It just makes sense...

Lately, I've had many conversations about the "church". What it means, what it's intended to look like, etc.
It's frustrating how God made us so different. I'm beginning to see that it takes all kinds in order to live in this big universe. As much as some would classify me as a egalitarian, feminist, or "equalist" (to make feminism a little safer to identify with), I would also classify myself partially as a "debbie-downer". I don't think this world will ever see justice fully restored, the strong fully become weak, and the rich fully become poor, at least not until this world is fully restored to it's original and perfected state (talked about Romans). Having said that, I would also like to assert that I believe we can see the Kingdom in it's fully human, fully broken, and fully beautiful state here on earth, even if only in part. I'm probably being very vague and confusing here, for that I apologize. Let me try and work this out as it has been going through my brain.
When I think about my current church situation and even many churches I visit, I can't help but think about what attracted me to it in the first place. Yes, for the church I'm attending now, the youth group/kids attracted me. But it goes much deeper than that. It's a secure, comfortable place, where it's almost recognized as "cool" to be a "Christ-follower". The lights, the sound, the techno, the humour, the edgey video clips that incorporate some sort of controversial message and does not hide from coarse language, are all characteristics of a "church" that I attend. To walk into church on a Sunday, it is easy for me to be overlooked. I think I find comfort in that. Knowing that if I don't want to be in conversation with someone, I can go in, sing, listen, maybe let out a chuckle here and there, and leave. Having absolutely NO human contact, but potentially the person I had to body slam to make it to the middle sit (for whatever reason, people think it's cool to sit on the end of the rows...NEWS FLASH: it's NOT).
To me, "church" in the loose definition that I'm giving it, as somewhere you go on Sunday mornings, is easy for me. Really, it's easy for us all.
In writing my previous blog (Red Carpet), and reading some of my friend's blogs, I am consistently reminded that Christ's life was radical, was different, was not easy, further, was extremely DIFFICULT, was one of struggle, defeat, and pain. It's easy to romanticize this life, it's easy to go into a flashy church with A LOT of people and leave, feeling that we've done humanity a favour by just entering the doors. Might I suggest, this thinking is blemished.
So, WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!
Why do I continue going?
Why do I continue feeding into the disarranged attitudes of the church?
Why do I continue to try and make myself as comfortable as possible?
Why do I justify that?
Why am soooo fearful of change?

My answer to this is not well thought out, but I'll give it a go:

Humanity is messed up.
We long for human to human contact, and yet, find ourselves seeking out the biggest crowd to belong to.
When we get that "Go Big or Go Home" mentality, we feel disengaged with those around us and seek out desparately for the few people that will care for us.
So why am I so scared of "church", as defined in Hebrews: "where 2 or 3 are gathered together in my name, there I am, and that is church", why am I so scared, of the church in Acts, where people ate and spent time together, why am I so quick to retreat from living out love and care for orphans and widows, like James tells us?
I'll tell you why. Because I fear you.
Within these references of church, it is evident that communities were small, they were personable, they were vulnerable. Vulnerability is a scary scary thought. Not because I fear people giving me their burdens, but I fear that you will want mine.
Smallness scares people because all the sudden we are WHO we are.
We have no one, no lights, no sounds, no entertainment to hide behind. We simply MUST be who we are.
At the same time, I think that's what we all crave. We all desire to be US, we desire to have a voice, we desire to matter.
Maybe that's why the flashly lights and entertainment sustain for awhile, but not forever.
For me, the harder choice is to choose the small community, and know that not only do I have a voice, but it's necessary that I use it.
To be loved. To be cared for.
Further, to struggle, to endure suffering with each other.
Community is such a strange concept.
I don't know why, but it just makes sense.
Maybe that's just the way it should be?