What's This "Day of Rest" Sh*t?!

I am chronically unchurched.


It's not something I'm proud of. But, on the other hand, it's something I'm not as concerned about as I should be. My "industry" is religion after all. And, more importantly, my faith convictions align with those beliefs traditionally espoused by Christianity. Hence I have committed myself to the path of the theologian. In the depths of my soul, I am quite genuinely tied to Christianity. And typically when someone finds themselves in an existential situation such as my own, she or he can be found attending church on Sunday morning. (Barring personal illness, the illness of a family member, travel and, for those who live near the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, Memorial Day weekend.)

Despite all these common connections, Dave Scott has seldomly made such Sunday morning appearances over the past six years. He was most certainly what you would call a regular attender of a church in Muncie, Indiana during his senior year of college, as well as during this past spring semester in Atlanta. But these periods of time are certainly the exception. If Sunday truly represents the Christian reappropriation of the Jewish Sabbath, then Dave Scott is a habitual violator of- what is most often identified as -the Fourth Commandment.

"How did you fall into this lamentably bad habit?" you might be thinking. "How did you manage to skip church so often as someone who a) went to a Christian college, b) majored in Bible & Religion, c) attended seminary for 2 years, and, d) recently dated an ordained minister?"

The quick answers to this cumbersome and contrived question are: a) The spiritual climate among the students at Anderson University seemed to me to be little more than a glorified church camp, and I wanted no part of it. b) While my studies have deepened my love and appreciation for Christianity, they have also led me to be highly critical of its present condition. c) Not everyone who goes to seminary is there to be a minister. And, d) This was an important factor in my latest stint of regular attendance.

The hardcore truth of the matter is that I lack any acceptable excuse for my lack of church attendance. Some of my reasons for not being that hot-to-trot over today's church services are respectable. I think most of the sermons I have heard are shallow; more "Storytime with Pastor X" than an exposition of Scripture. Church music is more often geared toward entertainment than worship (see Neil Postman's Amusing Ourselves to Death), and the words that accompany this music typically lack any depth of meaning or instruction. [Editorial note: Jesus is not your girl-/boyfriend! So please abstain from singing any song that portrays him as if he was.]

BUT NO MATTER HOW MANY VALID COMPLAINTS I MAY HAVE, I AM NOT ABLSOVED OF MY RESPONSIBILITY TO REMAIN INTIMATELY TIED TO A COMMUNITY OF BELIEVERS. The body of Christ has always suffered from one illness or another throughout the centuries. Who am I to say that the sickness that afflicts it in my own time is the ailment that has corrupted it beyond the point of recovery. The body lives on, my friends. And as long as it is animated by the same Spirit that has quickened it since the time of the apostles, its strength shall never fully falter. Those of us who would claim status as one of its members should uphold the responsibilities that come with the privilege of our gracious inclusion. Not the least of these responsibilities is the one I have taken all too lightly.

As a theologian, I am continually striving to exemplify in my daily interactions with friend, family, and stranger the living lessons I have gleaned from my studies. On the whole, I can humbly say that I am successful. But the power of my words and actions are tempered for many brothers and sisters by my lax approach toward church attendance. Many, many persons have the opposite problem: they attend church regularly but their understanding of Christian existence remains compartmentalized. "Jesus time" stays confined to Sunday morning, extending maybe to Sunday or Wednesday evening and the occasional special event. Yet, even as I strive to avoid their shortcomings, I fail to mirror one of their most laudable practices.

Now that I've returned to the old homestead, my family has asked that I attend services somewhere. And it just so happens that one of my best friends spent the summer trying to sell me on the idea of going to his church...a local community of believers who likely share many of my convictions about what church should be. This Sunday, I get off my lazy butt and act like someone who gives a damn.