Two summers ago I was in Suffolk, Virginia with my then-fiancé, visiting some of her extended family. Even though I spent my childhood in a part of West Virginia which even someone from Suffolk would find empty, I don’t feel that Suffolk could ever be home to me, not even with all that Southern sweet tea. On this particular visit to the “upper deep-south”, I was listening to some of the older folks have a conversation about their church. But, whenever they would reference the activity of going to church, they would instead say, “goin’ to preachin’.”

Now, if you have relatives who speak with that kind of southern twang, first of all, no need to cringe. I admit, I found my own diction in utter chaos after our visit, but it recovered. Since that time, I’ve come to notice a big contrast in the mentality between a place like Suffolk, and a College town such as our own. We, of course, do not typically use the phrase “goin’ to preachin’”, but rather, “going to church.” Seems like the more appropriate thing to say, doesn’t it? But may I submit to you that I think there’s a lesson to be learned from this simple difference in lingo.

Think about this question: What is the church? If you’ve spent much time around Aletheia, or in the Discipleship Course, you know that the church is not a structure. The word refers to those who are called out for a special purpose. Its substance is not in concrete and steel; it’s in flesh and bone. We, you and I, are the church, and it goes wherever we go. So in reality, whose description of what we do on Sunday mornings is more accurate? It’s those good-ole folks in Suffolk. We do not go to church on Sunday mornings; the church gathers to worship her bridegroom, and to hear his Word.

What would it look like if we really applied this mentality? It would mean taking our moments with other believers, outside the walls of our warehouse, more seriously, as times of worship even. It would mean dissolution of those social groups that inevitably form (churches made up of cliques and politics are dead). It would mean not giving new visitors the “slow head-to-toe” when they come through the door. Most importantly, it would mean living out Philippians 2 every day of our lives. The same spirit that envelops us at Aletheia on Sunday mornings can be accessed at any moment. Four walls, a sound system, and a lot of fellow believers, are not prerequisites for an experience of worship and learning. Aletheia Church is not a building; it is you and I.

As I went about my errands today, I found myself thinking over and over again about the intensity and momentum that enveloped our service at Aletheia yesterday. This afternoon, my reading time was interrupted when the melody-line of “The Time Has Come” (the first song we played yesterday) crept into my brain. I mentally followed the guitar lines till the song ended, then reflected on taking the bread and cup, and then hearing hundreds of voices singing “Jesus Paid It All”, and then… I realize that I’ve been staring at the same word on the page for just about four minutes. I feel lazy.

The reason I reminisce is to tell all of you that yesterday was one of the greatest services in any church that I’ve ever experienced. I think sometimes we catch just a glimpse of the majesty of God; moments when we really do forget about everything else and intentionally let our spirits overflow with praises. And when the service is over, we leave the building feeling as though we stepped outside our bodies for just a moment. Yesterday was one of those days.

But, in all fairness to reality, we’ve all had days like that before haven’t we? We worship loudly in song, and listen intently to the Word as its being taught, and we say “this time I’m getting serious about my faith.”

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I didn’t make a resolution this year. I couldn’t decide which thing I’d like to improve on the most, even if I could, it would take all of a month to lose momentum and botch it. We all lose momentum, to be sure. And if it happens over and over, we might feel like we can never get serious about anything. Why should we ever feel confident about resolving to do better in our relationships with God?

Well, as in all cases when there is something in our lives we want to change, we have to pray. It must be intentional, specific, and continual prayer that God will give us a desire to know Him more. Consider something Paul wrote at the end of Thessalonians: “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Jesus Christ for you.” (Thess. 5:16-18) There is no room in this verse for a loss of momentum: pray without ceasing. Pray for the ability to keep your mind concerned with spiritual things, which are eternal and real, and for power over the carnal distractions of life, which are imperfect and fleeting. This is how we keep our momentum: by realizing, truly realizing, the darkness of this world, and the grace and beauty of our Lord.