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If you want to know your church’s weaknesses and strengths, you must look at it through the eyes of a visitor. That’s exactly what Peter DeHaan does as he shares an insider’s perspective on dozens of churches.
What can we learn from the churches that line our cities and small towns, even if we never step foot inside?
Christian churches around the world are immensely varied in their size, interpretation of the Bible, and worship style, but there is one thing that unites them all: their belief in Jesus.
In More Than 52 Churches, the sequel to 52 Churches, you’ll team up with Peter DeHaan as he travels to another twenty-four Christian congregations to observe, learn, and grow. Although this book is a sequel, it can be read as a standalone. As each church experience unfolds, you’ll discover greater diversity and new insights from a wide range of worship services and personal encounters with other believers.
In More Than 52 Churches, you’ll discover:
- How to celebrate the amazing diversity of the local church and her worship styles
- Different ways that church visitors experience your church and why that’s important
- How churches effectively minister to their congregations
- The vital importance of church fellowship and personal connection
- Insights to help you better connect with visitors
Ideal for members or church leaders, you’ll get a unique perspective and broader understanding of church denominations, sizes, and worship styles. The book will help believers understand that a one-size-fits-all congregation will never adequately represent all churches. Instead, every church should embrace their strengths and identify their weaknesses so that they can better serve the world around them.
With insightful commentary and a unique perspective into church communities, you’ll catch a greater vision for how we can appreciate every kind of church, even when it doesn’t look like the church we call home.
You might even discover how you can make your church an even better one—just by experiencing it as a visitor does.
Get More Than 52 Churches and discover how you can reimagine your church today.
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Seitenzahl: 191
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020
VISITING CHURCHES SERIES
BOOK 3
MoreThan 52 Churches: TheJourneyContinues
Copyright © 2020 by PeterDeHaan
VisitingChurchesSeries book 3
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, disseminated, or transmitted in any form, by any means, or for any purpose without the express written consent of the author or his legal representatives. The only exception is short excerpts and the cover image for reviews or academic research. For permissions: PeterDeHaan.com/contact.
Unless otherwise noted, Scriptures taken from the HolyBible, NewInternationalVersion®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.comThe “NIV” and “NewInternationalVersion” are trademarks registered in the UnitedStatesPatent and TrademarkOffice by Biblica, Inc.™
Library of CongressControlNumber: 2021914753
Published by RockRoosterBooks, GrandRapids, Michigan
ISBNs:
978-1-948082-29-7 (e-book)978-1-948082-30-3 (paperback)978-1-948082-31-0 (hardcover)Credits:
Developmental editor: CathyRueterCopy editor/proofreader: RobynMulderCover design: TarynNergaardAuthor photo: ChelsieJensenPhotographyToKelliDeHaan
Series by PeterDeHaan
VisitingChurchesSeries takes an in-person look at church practices and traditions to inform and inspire today’s followers of Jesus.
40-DayBibleStudySeriestakes a fresh and practical look into Scripture, book by book.
BibleCharacterSketchesSeriescelebrates people in Scripture, from the well-known to the obscure.
HolidayCelebrationBibleStudySeriesrejoices in the holidays with Jesus.
Be the first to hear about Peter’s new books and receive updates at PeterDeHaan.com/updates.
Wasn’t 52 Churches Enough?
Church #53: Home for Easter Sunday
More Opportunities
Church #54: Emergent Maybe
Church #55: New and Small
Church #56: The Reboot
Church #57: Another New Church
Church #58: Not So Friendly
Church #59: Big, Yet Compelling
Church #60: A Missed Opportunity
Church #61: The Wrong Time to Visit
Church #62: Off to a Great Start
Church #63: We Don’t Need No Sermon
Church #64: Is Bigger Always Better?
