"What is Church" is the Wrong Question

I hate that question. Not that I really get it that often, because most people already have a preconceived notion of "what church is," so the conversation usually turns to a list of styles, songs, warm & fuzzy feelings, and what makes a good pastor.

I hate it because I am so guilty of getting sucked into qualifying a church by the "what's." I hate it because it is the wrong question. It is Satan's way of deceiving us into believing that we are better off on our own. The right question, the one that always leads us to the foot of the cross, is "Who is the Church?" And Paul gives an incredible answer in Ephesians:

"Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior...Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless...After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church— for we are members of his body."

Where am I going with all this? This morning, I went to church. My mom, my dad, my sister, my husband and I all sat around a picnic table at a campsite with a couple of bibles, and the Holy Spirit of the Living God was there among us as thick as a storm cloud. He blessed us with His Spirit as we walked prayerfully and carefully through some really tough issues that were causing division in our family. We were lovingly honest. There were tears. Our burdens were laid out on the table. Christ spoke through my husband many times to bring biblical insight into some of those "family" issues. I LOVE that my husband is able to speak such tender wisdom. We prayed together, prayed for guidance, prayed for acceptance, prayed for strongholds to be broken and peace to invade. It was a beautiful picture of the simplicity of church. Not a full picture of everything God intends for the church to be, but a sliver of that "cleansing by the washing of the water with the word."

The funny thing is that I didn't really want to sit down at the table this morning. My sister had made the suggestion that we all sit around the table and "talk about what God is doing in our lives." If you know me at all, invitations like that make me want to turn and run as fast as my legs will carry me to the next continent. I don't know why, they just do. I sat down begrudgingly, and God did something miraculous. I'm sure glad he doesn't need us, but I am so much more glad that he wants us anyway!!