Why go to church?

 

Having just had two Sundays off while I recuperated from surgery…

and with no need to get out of bed early…

and to brave the cold…

I have to be honest—

when my alarm went off this morning…

I lay there for a moment pondering that very question.

Why go to church?

However else it might be dressed up— 

with the somewhat noble language of ‘calling’ or ‘vocation’—

the bottom line is that I go to church because it’s my job…

and I have to.

But why does anyone else— 

who isn’t paid to get up and lead Sunday worship—

go to church?

 

Of course, there are many possible reasons.

Some people go because it’s a habit—

something that their family always did, when they were growing up;

something that they have done all their lives;

so that not going just feels kind of strange or wrong.

Some people go because that’s where they find community…

or a sense of belonging.

Some people go because what they do at church—

be it arranging flowers…

greeting people…

making morning tea…

or serving on a management committee—

gives them a sense of purpose…

and, maybe, a sense of power.

Some people go because it meets a particular, personal need—

psychologically and/or spiritually;

because they’re conscious of having a “God-shaped hole” that needs to be filled;

or, as St Augustine puts it in his famous prayer, because “Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you”.

And, for many of us, it’s probably a combination of several—

if not all of those.

 

But another way of looking at that question is to say that…

at heart…

religion serves a particular function.

We participate because it serves some sort of personal function for us—

in the same way that, for those who do not go to church,

they perceive that it does not meet their particular, personal needs;

or, from experience, they have found it detrimental to their needs.

But, if we consider it on a broader scale, religion also serves a significant social function.

For many groups in our society, religion has a function in terms of socio-cultural identity.

For example, a large part of what it means to be Greek…

is tied up with the rhythm and flow… 

and the traditions…

of the Greek Orthodox Church.

 

Indeed… 

speaking historically and anthropologically…

religion began as a means of structuring and maintaining a relationship with some supernatural being…

for the benefit of the kin-group… 

and for the benefit of the state.

There was, essentially, both a household or family religion…

and a state or civic religion.

Religion, then, played a fundamental role in the function of the family…

and in the function of the state;

and religion served to define the family and the state.

They were intimately and inherently connected.

Politics was religious.

And religion was political.

 

Now, that was of critical importance in the first-century world—

at the time when Jesus lived and taught.

It fundamentally shaped their beliefs, their expectations, their hopes, and their very way of life.

Indeed, for the Hebrew people in the first century…

living under what they perceived to be the brutality of  Roman rule…

and, associated with that, the ignominy of their God being subjugated by the gods of Rome…

they longed for and they expected…

the coming of a great leader…

who would throw out the Romans, restore their independence and self-rule…

and restore God’s rightful honour.

Religion was political.

And politics was religious.

But that also meant that religion was innately conservative.

Any religious change inevitably meant political change and social change.

And vice versa.

 

So when, in our story this morning, Jesus announces that he’s heading to Jerusalem…

where he expects to be tried and executed…

you can understand why Peter would be so upset.

He believed that Jesus was the one who would put everything right;

the one who would throw out the dreaded Romans and restore the kingdom of Israel…

and, hence, restore God’s honour and reputation in the world.

And, so, Peter told him off.

And while the actual wording of his rebuke is not clear in the original Greek, the sense certainly is.

The very thought that Jesus would suffer and die—

and not fulfil the hopes and expectations of the Hebrew people for liberation—

were both incomprehensible and intolerable to Peter’s way of thinking.

Jesus, however, saw it very differently.

That, he suggested, was thinking ‘the things of people’ rather than ‘the things of God’.

To Peter’s way of thinking, however, that was essentially an oxymoron.

The two were not separate.

The two could not be separated like that.

Religion was inherently political.

And religion basically existed to prop up the structures of their society.

But Jesus, here, seems to undermine that.

And Peter couldn’t grasp it.

It’s doubtful that the later readers of Matthew’s Gospel could grasp it…

as they, in their own way, struggled to live within the structures and the strictures of Roman rule.

And, down the centuries, the church has failed to grasp it too.

Even today, in our very different…

post-modern…

post-industrial…

largely secularised society…

we mostly live with the assumption that religion is inherently conservative.

It’s been co-opted by…

and been used to prop up…

certain political ideologies and even political parties.

It’s been weaponised by certain sections of the church to force through their repressive, conservative social agendas…

and to prevent more progressive ones.

And most of us have simply been socialised into a form of religion that is, essentially conservative and quietist.

Indeed, in the post-war period, religion became a very effective prop to society… 

in a way…

and to an extent… 

that it had not been since, perhaps, the Middle Ages.

Religion, for us…

has become something private and personal.

It’s become a means of meeting my psycho-spiritual needs…

or my sense of existential angst.

But, to a very large extent, it has not provoked us to question the structures of our society…

and whether they are fundamentally compatible with the person…

the life…

and the teaching of Jesus Christ… 

or not.

We have been conditioned into giving charitable donations…

rather than advocating for real and meaningful change…

on a structural or societal level.

We have been conditioned to ponder our own relationship with God…

and to confess our individual, personal, shortcomings…

rather than ponder how our way of life props up the injustices of our society…

and world…

and to confess our collective shortcomings.

We have, in effect, been conditioned to think like Peter…

rather than like Jesus.

We certainly have not been encouraged to consider—

and I mean really consider—

what it might mean to do as Jesus, suggests here … 

and to re-imagine our religious life and devotion as picking up and carrying a cross;

as being— 

metaphorically but fundamentally— 

a call to voluntary martyrdom for the salvation and re-creation of our world.

But, imagine if we did!