I’m sure this will come as a shock, but I’ve always been really into theology— not so much the jargon-laden systematic stuff, but seeing how God is active and involved in all sorts of ways in our world. As such, I once had a conversation with a pastor which completely took the wind out of my sails, and it stuck with me.

I couldn’t have been long out of high school when I met with him in his office. As far as I know, he’s still in ministry somewhere, so we’ll just call him “Pastor X.” As we talked, I shared my own story and my love of theology and my plans to enter ministry, and then he did something I hadn’t expected: he laughed. Pastor X must have seen my look of surprise, so he explained, “Almost no one comes to church because of theology. You know that, right? Hell, most of them don’t even come here because of God.” I was stunned and didn’t respond, so he started naming names: “The Smiths only come because their son’s Boy Scout troupe meets here. The Russells only come because they’re friends with the Fitzpatricks, and the Fitzpatricks only come because their daughters play soccer here. Larry Zukowski just wants to meet other single people. Sally Harker likes having wine with the women’s group and feels like she has to come to worship as part of the deal. The Herberts only come because their grandparents helped found this place, and it’s just a family tradition for them at this point. Jeff Scott just likes the music, and if the drums ever vanished, he would too. Ellen Jones is here because her daughter has friends in the youth group…” He kept going until he had called out at least a dozen individuals and families. (And, for the record, I’ve made sure not to use any real names from his congregation.)

Now, was Pastor X out of line?
Maybe. If those people had shared any of that information in confidence, then yeah, he would be out of line giving all that info to a kid like me.

Was Pastor X disgruntled and probably burned out?
Sure seems that way. In fact, he left that church not long after our conversation.

Did Pastor X have a point?
Yes. Yes, he did.
As abrupt and judgmental as his delivery might have been, his point was sound: people seldom go to a church for explicitly theological reasons. Traditional Sunday morning brick-and-mortar church tends to be much more about community, friendships, ritual, comfort, and a slew of other reasons that might not directly address God stuff. Now, maybe I’m pushing it, but I might still call all those other reasons religious or even spiritual. While none of those reasons explicitly name God, there’s some holy stuff in all the motivations Pastor X mentioned: community, creativity, physical activity, friendships— all that stuff is spiritual too, just not in a way that fit Pastor X’s views at that time. A part of me wants to restate Pastor X’s argument a little more charitably:

For most people, beliefs about God are not the most important factor in selecting a church.

I know very liberal people who attend very conservative churches, and I know very conservative people who attend very liberal churches. I know very intellectual people who attend very anti-intellectual churches, and I know very anti-intellectual people who attend very intellectual churches. I’ve seen Catholics, Methodists, and Pentecostals all attend the same Baptist church together. I know people of other faiths who attend Christian churches for the community. I know LGBT folks who have still found comfort in non-affirming churches. There are a lot of reasons people go to church which have little to do with stated beliefs, and that is okay.

But here’s the thing I wonder:
We’re two years into a pandemic which has shut down significant portions of life as we know it, and traditional church activities have been affected. For so many of the people Pastor X named off, the things which drew them to church have radically changed (if those things still exist at all). What does faith look like for the Fitzpatricks without their daughters’ soccer teams? What does faith look like for Jeff Scott if he can only hear the drums through his laptop headphones? What does faith look like for Sally Harker if she can’t have a glass of wine with friends? What will be the ripple effects of the changes we’ve been experiencing for the past two years?

I don’t know the answers to any of this of course, but lately, as I log on to Sunday morning worship, the thought crosses my mind. I haven’t darkened the door of a church building since March of 2020, but Jessi and I regularly attend church virtually. Lately, I wonder how many Larry Zukowskis and Ellen Joneses are doing the same, and I wonder how many have given up on church without those other activities which drew them in. I wonder too if that’s even a bad thing.

I think we’ve all known for a while that the ways we do church have to change.
If not now, when?