True church isn’t always comfortable.
It doesn’t always have the cushiest seats.
True church is congregation at its purest, not its most profitable.
True church is people clapping off beat, only a handful knowing the words, and the rest just making them up as they go.
True church runs on prayer.
It seeks after relationship, not religion.
It doesn’t care about the size of your offering.
It doesn’t boast about the speed of its growth.
True church is among the people, not in a progress report.
True church is worship songs under a starry, smoggy sky.
It’s a palpable eagerness to hear the Word.
It’s the power of the gospel being SO evident that satan panics and tries to stop the numbers that are being added daily.
True church is lifted hands as much as it is folded hands in your lap.
It’s extensive sermon notes and it’s soaking it all in without writing down a word.
True church is not a building.
It’s not a clique.
It’s not a stage.
True church happens under a tarp, or on bamboo mats, curled up next to a rice cooker, literally in the middle of a stranger’s kitchen.
I experienced true church this month,
and it was beautiful.
