for the love of the Church.

There we were. Singing praises under thatch roof in the church with no walls. Some were standing because of the lack of chairs, some were singing in English, some in Spanish. Some were white, some were Hispanic. But we were one. We were together and united. When we had arrived earlier that week, we had little idea of how much we would fall in love with those beautiful people that redefined church from a building to a people. We arrived and the Pastor told his church, 'imitate them, as the church imitated Paul.' How weighty a command. Did our lives image what he told his church to do? Were we worthy enough of that calling?
That church did not receive. They gave everything they had. Food, Love and Jesus. We walked home to home in that little community and invited them to our events and sat with them and told them our stories. We played with them and shared Jesus with them. The neighbors came and they made a church. Goodbyes were hard, because although we knew them for the span of a week, we were reunited with our body. We were the same.
Hidden behind a billboard at the intersection on the highway, lied a real and stunning church.

And then I came home.

I got on an airplane and flew the miles and landed in America. I went to church expecting to see the beauty and the love and the community. But all I saw were the lights and cheap decorations.
I went to church hoping to hear encouragement and truth and Gospel, but all I heard was gossip and shallowness. I went and I was disappointed. (DISCLAIMER: please read to the end to know where I'm coming from.)
My heart was broken, for half of it was with the churches I've seen in Nicaragua and the other half for the churches in India, and none of my heart was left for this church here in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.
I saw community. We talked real, we shared our struggles and we didn't leave each other to fend for themselves, we worked through things together while washing our clothes by hand or walking down the windy streets of foreign countries. We faced the tough stuff together. Together we found healing. Together we were one in Christ.
But God's words came clear back in Lancaster.

"Leah, have eyes to see." This command has been many-sided. You've read previous blogs about God giving me eyes to see. I didn't know what else my eyes could see. I have seen so many things. I have seen too many things. I have seen heartache and I have seen joy. I have seen beautifully broken people. I have seen them.
Lord, I have seen enough.
"Leah, have eyes to see."
Today, I saw. In a sudden moment at a church event today, I saw it all. I saw small churches in India with Pastor Shakespeare leading American worship, Indian style and laughter until there were tears. I saw community in a maxicab as we had worship on high and we sang together as one. I saw churches big and small in Nicaragua giving the Gospel away to all. I have seen the church in my small community of YWAM giving love in more ways then I've ever known.
I have seen the church.
"The church is here too." Jesus said.
I'm tempted to say that we lost Jesus in the sounds and the lights. I'm tempted to say we've lost Jesus in our weekly tithes and our long sermons. I'm tempted to say we have lost Jesus in our ritual and our Sundays.

But we haven't lost Jesus.

He is here. I see him as I look around my church with lights and decorations and long sermons. I see a people. I see deep and real people among the fake. I see people who love the Lord so deeply and and are finding Jesus here, in this place. They give themselves, the hurt and broken parts of themselves and they say "here I am Lord." They encourage each other and love each other and fight for each other. The church is here, it's just harder to see. I have to look deeper.
And in my fight with myself to leave the church, I have fallen in love with her. I am the Church. The Church is part of my body.
"For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body." (Ephesians 5:29)
How can I hate what is a part of me? If the Church is broken then, I am also at fault. If the Church is not thriving, how can I betray her? We have our flaws, we do not match what I have seen elsewhere. But a wise woman told me today, 'God is sovereign over this church too."
Jesus is still here. He is sovereign over this western church. We have flaws, we get distracted by our sounds and our lights and the best way to share the Gospel, but there is still a real people within the Church. The church is not the building, the Church is not where you go. The church is you. The church is your interaction with your neighbors. The Church is Global. God's character is within the off-beat chaotic churches in India, his character is in the churches run by teachers and principles. His character is in the honesty and vulnerability. His character is in the hidden churches in Communist countries. His character is displayed in the dancing charismatic churches and in the churches with no instruments and services in other languages.
The church is exactly what Christ intended it to be, unique, beautiful and His; an UNIFIED body who LOVES their neighbor, CARES for the poor, DISCIPLES the world. It is not my place to hate her, but to work together with each part of the Body to make her better, to work as one to present ourselves to Christ, blameless and acceptable.

The Church is not perfect, but I suppose that is something that comes with the sinfulness of our human nature. I suppose our imperfections are all different. But we are the Bride of Christ, we are the body of Christ. We are his and he loves us. Why should I act as if I don't belong to the very thing He created me to be apart of? Why should I act as if He does not love the Church?