Church #65: Short of Meeting Expectations
Church #66: Gifts of the Spirit
Church #66, Part 2: A Normal Service
Church #67: Satellite Church
Church #68: Urban on a Mission
Other Considerations
Church #69: Suffering from a Bad Rap
Church #70: Unplanned and Spontaneous
Church #71: A Messianic Jewish Congregation
Church #72: Respected and Esteemed
Church #73: A Debatable Destination
Church #74: An Intriguing Mystery
Church #75: Fatigue and Fear Set In
Our Home Church
How to Be an Engaging Church
How to Go to Church
What Book Do You Want to Read Next?
For Small Groups, Sunday School, and Classes
About Peter DeHaan
Books by Peter DeHaan
For52 Churches, my wife and I spent one year visiting a different Christian church every Sunday. It was an amazing journey that allowed us to experience the vast scope of Jesus’s church. The experience expanded our faith as we celebrated God in various local branches of his church. Yes, the worship practices varied and theology diverged, but the God behind these churches stood constant. It was good. So good.
We wrapped up the year in awe of God, appreciative of the diversity of his church, and grateful for the impact of the people we met along the way. We also felt relief (though mixed with a degree of sadness) as our journey concluded, and we celebrated a return to our home church on Easter.
In truth, visiting different churches week after week was exhausting. It wore us down. Even though our journey started as a fun adventure, toward the end it took more effort to walk into an unfamiliar church each Sunday with open eyes and fresh enthusiasm. Yes, we learned so much and met so many amazing people, both leaders and laity, but it was good to reclaim the regular routine of going to our home church every Sunday.
Still, I knew the journey wasn’t over. We had more to do.
Yes, the fifty-two churches we visited were a diverse group. But by design, they were all within ten miles of our house. Expanding our journey will unveil greater diversity, new insights, and more to celebrate. Therefore, we’ll look for more churches to visit, but we can’t—we won’t—do this every Sunday.
Instead, we’ll plan our visits sporadically, as our schedule allows, while maintaining a firm connection with our home church. This time, however, instead of methodically selecting churches based on their distance from our house, we’ll strategically choose them to realize the greatest range of experiences. This will maximize the scope of our journey and magnify our lessons.
But first, I’d like to share a couple of personal notes. AsI mentioned in 52 Churches, I’m an introvert—as is slightly more than half the population. Navigating new social settings challenges me. This includes visiting churches. Even though I never got past my apprehension of walking into a new church each Sunday, it did become easier as the year progressed, since visiting churches became our new Sunday norm.
This time, I expect visiting to not be as easy. Since these church visits will unfold at irregular intervals, my Sunday norm will be going to our home church. Visiting a church will be an anomaly. Therefore, despite having done so over fifty times, I anticipate walking into these churches to be more difficult, not less. I’ll simply be out of practice and will encounter more—not less—emotionally laden moments.
Also, I want to affirm Candy, my wife and accomplice, for these visits. I couldn’t have asked for more. Having her at my side for each of the first fifty-two churches made a huge difference. Throughout, she was a perfect partner on our journey. Each week she would contact the church we planned to visit, verifying key details. And each week she went without complaint, offering her full support to me and our adventure. This became our normal Sunday practice for a whole year, and her support was essential. This time, however, lacking a specific plan and schedule, we’ll need to discuss where we’re going and when. I anticipate some give-and-take that each marriage—each partnership of two people—encounters from time to time. Nonetheless, I know her support will shine just as brightly this time as last.
Having covered this, now I’m ready to start, but before we resume our church visitations, let’s revisit our return to our home church, Church #53. We’ll start with a condensed version of what I shared in 52 Churches.
Our journey of visiting fifty-two churches in a year is over. I’m sad and excited at the same time. Our reunion with our home church community looms large.
It’sEaster, and we’re returning to the people we love and have missed. I expect a joyful homecoming and a grand celebration: personally, corporately, and spiritually.
We arrive early to meet our kids. While our daughter and her husband attend this church, our son and his wife make an hour drive to spend Easter with us, beginning our day together at church.
