I sometimes worry that my posts and social media activity come off as “anti-church.” In fact, a colleague recently described me as such, so let’s go ahead and get one thing straight: I attend four churches that I deeply love, so “anti-church” is clearly an oversimplification.

I’m not anti-church,
but I do believe that church has its work cut out for it in the current cultural climate,
and there are some situations where I have to critique church
and try to critique myself in the process
and join in a dialogue about church,
so I’m not against all church.

That being said, I’m against some church.
I’m against church that doesn’t know what to do with itself.
I’m against church that turns people away,
letting doctrinaire dogma eclipse basic human decency.
I’m against church that settles for “the way we’ve always done it”
when “the way we’ve always done it” is really only 10 years old
instead of 2,000 years old.
I’m against church that espouses charity and love from the pulpit
when the budget sheets reveal different priorities.
I’m against church when the building sits empty six days a week,
and the only time the people see each other
is the obligatory Sunday morning.
But especially,
I’m against church that has gotten too comfortable,
and as a result, any strangers who enter
immediately feel uncomfortable.

But don’t mistake my disapproval for condemnation;
it actually comes from a place of deep hope for what church can be.

You see, The Church is a timeless institution established by Jesus,
and this thing we call “church”—
whether we interpret that word
as a steepled building up the street
or a gathering of likeminded believers
or whatever other image the word dredges up—
is a manmade facsimile and lesser member of The Church.
Our churches are a glimpse through foggy glass
of something so much bigger and more beautiful and wonderful
than we can imagine,
and as such, they offer a taste of the eternal,
but they will also inevitably fall short in doing so,
so perhaps a more accurate description of my beliefs would be this:

I love church when church looks like The Church.
But when church stops looking like The Church,
then I am against church.
When we stop welcoming,
when we stop loving,
when we stop giving,
when we stop fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves,
that’s when I become anti-church,
because at that point,
church doesn’t look nearly enough like The Church.
But here’s where the hope comes in.

I fervently believe that every church can look like The Church
if we will just open our hearts and follow the leadership of the Spirit,
if we will sacrifice comfort in the name of community,
if we will lay aside the pigeonholes of trendy and traditional
and just seek the truth instead,
if we will step beyond our own walls and look for the work
that God is already doing in this world.
That’s when our churches look most like The Church,
and in those moments, I could not be more pro-church.