Church is Happening All the Time

And "the church" just keeps on missing it

My sister and brother-in-law haven’t been consistent church members for a while now. Their disillusionment with the church began long before mine and in a way, our “disunity” with traditional church structures has often been a subject that's actually brought us far closer to unity with one other.

While they are no longer faithful Sunday morning attenders, for several years, they were faithful LifeGroup attenders. They remained committed and devoted to that community of their peers long after most of the group had become uncommitted to the very church that had brought them all together.

And in my last few years of loving and seeking the religiously lost, neglected, and shunned— I have come to find that their story isn’t all that rare.

Many church goers are often blessed enough to find safety and refuge with a group of chosen family amidst their larger congregations. And often, it is these smaller groups of committed and consistent disciples that end up feeling far more like “church” than the Sunday morning experience that first gathered them together. Many often stay devoted to these smaller groups even after switching churches or even giving up on the Sunday morning experience altogether.

Some churches have begun to recognize and lean into this reality, now referring to their small groups as “micro-churches”, “home churches”, or even “neighborhood parishes.”

It seems to be becoming more and more obvious— the kind of communion and community many people of faith are longing for most organically forms and functions around dinner tables, living room couches, and backyard fire pits.

And while many churches seem to be catching on in name, not many seem to be as eager to match that energy when it comes to their budgets, polity, decision making, or resource allocation.

We say from a stage that small groups are where “real church happens.” They are where real community and conversation can thrive— where we can “do life together” and live missionally in our neighborhoods. And yet, we rarely ever hear from these groups or get any glimpses into what they are actually doing or discussing. Even rarer is it the case to have what they do or discuss actually impact the greater church’s mission, vision, beliefs, or collective formation. Short of a giant map posted out in the lobby, these “vital backbones to the church” are often left unseen and unheard from, a mere afterthought in the midst of the gathered assembly.

Even Monday-Saturday, small group departments tend to be some of the most dysfunctional and under-supported arms of many ministry staffs. Lay leaders are often left to themselves when trying to weed through the complexities of conflict and inner-group dynamics. Tough questions and confessions of deep-seated trauma are often responded to with silence, discomfort, and zero follow-up. The same men most heard in pastor’s offices and elder meetings are unsurprisingly the only ones heard in what was supposed to be an open and diverse discussion. And often our best and only response to all of this is to simply spend more time and energy curating better, fool-proof, pre-written questions and curriculum.

We say these groups matter, that they are foundational, and it’s where we send our most committed and eager-to-connect members. And yet, they are often nowhere near the priority they should be, receiving little of the effort, resources, or intentionality they often demand.

What if “the church” began to take seriously the notion that within these groups really did exist the lifeblood of a flourishing church community? What if not just in word, but also in deed, churches began to honor the sacredness that is image-bearers looking each other in the eye and having hard, real, impactful discussions about their faith and its intersection with their everyday lives? What if those were the discussions that mattered far more than any happening behind closed doors where only men in power have a seat at the table?

What if this is where our collective beliefs were always meant to be forged? What if this is where our collective mission was always meant to be discerned? What if these were the relationships we were always meant to organize ourselves around?

What if that chat between two sleep-deprived moms actually influenced the church’s beliefs on worship? What if the trauma that one church member endured actually altered the church’s teachings on suffering? What if the church was always meant to be changed and shaped by the very people it is constantly attempting to change and shape?

I’ll end these musings with a confession: I don’t think what we are doing at We the Body is all that special. And I don’t think one should have to, whether by choice or by force, be relegated to the margins in order to find and foster this type of community.

In fact, I think this type of community is already happening within many, if not most of our existing churches today.

But I think “the church” is absolutely dropping the ball in daring to recognize and fully support just how much Church is already happening in their midst because they are too darn distracted by the constructs of church they believe matter more.

“The church’s” downright stubborn commitment to rigid Statements of Belief, completely unoriginal mission statements, and endless bearded white-guy’s “visions” is absolutely smothering the flames of the true Church that is happening all around them all of the time.

It’s happening in our living rooms, it’s happening over tea and tissues, it’s happening in the midst of us telling our stories bravely and truthfully, it’s happening in our social engagement, upheaval, and protest. Far more than it is in the midst of your elder meetings, denominational infighting, and no-girls allowed network trainings. Why do you seek the living among the dead, dear church leader? Jesus is alive and running amuck in the very spaces and people you have no real time to engage with. Don’t miss him and the Church he is building because you are too damn busy building yours.