the depth and beauty of the Body

It's hard to put a finger on the Body. I can't quite wrap my mind around it. Who can really define or fully explain it? [Didn't Paul call it a mystery?]

I used to think church was that big brick building with the big white cross on the front. I used to think it was the place you went on Sundays. I thought it was the place where you went to look at the back of people's heads for a couple hours while a man behind a pulpit rambles on and on.  I used to think "big church" was just for "big people" and kids were supposed to color quietly. I don't know if my mindset changed when I became a "big person" or if somebody finally got through to me.

Regardless of when I started to "get it," I've never understood so fully as I did amidst God's people in South Africa. [Disclaimer: I don't mean to say that my church has failed me or Americans can't "do church." I'm just noting my observations.]  One of the most glaring lessons I learned in Africa was the depth and beauty of the Body of Christ. While I was there I had the privilege to see many different aspects of "church." My team enjoyed a morning service in Hammanskraal, worked at a future church site in Pretoria, visited a church plant in a squatter camp, helped in a well established church in Kokstad and participated in a service in a dirt poor village called Horseshoe. Each one of those churches left an impression and each one taught me much.

The church is not a building. One of the churches we visited was in a small dilapidated building that could not be identified as a church by any outer means. A broken window revealed the dust covered cement floor and in one corner was a stack of plastic chairs. We didn't get to see this place when people gathered within to worship, but I couldn't help but imagine what it would have been like if we had. Another church we went to was in the heart of a very poor township. These beautiful people gathered faithfully several times a week in the biting cold under a mid-sized tent. A small strand of lights was draped through the middle of the tent. A few dozen white lawn chairs made up the seating, but many were left to stand for the length of the service. At the front of the tent was a makeshift stage where the pastor stood to preach. These buildings didn't keep anybody warm or comfortable. There were no formal pews or lush red carpets, no stained glass windows or grand pianos, not even a pulpit or lectern- but God was there. All these buildings boasted were the people that they hosted. Those people had nothing but Christ and most of them wouldn't have it any other way. It was the smiles they wore that distinguished them, not the tattered clothes that were draped on their backs. The bitter cold didn't matter because they were filled with Spirit fire. You wouldn't believe the worship there! Most of those saints would never win African Idol but the fervent sounds they uttered were the coolest things I've ever heard in all my life! Participating in a service like that makes Heaven seem all the sweeter. Oh that I would worship with half their zeal! Something else struck me. More than these people longed to fill their bellies, they longed for soul food. The pastor began

to expound from God's Word the simple truths of salvation and  the people hung on his every word, feverishly scribbling down notes as he spoke. I've been under the teaching of God's Word all of my life. I've sat through thousands of Bible lectures in Christian school and college. I even have a 4 year degree. But somewhere along the way I lost some of that "hunger and thirst" after righteousness. Is it poverty that sets these saints apart? Or culture?

Before I give the impression that America fails at "church," allow me to make my point clear. Being in South Africa reminded me anew that it isn't the clothes you wear, the money you make, the house you call your home, or the car you drive. It isn't the building or the color scheme, the pews, the pastor... it's not even the style of worship that matters. God established His church to be a people who as one would reflect Christ on earth and bring glory to His Name. Nothing else matters! One day EVERY knee will bow and EVERY tongue will confess Jesus Christ as Lord. One day people from EVERY tribe and EVERY nation will gather for the single purpose of worship. Until that day, I'll stand in awe of the depth and beauty of the Body. Until that day, I will worship the One who saved me and sustains me with arms high and heart abandoned. Until that day, I'll wait patiently.

"For even as the body is one and yet has many members, and all the members of the body, though they are many, are one body, so also is Christ. For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, whether slaves or free, and we were all made to drink of one Spirit. For the body is not one member, but many."

- 1 Corinthians 12:12-14 -