I am not a fan of worship where there is little sense of it being something that you are doing with your neighbor. I used to get annoyed at Fuller after they moved our weekly chapel services to an auditorium because we would all be gathered, talking, etc. and when it was time to start they would bring down all the lights so you literally no longer saw who was around you and all the focus was on the lit stage. It felt like we were called to move into something very individual, something very stage-driven, rather than embrace that we were engaging what is to be “the work of the people” (liturgy).

I have been in loud congregations before as well, so loud that mothers worried about having their infants present! However, I have to say that worship there always felt quite corporate, for other reasons.

Doug and I both share a pet peeve in how scripture is used in worship services today. People seem to not tolerate very long readings (at least in non-liturgical churches), and it is so common that the only scripture people hear is the text that is being preached. The public reading of the Word should be so much more central, I feel. I can remember Miroslav Volf (a former prof. at Fuller) once telling us that he often found himself sitting through some “relevant” sermon wishing that the preacher would just put down their notes and simply read from the Word of God. He felt like that would actually have a greater impact.

Our services include a variation of the following each week: invocation (Doug will give a reflection, share scripture, give some teaching on worship, etc.), corporate singing (and dancing sometimes), giving of tithes and offerings, testimonies, prayer, the reading of scripture (in English and Spanish), a time to talk and fellowship with those around you, communion, special songs and dances, announcements/discussion about community issues (community development/community organizing), welcoming visitors and friends, benediction, etc. Oh, and meals together following worship.

As I think about the things I am hearing, it seems like context is a biggie. The beauty of Christ’s church is it’s great diversity in the midst of the unity of Jesus’ presence and mission which we are all called to share. I completely believe in micro-churches, house-churches, and the like, and am drawn to the ways they both likely mirror how the earlier followers of Jesus shared life together as well as the ways they provide a critique to the Sunday-driven, big show worship that so many have become disillusioned with.

When I participated in a house church in Chicago, it never occurred to me that there was any need of a larger group gathering, because when we gathered, all of us who constituted our church were present. I think where I am seeing and feeling the difference in my context today is that, for those individuals who have committed themselves to being a part of our body, there seems to me to be something good and needful in coming to the weekly “family dinner” so to speak. And while they may be praying and confessing and serving throughout the week in smaller groups (and they should be!), there is something necessary about all of us coming together to testify, to listen, to offer praise and petition as the body that we say we are.

Also, we are not a large church, so participating in what happens on Sunday is not really something that can be done very anonymously. I think Jeff makes such an excellent point when he describes the ways that worshipers in a larger gathering fail to do exactly what I claim here is so important. I have certainly seen that to be true. Again, context here makes a difference.

One is the idea that “church” is about human relationship and that therefore “church” forms must follow the structures of those relationship. This will follow the trend of small groups and “non-institutional” churches to the logical end of the disintegration of large assemblies and the emergence of micro-churches.

The other is a return to the sacramental/liturgical model of the church assembly where we are compelled to gather - not to offer something or to “join in community”, but to receive something - a blessing, the eucharist, confession, etc. - that only the assembly can bestow. Thus, we come to church to get something we can’t get anywhere else.

I appreciate the idea of this post, but I have to disagree with one of your fundamental points.

I think (if I understood you correctly) that you are saying the Sunday “large group” assembly is, at least in part and perhaps especially, important because, “I am required to participate in things that are not about my preference and my choice, and I am asked to join with all who are gathered in what becomes our shared experience of life with God”.

But if I unpack that statement a bit, I think what you are suggesting is that by being compelled to be in community with people different from me - and perhaps people I would not otherwise be in community with, I am furthered in my walk of discipleship and transformation.

If that is what you are saying, let me say this: I completely agree with that statement and position.

But let me disagree with you on the application of that statement as applied in the context of the typical Sunday “large assembly”.

I would argue that the same kind of segregation, selective fellowship and cliques exist unadulterated in Sunday worship as they do anywhere else. In fact, perhaps moreso.

I would argue that while the idea of being a part of a diverse community - and learning to live in community with people I wouldn’t “choose”, is central to the idea of kingdom living, it has almost nothing to do with our large church assemblies.

In most cases and as borne out by the behavioral and empirical evidence, large church assemblies by an overwhelming majority do not compel people to be in community and often work against such relationship-building. When I assemble with a group of hundreds of people, I do not and am not compelled to live in community - even for an hour on Sunday morning - with folks I don’t “prefer”. Quite the opposite, I sit with, attend class with, and worship with my selected friends.

So while I agree with the principle - whole-heartedely and enthusiastically - I believe you are stretching the application to apply it to the typical church assembly. Folks just aren’t compelled to enter community during those times - because community exists in those mundane times of eating, working and living together and cannot be compelled or prescribed on folks during a 45 minute worship service - no matter how enthusiastic or uplifting it might be.

In other words, Sunday services don’t create community, they reflect it. If we enter our services as fragmented, segregated, mutually-judgmental “micro-communities”, there is nothing that happens in the service to change that. In fact, nothing can. Such a change must happen within the context of community - and outside our public assemblies.

Can you tell me a little about the service at your church?

I linked here from Bill Kinnon’s site. Interesting discussion, though (like Jim) I gently and lovingly disagree. I really do appreciate your tone, however - it is graceful and thoughtful in a way I have not much experienced from those who defend Sunday gatherings.

I think in a lot of ways you’re right, about not neglecting corporate worship, and ALSO not simply hanging out with the demographic that’s “just like us.” In my own experience however, most of the churches I’ve been a part of (and there have been many, across a wide range of doctrinal and geographical locations) are very much “one demographic” - white, middle class, certain level of education, and pretty much in total agreement about the doctrinal positions of whatever church they’re a part of. Now, I’ve never been a part of a parish-mindset church, and perhaps that makes all the difference as far as demographic goes…

On the other hand, I am NOT a part of a Sunday gathering, yet I don’t feel that I am neglecting corporate worship (it just looks different), nor do I feel that my demographic is “just like me” - in fact, it has broadened quite a bit since I left Sunday expressions of church. God keeps bringing these people into my life to love that I have found annoyingly different from me. I have even tried avoiding them. But slowly God has made them some of my closest friends, despite the fact that we hold many, many differences. Now that I am outside one limited expression of church, I have friends of many races, many doctrinal persuasions, many income levels - our relationships, our “churching” together, isn’t based on our similarities or likemindedness but rather on Christ.

It may be rare, but it can happen.

Blessings to you!
Heidi