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I had a friend say to me yesterday, "I still believe in God I just can't stand the church. I think it is broken, evil, warped, etc." At least that is what he approximately said. If you're reading this you probably know the friend. (three hints: he's big, he spoiled, and he's a teddy bear 'most of the time')
Anyway, a serious of bad run ins with local churches had led him to be more than disenfranchised. He was angry. As we sat around a beautiful pick-nick table out in the sun Amy, our other friends, and I all took turns at tearing his comment apart.
Sure, everyone feels hurt by the Church from time to time. Nearly everyone has felt unnapreciated, been involved in a Church split, chewed out by a fellow church member, or wrongly judged. That is nothing new. If we refer to the Bible we see the same thing over and over again. The Apostle Paul is always counseling churches to get their acts together and love each other. He exhorts them to forget percieved slights and ignore intended wrongs. All in all, he challenges the Corinthians, Galatians, Romans, Thesselonians, and Ephesians (and more) to love each other as is the primary task of the church. To be sure, dislike or hurt towards the Church is an age old phenomenom, as old as the faith itself.
We responded with a variety of arguments about the church being the living body of Christ, perfect as a whole Catholic (universal) unit, but flawed as individuals, congregations, and denominations. This is true, but I think today there is more than even this argument in play.
This last week Keith Drury told us that he plans to walk the Pottawattamie "Trail of Death" from Twin Lakes near Plymouth to Kansas. When he told us this I proudly offered my History of Marshall County book to him for his research. As I offered it I told him proudly, "These are my people."
Later, as I thought about this statement I could not help but be moved a little bit. Truly, those are my people. From the Michigan state line down to the banks of the Wabash I know almost every road, river, stream, and field. I talk like those people, I look like those people, and although I don't always think like them I know them and love them. They are my people. Almost every member of my family lives there. The steelworkers, truck drivers, construction workers, politicians, and especially the farmers are mine. It was from them that I have come.
There is a profound pride that I carry in having this solid identitiy. There is an immeasurable beauty in knowing where you belong . It is a facet of life being lost in this age of global travel and high speed communication. Most people can no longer say proudly, "I am from ...". Most people today can no longer call some idyllic small town home. Most people do not have a place where they can run home to when the chips are down.
That, friends, is the truest and most beautiful reason for the church today. It gives us identity. It gives us family. It gives us a place to call home.

As our conversation wound down someone concluded that "it is a place to be the home of your faith." This is true, but it is also so much more.

St. Patrick often referred to his call to minister to the Irish people as his "exile for Christ". Since my call I have felt much the same way. I am currently in exile from my homeland. I visit only occassionaly. And although I am near it and seperated by only a little more than an hour my grieving somedays is deep as I long for the plainview of home. I still miss the bawling cattle the fields of wheat and the shades of green fields and trees. (Central Indiana has a lot fewer trees.)
But in the midst of it all I can still call the Church home. They too are my people. Although I will always call Norther Indiana home, the Church helps to fill the gap. True its far from perfect when you take it in small chunks like individuals or congregations, but as a whole the Church of Christ makes a more than adequate home.