I hope for a discreet return, but friends spot me right away. They’re glad to see me but not sure if we’re back for good. I confirm our adventure wasn’t to find a new church. They’re relieved.
Our reunion blocks the flow of people, so I excuse myself to find my family. Even arriving early, there aren’t many places left for six, but they did find a spot. I sit down and soak in the ambiance.
There’s nothing special about the building, except its age. Located in the heart of the downtown area, the sanctuary is over 150 years old, far from contemporary. Even with many enhancements, a dated feel pervades.
To start the service, our pastor welcomes everyone, telling visitors what the regulars already know: there’s no plan for the service today, only a general intent. Its length is unknown, so it will end when it ends. He reiterates that we have freedom in worship: We may sit, or stand, or kneel. We may dance or move about—or not. As is our practice, children remain with their parents during the service, worshiping along with the adults, but often in their own way. There will also be an open adult baptism later in the service. With the place packed, he asks the congregation to slide toward the center of the seating to make room on the ends for those still needing seats.
The worship team starts the service with a prayer and then kicks off the first song. The energy level is high. After thirty minutes or more of singing we hear a brief message. The church is in a yearlong series—I’ve kept up by listening online and apprised Candy on key announcements and teachings. Today, the lesson is about Abraham and Sarah, her scheme for her husband to produce a child through her servant, and his boneheaded acceptance of her misguided plan. Our pastor ties this in with Easter: We all make mistakes, and we all need Jesus, who offers forgiveness and provides restoration.
Next is baptism. Our pastor shares the basics of the tradition. The rite is the NewTestament replacement for OldTestament circumcision, which he addressed in the message. Baptism symbolizes the washing away of our sins, a ceremonial cleansing, which publicly identifies us with Jesus. Other creeds say baptism (by immersion) portrays the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. Can’t it be both?
People desiring baptism may come forward as the worship team leads the congregation in more songs. Even before hearing the full invitation, one person walks forward and then another. A line forms.
For many churches, baptism is a somber affair, conducted with reserved formality. Not so for us. We treat it as a celebration with unabashed enthusiasm.
Our church leader prefers baptism by immersion, but the floor of this 150-year-old building lacks the structural integrity to support the weight of a baptismal pool. Instead, we use a traditional baptismal font, with the goal to get as much water on the recipient as possible.
After an elder douses the first person with water, a raucous celebration erupts from the crowd. We cheer this woman’s public proclamation of faith. We baptize a dozen this morning, with more that will happen at the next service. What a glorious Easter.
With the baptisms complete, we resume singing. After a couple more songs, the worship leader concludes the service and the crowd slowly disperses. We eventually make our way out after ninety minutes. Some have already arrived for the next service, which starts in half an hour.
Today is an amazing reunion, a grand celebration, and a fitting conclusion to our yearlong pilgrimage.
Takeaway for Everyone: Is your church service a celebration or a stoic gathering?
With hundreds of churches nearby within acceptable driving distance, which ones will we select? We start by listing churches that we wanted to visit for the 52 Churchesproject, but couldn’t because they fell outside our 10-mile criteria. Now we can check them out. Next, we look for other churches that will give us greater variety: big churches and small, new churches and different faith expressions. We’re willing to drive greater distances to explore greater variations in Jesus’s church.
Armed with an initial list, we look for an opening in our schedule to resume our exploration of area churches. We don’t need to wait long.
Someone once quipped, “There are more books about emergent churches than there are emergent churches.” That seems like hyperbole, but my experience confirms it. I’ve read several books about emergent churches, but I’ve never actually been to one. Tonight’s experience may change that, but I’m not sure.
My wife, Candy, and I have an opening in our normal Sunday evening plans. This is an opportunity to visit a site plant of our home church (Church #53, “Home for EasterSunday”). They meet at 5:30 for a community meal and then have a service afterward—more or less.
For the past couple of weeks, we’ve discussed going. I’m in favor of it, but my bride is reluctant. It’s not that she fears adventure, but she fears the neighborhood. I offer the suggestion, but I don’t push it, hoping she’ll agree to go, without me having to talk her into it.
