I borrowed this picture from Anne & May because I’m over on their site today as a guest blogger while May is on honeymoon, and this is the picture they used for my post on church hopping.
I’ve never known (or used really) that phrase as anything but a negative. On my post there, though, you’ll see what I’ve learned to love about it.
UPDATE: The blog referenced no longer exists. Below is the content from that guest post:
A new church just came to my town, and I’m trying to figure out if it’s The One – the one that will end my career. Because until recently, I’ve really considered becoming a professional church hopper.
I’ve technically been doing it for over three years now, although not really on purpose. Several different circumstances kept us from settling down before now. But I think it’s time. I almost feel excited at the prospect.
I’ve asked a few people how you choose. And I’ve used the phrase, “There’s no New Testament precedent for choosing a church” way too many times for it to actually mean anything anymore. You get it, though, right? It was just the “church in Galatia” back then. Your denomination was your city. Most people in my life feel that you just kind of know or that you are actually called to a certain church. But for three years, I didn’t feel called to any of them. So I’m wondering if I don’t believe that anymore. Pastors come and go. Congregations come and go. What is it that you are actually called to?
It might not be these questions at all, though, that are stopping me. After all, I do have opinions about preaching and music styles. I know whether I prefer blue jeans and padded chairs or dresses and pews. I think it’s something else. I think it’s the thrill I get from seeing strangers partake of the bread and the cup. (If you’re a professional church hopper, they’re always strangers.) The swell I feel to see so many different kinds of people coming together over the one thing we can all agree on. I love that feeling. It’s like a weekly “Hey, me too!” And I don’t want to give it up.
Not having a church has removed a lot of walls I used to find between myself and others. Christians don’t think of me as a Pentecostal, a dunker or a sprinkler, too seeker-friendly, too isolated. I’m just a fellow believer (who has kind of lost her way to not have a church home – but still). I feel less of a wall with the non-church goers as well. I feel like not having a church solidifies the fact that I’m on a journey – just like anyone else. Anyone can see I have not arrived at the end simply because I believe.
I saw a funny t-shirt once that said “Go local sports team or college!” It suited me because I just kind of go with the flow when it comes to sports. I’m glad they’re out there, but – you know. And right now I feel I wear a t-shirt like that for Christianity. Every Christian I meet feels I may as well be one of them since I don’t yet belong to anyone else. I think I’m afraid that if I settle down, I’ll lose that connection. I’ll lose the “Hey, me too” and replace it with, “But we do it this way.” I know I can’t visit forever. I can basically feel the need to choose.
But I’m really going to miss the hopping.