The Church (or, A Serious Post)

If Christianity is a crutch, then call me a cripple.

Okay, I wouldn’t be a Christian if I didn’t believe, first and foremost, that it is true.  But we Christians can’t get all offended if somebody accuses us of using Christianity as a crutch.  We are the sick, we are the crippled, and we need all the help we can get.

This is a theme that’s been rattling around in my head since getting to Germany.  For the first two weeks of being here, we felt very alone.  People were friendly to us: a wonderful realtor, a great banker, a hospitable owner of our holiday cottage.  But there’s a difference between friendliness and real friendship.  These are not the people that you call up to go out for a drink, or the people who can sympathize about the challenges you’re having in acclimating.  So we frequently felt very alone and very isolated in our new culture.

And then, week 2, we went to church.  Sure, we didn’t understand the sermon, or the songs.  But we met brothers and sisters.  A wonderful couple picked us up from our holiday rental and drove us to church.  Another family offered to drive us home.  An older gentleman chased us down the stairs after church was over asking questions about where we were from.  Later in the week, we met up with a new friend for an introduction to smoked beer.  People have been very gracious about trying to speak English to us, and have expressed interest in our lives.

In contrast to the prevailing mindset of our culture, in contrast to my own fierce independence, Christ teaches me that I need.  I need the kindness of God’s people.  I need church.  I need a crutch.