Sunday morning, I’m still waiting. The decision happens as Candy talks with one of the site plant leaders. He’s a friend and fellow writer. We hang out a couple times a month.
His plans for tonight are to share a meal, offer a brief teaching, and then go for a prayer walk in the neighborhood. I’m sure his intent to wander the streets surrounding the church building will discourage Candy from going. It’s one thing to drive to a semi-safe area and scurry inside a building, but it’s another to traipse around the neighborhood. (In all honesty, I’m apprehensive of the semi-safe prayer walk, too, but I’m willing to push through.) His words don’t offer the assurance Candy seeks, but she asks what food to bring.
As visitors, they’d forgive us if we showed up empty-handed, but during our year of visiting fifty-two churches, we did our share of mooching, and I don’t want to do so again. Vegetables, we learn, are typically lacking at their weekly potluck, so on our way home from the morning service, we stop by the store to pick up our contribution for the evening meal.
The building is familiar to us. It’s the one our church first used until outgrowing the facility and moving. At first, a contingent of people remained, but our church leaders did poorly at managing multiple locations and eventually shut the site down. Now—wiser, better equipped, and armed with a new plan—a cadre has returned, intent on serving this underserved neighborhood: the area’s poorest and least safe, crime-ridden and void of hope.
After a minor detour, because I made a wrong turn, we arrive right at 5:30. My all-too-familiar anxiety about confronting the unknown rumbles in my gut. My pulse quickens as we pull into the small, but mostly filled, parking lot. I want to make a U-turn and race home, but the likelihood of my wife laughing at my panic steels my resolve enough to park our car. Another family exits their minivan, with kids in tow and food in hand. Feeling a bit assured, we follow them through the back door that leads directly to the lower level.
With only a handful of people present, there’s even less food, mostly desserts. Round tables fill the basement. The one nearest us holds the food while one further away accommodates some people awaiting the meal. Between the two is a room of empty spaces, except for a solitary woman sitting at her own table. Pleasant-looking and approachable, my instincts are to talk to her, while mindful that she could misunderstand my efforts or feel uncomfortable. IfI can get Candy’s attention, we can go together, but she’s at the food table, talking with someone who just emerged from the kitchen. To my relief, someone eventually joins the woman so she’s no longer alone.
I scan the room, expecting to see friends who are part of this adventure, but I don’t see them. From upstairs come sounds of the worship team practicing. Surely, some of my friends are there. AlthoughI see a few familiar faces, I don’t recall any names. WhileI survey the situation, one of the familiar faces comes up to talk. We have a friendly, yet awkward, exchange that lasts too long.
A small white dog meanders over to welcome me. I squat, offering my hand for him to smell. All he does is sniff and tremble. He doesn’t withdraw, yet he’s not advancing for me to pet him either. He’s apprehensive and has found a kindred soul in me. I later learn his name is Beau, nicknamed Bobo. He serves as the church’s unofficial mascot, esteemed by all, and cared for by many. He belongs to our friends: the site pastor and his wife. They welcomed Beau into their home and later adopted him. This is poetic preparation, for they will soon welcome a foster child into their home with the intent to adopt him too.
Eventually, the site pastor descends the stairs. Dismayed with the low turnout, he concedes we should not wait any longer for more to arrive. We gather in a circle and hold hands while he prays. He reminds us that sharing a meal is communion. As we eat and drink together, we do so to remember Jesus. With the Amen said, people surge toward the food table.
We’ve now grown in number to about thirty, yet the food hasn’t kept pace, and it’s still half desserts. Some people bought prepared food at the store, others share leftovers, and one person made some stew. It smells tasty but is gone before I get to it. I hold back, as do a few others. Some people may depend on this for their evening meal. IfI don’t have enough to eat, there’s more awaiting me at home. Others may not have that luxury.
