Restoring Kingdom Builders

Have you ever gone to church and suddenly developed a serious case of … the creeps?

It happened to me recently.

My wife and I visited a church that was recommended by a colleague.

After parking our car, we felt creepy because we didn’t know where the worship center was – so we guessed its location.  Fortunately, we guessed correctly.

As we walked toward the worship center, though, we didn’t know where to enter it.  Suddenly, a flustered woman appeared and tried to open the door.  It wouldn’t budge.

It felt … creepy.

She did open it on the second attempt, though, and we walked into a small worship center jammed with people … and I instantly felt claustrophobic.

And creepy.

We couldn’t find seats without assistance, so an usher pointed out two empty seats near the back.  We hurriedly sat down.

The worship time was somewhat pleasant, but also felt … well, you know.  I’ve seen worship bands arranged on the stage in various ways, but I’ve never seen six band members on the right side of the stage while the worship leader stood in the corner on the left side of the stage before.  It looked awkward.

I wore jeans to church, like I usually do, but the elders – who served communion – all wore coats and ties.  Some of you may be acclimated to that kind of formal attire, but nobody in our church in Arizona dressed formally, so it felt uncomfortable.

But nothing prepared me for the pastor’s message.

I look for three things when I hear a message: biblical accuracy, intellectual stimulation, and emotional connection.

The pastor was biblically accurate.

There was zero intellectual stimulation.  Many churchgoers may not need that, but I do.  Platitudes aren’t enough.

But I was most troubled by the pastor’s tone while preaching.  It was like he was divine and expected divinity from the rest of us.  We weren’t allowed to be human … nor was anyone else.

A pastor connects best with a congregation when he admits his humanity.  He includes himself in his preaching by using the term “we” and by telling stories that demonstrate that he’s struggling with living like Jesus, just like the rest of us.

But this pastor didn’t tell even one story … and made me feel like I could never measure up to his expectations, much less those of Jesus.

At the conclusion of his message, he told us that if we had fear or anxiety in our lives, we needed to repent of our sin before the Lord.

I felt terrible, because the church had already created so much fear and anxiety in me that by the end of the service, I still hadn’t repented of all my fear and anxiety.

Creepyville.

We couldn’t wait to leave.  All I was thinking was, “Where did I park?  Get me out of here.”

I freely admit that I am not the measure of normalcy when it comes to churchgoing.  There were people who seemed to love the church regardless of my feelings about it.

But the number one feeling I had that morning was:

THIS CHURCH IS NOT FOR PEOPLE LIKE ME.

And, quite frankly, they aren’t ready for any newcomers, either.

I felt like I invaded their secret club.

Have you ever had a creepy church experience?  If so, my readers would love to hear about it.