Today I went to church.
I put on decent clothes, drove in a car, and went to church for the first time in 10 months.
While many churches in my city have been open for months, our church has held off having in-person services until this weekend. It wasn't like they opened up the flood gates and let in the masses. We're a megachurch, so we had to make reservations and wear masks and social distance. We were also encouraged by our church leaders to hold off a bit longer if we're doing fine with online church in order to make space for those who really needed to be there in person.
As soon as I got the news about reopening, I knew I was a person who really needed to be there, but I couldn't have told you exactly why. As I was sitting there this morning, I figured it out.
It's not because I missed the church building.
Not because I missed seeing other people.
Not because I missed hearing a live message or singing with a live worship band. (As a side note, I thought I really wouldn't sing at all because of the mask. I planned to sort of whisper-sing the words to myself, as I've mostly done at home the past 10 months in an effort to avoid being obnoxiously loud and annoying to my family members. But this morning, all thoughts of the mask quickly disappeared and I sang with reckless abandon, not caring one iota if my harmonizing was pitchy.)
My reason for needing to go back to church wasn't any of the things I would have guessed. It was because I need to feel like I'm making an offering to God, and that offering needs to cost me something.
I'm reading Leviticus right now, which reminds me of how costly the Israelites' offerings were. A bull was expensive, so much so that most people couldn't give one. God needed to give the people other cheaper options, from smaller animals to grain offerings, but all of them were costly. Not only was there a monetary expense, but sacrifices were terribly inconvenient. Who "just happens" to have time in their day to stop what they're doing, look for a perfect animal, wrangle it to the tabernacle, and wait their turn for the priest in order to make their offering? They didn't exactly have a webinar to watch or kids to get to soccer, but I'm sure sacrifices never felt easy or convenient.
While I am not comparing my experience today with the Israelites, I am comparing it to what "church" has looked like the past 10 months.
Today, I had to be mindful of getting up on time and using my minutes well. I fixed my hair and put on makeup. I dressed up (a little). I asked teenagers to get up three hours earlier than they're used to and dealt with the salty attitudes that produced. I herded sleepy, uncommunicative people into the car in a timely fashion, which was no small feat. Because we had inches of new snow today, shoveling and scraping were required, as was navigating all the cars in our driveway while not really being able to see out of the back windshield. (Thankfully, the only casualty was a broken broom that I ran over with my car.)
These things are a little costly. Not sacrificing-a-bull-without-blemish-or-defect costly, but also not nothing.
And then there are the things you encounter when you get to church. The icy parking lot. The person who parks too close to you. Listening to the loud woman sing off-key two rows behind you. A crying baby. A drafty room. A few too many flashing lights during worship. The traffic exiting the parking lot.
It cost something to go to church today. It's not the same as picking the day and time that best fit with my schedule, strolling over to the couch in the clothes I slept in, and turning on the TV. You can slouch and even lie down during home church. You can check your phone occasionally, cozy up with a blanket, eat a snack, or get up to throw the clothes in the dryer. It's really all about you; do whatever's convenient and feels good. At least that's what it felt like to me.
Going to church, a real, live church, is not necessarily convenient. Sometimes, it's downright difficult. But it's God's will for us. Based on Hebrews 10:25 ("let us not neglect our meeting together"), we could even say it's a command. Obedience to God's will requires sacrifice. And today, for the first time in my life, going to church felt like making a sacrifice to God. My offering to Him was tiny, but it was an offering. And that's what I've been missing.
I'm not judging anyone who chooses online church. People have good reasons for making that choice. But for me personally, I need to worship in a way that feels like it's much less about me and much more about God. I need to go to church with all the costly things that entails.
