sense of belonging that has defined Christian community since the original Apostles. To give some grounding to what would otherwise be a very concept-heavy post, let me explain what’s been going on with me this past year:

This Sunday, I’ll be moving my membership from Deermeadows Baptist Church (where I was previously on staff) to Swaim United Methodist.

I had maintained my membership at Deermeadows as a sign of continued friendship, but as time has gone by, my calling has diverged from the mission and core values of that community. There are things about Deermeadows that I will always value: the commitment to refugees, the dedicated volunteers, the incredible mentors. But, while the pros outnumbered the cons, the cons were deeply significant:
The church’s location and schedule limited my interaction with homeless people.
Many church members held strict views on alcohol, so I couldn’t talk openly about bar chaplaincy without creating controversy.
And though we did everything to try and adjust my schedule, the administrative workload kept me at my desk, isolating me from the people I was trying to serve.
It was a great church, but it wasn’t great for me.
So I stepped down from my position there, and I launched The Bar Chaplain.

After I left Deermeadows, my friend Derrick invited me to Swaim. This smaller congregation reminded me instantly of my first church back in North Carolina. The architecture, the music, the prayers— it was all so familiar, but there were differences too. Swaim was more diverse; there were homeless people and many different age groups (including my own) worshiping under one roof. I was intrigued and continued to attend. As time went by, I learned more about Swaim’s ministries:
Every Wednesday evening, the church opens its doors to homeless people for food and conversation.
The pastor, Rev. Steve Painter, recently started a Sunday night fellowship at Aardwolf Brewing.
And the building’s unoccupied classrooms are leased rent-free to area non-profits.
Ministry in bars, time with homeless people, community collaborations— that’s at least half of the Bar Chaplain mission statement right there!

Despite telling Steve that I didn’t really believe in church membership, something was resonating with me: this church values the things that I value. Though my work with The Bar Chaplain means involvement in three other urban core congregations (Church Without Walls, The Well at Springfield, and StoryHouse), Steve invited me to treat Swaim as my home base and, when ready, to become a member. The offer was unexpectedly enticing to me. As I thought and prayed over why I suddenly gave a damn about church membership, I arrived at a different definition:

Membership is a formal affirmation
of the shared values and common purpose
that naturally lead to active involvement.

Every church has values that you won’t find written down anywhere.
They’re not in the mission statements, the creeds, or the “What We Believe” tab on the website.
You discover them by talking to people
and by listening for what they say or leave unsaid.
At Deermeadows, these values are things like family and tradition and excellence.
At Swaim, they’re things like presence and acceptance and risk-taking.
All of these are good, but the latter set are far more important to me.
Family, tradition, and excellence don’t ignite a fire in me
the way presence and acceptance and risk-taking do.
Most of the reasons that people cite for leaving a church
(the music, the preaching, too long of a drive, etc.)
become inconsequential if those shared values are there.
When you find those shared values, you’ve found your home church,
and membership isn’t a decision;
it’s a natural byproduct of that deepening relationship.

Of course, though Swaim is becoming my official church home, it’s not my only source of spiritual guidance, and it’s not the only community where I serve. I still have strong relationships with my previous places of service (especially Deermeadows), and I actively worship with three other churches. More on that tomorrow.