Walking Back Into Church

You were welcomed into God's presence before you ever reached the door

The engine is off, but the key is still in the ignition. Through the windshield he watches people cross the parking lot in the last of the daylight, a couple holding hands, a dad steering two kids by the shoulders, an older woman who stops to hug somebody by the doors. He opens his car door, closes it again, and realizes he's done that three times now without ever putting a foot on the pavement.

It's been a while. Maybe two years, maybe longer. There was a divorce, or a season of drinking, or a falling out with somebody on staff, or nothing dramatic at all, just one missed Sunday that turned into fifty. Whatever it was, sitting in that car he can hear the questions he's afraid of. Where've you been? We've missed you. Is everything okay? They're kind words, and every one of them feels like a spotlight swinging around to find him in the back row.

If that's you, there's nothing strange about you, and you're not the only one in that parking lot.

"Not Forsaking the Assembling"

Most of us who grew up in church learned a verse about this, and we usually heard it with a raised eyebrow:

And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching. (Hebrews 10:24-25)

I said it this way when we preached through Hebrews: this verse has become sort of a threat, hasn't it? You'd better go to church. Read that way, the man in the car is in trouble before he ever opens the door. He forsook the assembling. He's one of "the manner of some."

But that sentence doesn't start at verse 24. Back up three verses and see what the writer says first:

Therefore, brethren, having boldness to enter the Holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way which He consecrated for us, through the veil, that is, His flesh, and having a High Priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith... (Hebrews 10:19-22)

Before he says a word about gathering, he opens the door to the Holiest Place, the room where only the high priest could go, once a year, carrying blood that wasn't his own. Boldness. Full assurance. A way Jesus made with His own flesh. The invitation into God's presence comes first, and it stands open before the writer ever turns to the church.

What the Gathering Is For

Then look at what the assembling is for. Consider one another. Stir up love. Exhort, which means to call alongside and encourage. In the Greek the word for assembling carries the idea of a collection, believers gathered around one conversation about who Jesus is.

That's why it matters. We forget. Life gets loud, and we need people around us who'll say, Hey, don't forget, God is fully in you, and He's with you. I've heard people tell me it's one thing to watch online, and thank God we have that, but there's something about being face to face. That's where the reminding happens.

I have a mechanical engineering degree, and I'm still terrible at putting furniture together. I'd skip pieces along the way, and we'd end up buying new ones. I told our church once that the gospel doesn't work that way. You're one of the pieces. The body of Christ operating as one includes the man in the parked car, and the room is missing something when he isn't in it.

So the verse isn't taking roll. It's describing a table set for people who need to be reminded what Jesus did, and that includes the man who's been gone two years.

I'll be honest about one more thing. The church you go back to matters. If a church contradicts the gospel, if it hands you rules instead of Jesus, you're free to look for one that gets the gospel right. Coming back to God's people doesn't mean coming back to whatever hurt you.

Received the Way You Were Received

Paul gives the church one instruction that changes the walk across that parking lot:

Therefore receive one another, just as Christ also received us, to the glory of God. (Romans 15:7)

Paul wrote that to a church in Rome where Jewish and Gentile believers were struggling to make room for each other, arguing over food and holy days and who belonged. His answer to all of it was one standard for welcome, and it wasn't theirs.

How did Christ receive us? While we were still sinners (Romans 5:8). Before the explanation, before the cleanup, before we could answer where we'd been. That's the welcome you're walking into, and Jesus secured it at the cross long before you pulled into this parking lot.

The first Sunday back may still feel awkward. Somebody might ask where you've been, and your answer might come out clumsy. You might sit near the back and leave during the last song. That's all right. You don't have to walk in with a speech. You can walk in as someone Jesus has received, with nothing to prove to the people holding the doors.

He pulls the key out of the ignition, opens the car door, and this time he stands up. The lobby lights are on, and somebody by the doors is holding one of them open for him.