Family

Sunday can be the best day of the week.  Sleeping a little later than normal, being lazy around the house, reading, cooking or tinkering with a little project.  But what really makes Sunday different is church.

Church is that guaranteed, once-a-week reminder that the Creator still exists and the Creator still wants to be engaged with me.  It’s a chance to reset and regroup before the week gets going. So on Sundays, I sing with gusto (I love to sing, not too sure how on key I am…), pay attention to the sermon (and even take notes), and chatter and meet and greet people as much as I can (not too much into the fellowship hall thing).

But still, there are days and weeks when sermon series don’t do much for me, when my mind wanders to things at work, where particular worship leaders choose songs that bore me, and seeing so-and-so can be painful or awkward.  Or any combination thereof in small or large measure.

In other words, going to church can sometimes be a big disappointment, and it can be full of the politics of daily living.  Some of my friends up and leave church when it gets a little mundane or something happens that makes them uncomfortable.  But for me, I look at church and see it as a microcosm of the rest of the world.  Not something to be escaped, but something to live in.

So even when going to church is a little tough, I remind myself that I did something about three years ago that completely changed my perspective and helped me a lot – I joined my church. It was a totally voluntary act. There were no strings attached, except…

I made a covenant, I signed a book, and my brothers and sisters in Christ formally welcomed me to the community.  I committed to be their brother.  To pray for them.  To be relied upon.  To be faithful.  To be my best and to grow away from my worst. To be human.  To be a disciple.  To give cheerfully.  To love.  To forgive.  To welcome.  And they did the same for me. Willingly.

When I go to church on Sunday, I go not only to worship God, but also to be among my brothers and my sisters, the people with whom I made a covenant to be their brother, with God as our Father.

It’s this sense of church that makes everything else seem moot: we’re a part of His family.