Authentic Church—Thoughts From an Ex-radical Individualist

Jesus was a revolutionary, right? He did His own thing, defying religious and political authorities alike. As His followers, then, shouldn’t we have the same attitude of authenticity? Shouldn’t our worship be marked by courageous nonconformity?

These were my thoughts, I confess, at a decidedly non-revolutionary moment. One Sunday morning the worship leader instructed the congregation to rise. I didn’t want to. I didn’t feel like it. To stand, I told myself, would be a lie. Wasn’t it more important to be authentic before God?

So I stayed put as everyone else stood. I even kneeled instead, copping a cool attitude while putting on pious airs. And I continued to act this way on other Sundays. As I look back I have no idea how many worship services I disrupted with my petulant rebellion. I don’t know what I missed during my “I’m not religious, I’m spiritual” phase, refusing to stand or disassociating from “embarrassing” Christians. I thought of myself as “deep,” surrounded by shallow Christians.

Eventually God opened my eyes. He showed me what He’s doing through His church and taught me to truly worship the Christ who saved me from my sin, rebellion, and aloneness.

Why did I waste precious years of my life being too cool to meaningfully belong to the church? I thought worship was primarily about me and God. I had an individualistic view, thinking the church was nothing more than a collection of separate believers.

Radical individualism—refusing to belong to anyone or anything—is contagious. I’d caught the bug and carried it into my faith. That’s not a hard mistake to make. As products of our culture, we’ve been trained to tolerate no limits on our options. “Be yourself and follow your heart,” we’ve been told. But what about God’s heart in the matter?

We’re pretty good at guarding against some sins, but because of American cultural blinders, others often escape notice. I’ve been challenged, for instance, to guard my sexuality—a very good idea—but never confronted about my self-centeredness. Over the years I’ve controlled my appetites, but I haven’t asked whether cynical faith is dead faith. I’ve watched the words that come out of my mouth, but I’ve tolerated attitudes of contempt.

For a long time I hid my attitudes behind a screen called “authenticity.” But I’ve realized lately just how different Christian authenticity is from the mainstream version. We often confuse being authentic with being autonomous. Autonomy means “a law unto oneself”—it’s about being master of our own little universe.

Of course that’s nonsense. Only God is autonomous, and Jesus is to be our King. Heaven isn’t here yet, but the church is. It’s a community like no other, created by God Himself. Christianity isn’t a lifestyle; it’s an altogether new way of being human. Christ is creating a community who will be with Him forever. So the church is our authentic identity.

Surrendering my me-focused identity and gaining an authentically Christian one has been a little disorienting. Community doesn’t come easily. I’ve had to train myself to think in terms of something bigger than my horizons. I’ve had to learn to love—not just tolerate—other ways of worship. I’ve had to learn to submit my needs to other people’s needs.

Does it really matter if I stand when told? Not really. But fully participating as part of the church is significant ” and far “deeper” than asserting my individuality. So I’ve begun to stand with others in worship. It isn’t magical. Rays don’t beam down from heaven. But in leaving my attitude on the pew, I’ve begun in a new way to be authentic. My simple body language demonstrates to me and everyone else that I belong to the body of Christ.

This article was originally printed in CS magazine.