Attending church can sometimes feel like a challenge to recall your purpose for being there. Often, you must navigate through the haze of routine, well-meaning intentions, subtle manipulation, and predictability that can characterize the church experience. Most of the time, when I am at church, I feel like I am at a daycare for adults or back at high school.

How does the church look to you?

First, you show up to be greeted with a smile and a casual "hello, how are you," as people try to convey sincerity with their words. However, it's best not to answer truthfully about your feelings, as often they lack the time or genuine interest to hear your response. I'm not suggesting that people must be deeply involved in my life, but when insincerity is widespread, it can create a noticeably artificial atmosphere.

Next, it's time to find your seat. There's a noticeable dynamic at play: those striving to appear highly devout often vie for seats near the front. Towards the rear, you find those aiming for a swift exit with minimal notice, seeking invisibility. In between, various cliques form: some stick with their family and friends, while others have a noticeable gap around them, deterring others from sitting close by for reasons unknown. This situation brings back memories of high school, where the nerds claimed the front seats, the quiet, unpopular underachievers occupied the back rows, and the rest sat in the middle seats comfortably with their friends.

Once everyone has found a seat, the worship begins. Simultaneously, what seems like daycare starts, ushering in a structured sequence of instructions on when to sit, stand, clap, and do the hokey pokey. Then comes the directive to greet one another and attempt to forge new friendships.

I find the worship experience intriguing due to the diverse array of reactions it elicits. Some appear disengaged as if listening to music they'd never choose to hear, their demeanor stiff and reminiscent of a funeral. Conversely, there are those enthusiastically waving their hands, singing louder than the worship leader, eager to be noticed. Amidst them, an awkward individual seems hesitant, perhaps trying to summon the courage to raise their hands, believing it will evoke a spiritual connection, or just insecure that they don't.

Following the worship session, a representative from the church launches into a series of announcements. These vary from self-congratulatory remarks—manipulative appeals aimed at encouraging congregants to volunteer for service and specific events for congregants to attend to foster a sense of community. However, the delivery often resembles commercials - the kind you tune out when they interrupt your favorite show. At this point, many individuals begin to disengage entirely. You can observe minds wandering, thoughts drifting to topics like who might be winning the game.

After the worship, the sermon is delivered—but by this point, many in the congregation seem disconnected. Few bring a Bible, relying instead on the church's projection screen or their phones to access scripture, often multitasking by checking messages or browsing the news. While the message could be impactful, most only absorb fragments, and by the time they leave the parking lot, it's faded into the background, overshadowed by thoughts of lunch - perhaps tacos at a beloved Mexican eatery while catching up on the game.

My description may seem a little tongue-in-cheek at parts, but it is how I mostly see the church. I do understand people may react to my perspective with indifference, anger, or confusion. You have people who love the church because it is a non-threatening place where they feel a warm social community. Some attend church out of habit, following the routine year after year, simply showing up because it's what they've always done. I worry about those who attend church and genuinely believe it's marvelous, as it seems they might be seeing it from a superficial lens. While I understand that this could stem from their young faith, I'm skeptical that growth can occur in churches like today.

We can't disregard the outcomes of the church's influence. It has bred immature Christians, self-centered and compromised individuals who only engage with their faith part-time, seemingly unaware of their true calling.

I get that the church might want to blame only the congregants if they even admit the truth. But both sides have a part to play. The church should have been courageous and bold, assuring the congregation understood their genuine spiritual state. After all, that's the essence of their leadership role within the church: to be ahead of the congregants, thus enabling them to facilitate growth among the congregation. The church leadership needed to be unwavering in their faith, deeply connected in their relationship with Jesus, and completely dependent on and surrendered to Christ.

Nothing else should have mattered. Neither the church attendance, finances, the congregation's happiness, and the building itself, only Jesus has to matter. I understand that those are aspects of the church but we have to do the work God called us to do, faith and obedience and believe that God can still build His Church.

Ultimately, do you want to build a church that you must sustain on your own, or let God build His church while you serve humbly as His faithful servant?