Candy and I sit at a nearby table with our food, and others join us. We get to know them, making connections as we eat. As a bonus, today is the birthday of one of our leaders. We sing to her and share cake.
My focus is more on the fellowship than the food. ButI reckon they cut both short when they urge us upstairs. As we do, more friends show up. With four young children, it’s too much work to get their brood’s tiny mouths all fed before the worship time starts, so they eat at home and show up a bit later.
The sanctuary is different from the last time we were here some five years ago. The antiquated pews are gone, replaced with comfortable, padded chairs. The ambiance of the coffee house next to the sanctuary is gone with its accessories stripped away to provide only the most basic options. In the back, areas are set up for kids to play, with plenty of open floor space for physical worship. The overhead lights remain off, with mood lighting taking their place. The result is a peaceful, subdued setting.
There’s a short teaching, though our leader misses his goal of keeping it under ten minutes. He references Exodus 14:19–22, speaking about slavery, drawing present-day parallels for us to contemplate. He wraps up about fifteen minutes later. With the planned prayer walk canceled due to a light rain, a time of worship starts, now an hour into the evening.
A few of the people from the meal are missing, but several more have arrived, swelling our group to over forty. Candy and I are at the upper end of the age spectrum. Most are in their mid-twenties and thirties, with a good number of children present.
The other site leader—the birthday girl—sits at the keyboard and leads us in song. A skillful and spirit-filled leader, she moves us forward with music. For some people the songs are the focus, while for others the sounds become reverent background music. Candy soon wearies of the repetition, repetition, repetition of the choruses. For me it’s not the words that matter but the atmosphere: a worship space where we encounter God in multiple ways, according to each person’s preference. Some people stand as they feel led, raising their arms, swaying, and reverently dancing. Others sit, bow, or kneel.
Some kids wave worship flags, praising God through solemn movement. A few adults join them. Other kids play quiet games, build with foam blocks, or create art on a wall-sized chalkboard. A couple of women dance in the back with graceful movement. I want to watch, worshiping God through the beauty of their motions, but I fear that in doing so I may intrude on a private moment between them and the Almighty.
The teaching pastor stands again, signaling his wife to pause her playing. He offers a bit of encouragement and instruction. We sing a final song, and he dismisses us with a traditional benediction.
The planned service is over, but no one leaves. Everyone tarries. We chat with several friends, offering prayers and blessings as needed. We say our goodbyes to the new friends we’ve made, thanking them for the opportunity to get to know them and wishing them well.
Many people attempt to leave, but they’re unsuccessful. There are simply too many conversations to have. Among the first to exit, we leave at 8:00 p.m., two and a half hours after we arrived. The time passed quickly for me, as it does when I’m in the company of winsome Jesus followers. I relish the experience, suspecting this group is approaching a truer meaning of church than I’ve ever experienced on a Sunday morning.
Candy has a different assessment, saying that had she not already gone to church today, this would have left her wanting. This must be one reason why there are so many types of churches.
Regardless of our differing perspectives, I think we just had our first emergent church experience.
Takeaway for Leaders: Does your church do things differently to better meet the needs of the people you’re trying to reach? If not, what must change?
One of our goals in 52 Churches was to visit all ten churches located in our local school district. After52 Churches ended, that number increased to eleven. The primary marketing for this new church is yard signs, spread throughout the area, suggesting a different kind of church. We make a mental note to visit.
With another last-minute opening in our schedule, we have an opportunity to go there, but we can’t remember their name—and the yard signs are gone. After some extensive online searching—investing much more time than any typical visitor would do—I stumble upon their name and find their Facebook page, but I can’t locate a website.
TheirFacebook page contains recent updates, but they don’t mention service times or a schedule beyond their first two meetings several months ago. Now armed with their name, cyber sleuth Candy finds their website, which confirms their schedule and service time. They call themselves nondenominational, but their website describes a church that fits snugly within the evangelical stream of Christianity.
As an aside, I