Biola University First Year Student Journals

Dating Churches

December 2, 2005 | 7 comments

For 18 years, I really didn't have to make a choice: when it came to churches, I was where my dad was. If God called him to pastor a church, I was sticking there, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health. Sequoia Heights has been my church home for fifteen years and counting, meaning that if I liked the electric guitar at church X better than at Sequoia, I was out of luck. If all the "cool people" decided to go to church Y rather than Sequoia, I was out of luck. If they served chocolate covered cherries and blueberry muffins after every service at church Z, but not at Sequoia, you guessed it. I was out of luck.

So it was quite a culture shock when I got down to Biola and realized that (gasp) I'm an adult now, and mommy and daddy are 350 miles away.

I can do whatever I want.

When it came to churches, I felt like a kid in a candy store. Southern California has a gazillion churches, which are each a whole lot bigger than most Nor Cal churches. And since their primary competitors are Disneyland, Universal Studios, and Knott's Berry Farm, they don't mess around. Services at some of these churches are flawless musically, technically and visually. The hard part about some of these places was finding where the perfection ended and the realness began.

For the first few weeks, some friends and I went church shopping. It was a completely new experience for a girl who hadn't been churchless since the first George Bush was in office. Suddenly, I wasn't part of the worship band. Suddenly the preacher was not someone who tucked me in at night and said prayers with me at bedtime. These were strangers, and I, the church-shopper, was the critic.

Suddenly, I was dating churches. And out came "the checklist": I wanted a church that was sensitive, trustworthy, had a good sense of humor, and looked good in a cutoff shirt (okay, maybe the dating analogy stops there). Anything less got the boot.

Let's just say it took a while until I realized that "the perfect church" doesn't exist, not even in Southern California. But what does exist is a flawed church, with lots of flawed people. This is where God wants me to be right now. And that church is called Grace Long Beach.

If Grace isn't the flashiest, the biggest, or the hippest church around, it's got a heart for the community and a reverence for God's word that makes up for it. On Halloween, my roommate Jenny and I helped out at a carnival Grace hosted in their parking lot. There were three thousand people there! I was amazed, considering the Halloween carnival my home church hosts draws about a hundred people each year.

I got the job of greeter, which meant I smiled, said hello, and handed a plastic treat bag to almost all of the 3,000 people who attended. The miniature Batmans, Cinderellas, and Mr. Incredibles were wide-eyed, thrilled that they got the chance to dress up and collect candy. If Grace didn't hold the carnival, these kids would have to trick-or-treat in the dark, run-down apartments surrounding the church building. But the people of Grace move in a massive way to put this on, even if it means they won't get anything in return.

It's one of those churches that exists not to be served, but to serve. But alas, the church dating continues. There's another great place I visit on days I can't get a ride to Grace, and it's called Shorelife Church. It's a small, new church of about 200 people, although I can't imagine it will stay that way: on one recent visit, we witnessed a baby dedication ceremony. There were about 100 people in service, and 15 babies were being dedicated (yes, fifteen—maybe there's something in the water)!

But aside from the almost disturbingly disproportionate amount of infants, the church is amazing. You can just feel the vibrancy in the music, in the teaching. The pastor reminds me of a more hyper version of my dad. It's great.

I'm pretty torn between Grace and Shorelife. Dating two churches can be draining. Sometimes I just want to, well…get church-married. It will be so great to finally have one church to serve in, to build relationships in, and to invest in.

Right now it's all about waiting patiently for God to say "here", and being willing to commit to that body of believers for the long run. I'm not going to lie - it's frustrating. But I'm trusting God will clear up this confusion soon.

So stand by your mailbox, because when it happens, you just might get an engagement announcement.

Journal Entries

• Swimming Through School
• Dance of the Head-Bobbing
• A Week in the Woods
• No Job, No School, and Six Weeks of Break
• Narnia Premiere Night - Just Short of a Fairy Tale
• Dating Churches
• Sabbath
• Musings on Torrey Honors and Jacuzzis

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