Of course, ironies abound when you study human behavior. One of the funnier ones to me is that if you and I were to take our local CofC sign out front and add to it the words “A Non-Denominational Community Church” we’d get in huge trouble. Even though a non-denominational community church is what we’ve been taught for decades that we are. The trouble is that now some of the “denominations” are using that phrase and, in order to fulfill the strange mandate to be different from all other faith traditions, we can’t use it.

The problem for us comes with our own attitudes when we say we’re not a denomination. We’re intentionally setting ourselves over and against all other Christian groups. That’s flat out sin.

I like Garrett’s “denomination in protest.” Let’s admit to the obvious, that we are certainly a denomination. But let’s also point to the ideal, to our God’s ultimate will for unity among all his children.

For some really terrific insights into why the CoCs today think the way we do, I highly recommend “Things Unseen” by Leonard Allen. It’s excellent. It analyzes all of our peculiarities — the five steps of salvation, a cappella music, our unique views on baptism, the limits we impose on the Holy Spirit, our biblical hermeneutic — and traces back to their origins. And then Allen presents a fantastic case for the CoCs to be perfectly positioned for evangelism and revival in our post-denominational, post-Christian world. It’s a great book. We may review that one next.

I am CoC born and bred and I was told, directly, that we were a “non-denominational” group. I always found that a bit odd, but it was clearly in the name of being different. We don’t go to FCA like kids from “those denominations” do. etc. I think, like you say, that to call ourselves otherwise feels like semantics. It’s SOLELY based on trying not to be like those other groups, not really on trying to be the unique body of Christ the Gospel calls for.

And, to be absolutely clear, I don’t look back and see my spiritual upbringing as negative in all ways or inherently dysfunctional. Far from it. But as adults, we all look back to see just how our upbringing/foundation applies to our current lives, our current attempts to be Christ-like, our current attempts to grow spiritually.

Three other things that come to mind as I have wrestled with my spiritual life and the issues you’ve brought up in your posts:

1. It’s all about the Kingdom of God. And the Kingdom is not the doctrinally superior group of Christians. Such a view is inherently inward-focused. The Kingdom is literally and spiritually God’s presence on Earth. The Kingdom is God’s intentional start to his re-creation project that started with Jesus’ victory over death makes us the body of Christ everywhere we go, proclaiming God’s sovereignty over everything from the fabric of the universe to the cubicles we work in – and it’s ALL so others can see it. If we are praying, striving, meditating on how to be that to the world and not just each other, that will include sound doctrine. But the doctrine simply is not what ensures it. (ie, we are to BE the kind of people who would give all our money for Jesus, not just give the right amount every week (10 percent,etc.)).

2. I think, at times, groups like the CoC can inadvertently rely too much on the slippery slope mentality. We’ve seen man mess it up before, so we assume better safe than sorry. But that is also inherently inward focused and passive. We become stewards of the traditions that feel safe and run the risk of making them our focus.

Thanks again for your thoughts and this forum.

Zach

One of my struggles as of late is a recognition that the more and more a given congregation grows into being more [truly] Biblical and looking more like Christ, very often the less and less it looks like our beloved, traditional “church of Christ” (denominationally speaking) of the last century or so. I struggle with what to let go of, and what to hold on to, even recognizing that a lot of it is only preference or tradition.

Consider some of the examples of these kinds of effective churches Garrett offers toward the end of this compilation – I know you’ll get to it in coming chapters. Some of those churches have moved away from the the familiar church of Christ setting, and have thrived and been blessed, doing way more than otherwise would likely have been possible in the familiar. Others seem to have died out, or perhaps have blended with other groups and left the familiar as well. Only one or two appear to have remained familiar, and yet they seem to have still declined in the two decades since the Garrett’s writings.

I suppose I find a sadness at letting go of some of the familiar, but also at realizing that at least some of our familiar has been flat out wrong. I shudder to think of how many we’ve turned away from faith because of our ways. I’m fighting this very fight at someone’s side, even right now. It’s sad. It’s hard. It hurts. It’s a lack of faith. And it’s sin.

I struggle with the question of why can we not seem to grow, mature, get real and be authentic, reach out, and be effectively and powerfully Christ-like, while at the same time preserving and cherishing the familiar? Can we not find a balance? Does growing and maturing necessitate leaving a lot of the familiar behind?

Lastly, why do “great churches” die out? Seems that, often, once “great churches” were great for the already-saved that went to those churches, like a club. A CLOSED club at that, that was hard to break into if you didn’t know the ropes. And this continues today.

So for “great churches” of today, for whom are they great? The members? The lost? God? Jesus? Would the broken and down-trodden feel welcomed and think of a given place as a great church?

Seems that a great church that is great only for its own people is at high-risk of losing its mission, stagnating, and dying out. It seems that reflects many of our churches today – “come be like us, b/c we’re great and everything is fine here! And if you don’t join us, well, not my problem!” – when in fact, the broken don’t trust it, and know it’s not likely true, and don’t feel welcomed.

If we’re not overly welcoming even to Christians of other stripes, imagine how much less welcomed a “sinner” feels? This is a sin of the church – “the club” – that we must repent of. We must, starting with me.

Sorry for the length. This stuff has been heavy on my heart lately, and the book and your series are very timely.