“Here is the church  

here is the steeple 

open the doors 

and see all the people!”

The first time I heard that rockin’ nursery rhyme, it totally made sense to me: church was a place, with a steeple, and doors. Check! We went to that place (on Christmas Eve, and occasionally on Easter Sunday), and when we did, there were other people there, too. Check! 

A pretty place… and candy…

But even as a little girl with limited exposure to church, I felt that the nursery rhyme left out important aspects of church’s specialness. Church, in my mind, was a quintessentially pretty place – and not just because of the steeple. Church was a place for new dresses, and big, heart-swelling music. Church was a place with windows out of which one could not see but in which one could trace strange, fascinating stories illustrated in rich hues. Church was a place with spicy smells (my little sister once voiced concern that the usher’s fragrant purse was on fire). Church was a place with flickering candlelight. Church was consistently a prelude to candy (in my stocking or in my Easter basket). Clearly, that nursery rhyme left out all the good stuff.

As a young adult, I built on early associations of church as a place I liked by occasionally seeking out beautiful buildings on Sunday mornings. Dwight Chapel on Old Campus at Yale, L’Eglise St. Augustin in Paris, the Church of St Mary the Virgin in Cow Hollow in San Francisco, Queen’s College Chapel, Cambridge – such places made it easy for me to persist in the pleasant misunderstanding of “church” as a location. The magic of music, candles, and story-windows stayed powerful enough to keep me circling around the idea of church, that place I liked, with the steeple. I didn’t know Jesus, but I thought I knew – and liked – church.

(Interesting, now, to consider how many aspects of my pre-Christian church emphases worm their way into the routines of worship for those who are old enough and biblically literate enough to know better. Mistaking pretty for purposeful is not something we automatically outgrow, is it? Too many of us grown-up Christians retain childish fetishes about clothes, stained glass, and content-as-candy, sweet and substance-less. But I digress.)

Even in more recent years, as a pastor’s wife, I’ve often operated as if “church” was a geographic designation: our current appointment, the place where Mark worked and we went to worship, the street address I gave to potential visitors. “Here is the church / here is the steeple / open the doors…”

Away from Church

For almost a year now, I have not been to church, the building. The pandemic + some autoimmune challenges + a compulsive hugging-habit = time to stay away from corporate worship, from church. 

A dear friend of mine told me yesterday that her church had been so damaged by Winter Storm Uri that repairs would keep the congregation displaced for at least nine months. Burst pipes + collapsed asbestos ceilings + fritzed electrical system = time to stay away from corporate worship, from church. 

My question today is, do these circumstances make me and / or my friend “church-less”? 

Are we women “without a church home” simply because we cannot get inside the buildings we call our “churches”?

Based on the nursery rhyme church – even based on my little girl pretty-place-church definition – the answer to that question is a tragic “yes.” Without the architectural premises, without the shared pews and roof, how can there be “church”?

But the opposite response to those questions – “of course not!” – is fueled by the logic of scripture. Scripture knows nothing of “church” as a place. Nothing! Scripture knows nothing of steeples, or of set-apart buildings designated for Christian worship. In fact, for the nursery rhyme to line up with what scripture says about “church,” it would begin and end with the last line: “See all the people!”

Church, according to scripture 

According to scripture, “church” is the Body of Christ. (Romans 12:4 – 5) The citizenship of saints. (Ephesians 2:19 – 22) The global family of believers. (John 17:10) According to scripture, being a member of a church means – literally – being a part of Jesus’s Body, organically connected to other members and dependent on them for full function. (1 Corinthians 12) Scripture goes so far as to describe the collective spiritual gifts of church members as members of Christ’s body the way the fingers I am using to type this are members of MY body. Church buildings are temporary and fragile, but church as the Body of Christ is eternally powerful, holy, true.

The nutshell version is that according to scripture, “church” means relational connection among people under the authority of God, now and forever. According to scripture, church has nothing to do with bricks and mortar (or even stained glass).

The truth of this conception of church has recently been made obvious to me through my husband. Throughout this last year, Mark has never stopped going to church, the building. In the early phases of the pandemic, when the rest of the staff worked from home, he worked from the empty office. As soon as it was legal, he re-opened corporate worship in a Covid-safe format. He has taught his men’s group (initially outside, then socially distanced in the gathering area) early every Friday morning, all year. 

But Mark would say that his heart is aching for church… that he misses church every day… that the lack of church is a constant presence. Why? Because church is people. Church is meeting visitors in their homes to hear their stories and welcome them into membership. Church is visiting the elderly, bringing them communion, praying with them. Church is being in hospitals, praying before surgeries, waiting with fearful family members. Church is standing vigil at death beds and comforting grieving folks through the rituals of funeral and burial. Church is going into prisons with Kairos ministry and welcoming orphans with His Little Feet ministry. Church is people. 

Mark has had uninterrupted access to church, the building, this whole time – but Mark’s ability to serve people according to his calling has been drastically abridged. Mark makes full use of church, the building, even as Mark yearns for the return of church, the people. And the longing of Mark’s heart reflects the truth of scripture’s definition of church: as Christ’s body, church is membership within a spiritual unity so powerful that it compels physical togetherness.

The Church, in the meantime

In this season when so many of us are separated from our church buildings, there is opportunity to embrace the scriptural truth of church more passionately than ever. Will I be grateful to get back to church, the building, once it’s safe for me to do so? You betcha. Will my friend celebrate when her church building is ready to shelter corporate worship once more? Ditto. But, in the meantime, we are still the church. We are still members of Christ’s Body, and members of one another, connected by the Holy Spirit for worship and fruitfulness and joy. As such, we must persist in serving, praying, and supporting one another – even now. “This brief, momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure…” (2 Corinthians 4:17) And nothing – not a pandemic, not a winter storm, not Hell itself – can prevail against the church of Christ.