If you’ve hung around church very long, you probably have a lover’s quarrel with the church. Her flaws and imperfections are in plain sight. But the blessings and life-changing experiences are real, too. Some people claim “burn out” as excuse to stay away from church. You know the old joke—“When I was a kid, I had a drug problem. Every Sunday my parents drug me to church.”

 

It’s also become quite fashionable to say the church is an outdated form of religion. You’ve heard the latest: “I want spirituality without religion, without organized, institutional church.” But really, how do you love Jesus and not love the only visible expression of his body, the church? (I guess that’s a topic for another sermon). Some folks see the church as a HOBBY, others as a HEADACHE, still others as a HOSPITAL, HOTEL or HABIT. Do you see it as your HOME? Augustine said you can’t have God for father unless you also have the church for your mother.

 

Maybe the freshest, most contemporary word for us this morning is a very ancient word, from Psalm 84. The psalmist really believed in the church (the Temple, in his day). The church wasn’t just a concept, or a hobby, or a building. It was his home, the center of his life, the moral core of his being. And yes, he loves the building itself where he worships God (v. 1), but he never confuses the building with God (vv. 2-3, the LIVING GOD, MY God, MY King…). A personal relationship with God—God face to face—is what he loves about church. This is a good reminder: we don’t get right with God by coming to a building or putting our name on a membership roll. We experience God’s new life by opening our life to a personal relationship with God through his Son, Jesus.

 

WHEN THE CHURCH IS OUR HOME, WE HAVE STRENGTH FOR THE JOURNEY. Notice vv. 5-7. The writer is a pilgrim; he’s on a journey. The people of God would often travel on foot to the Temple for the high holy days of Jewish festivals. And they would sing songs as they walked. This psalmist is one who’s been to church, but it’s been a long time, and he’s hungry to get back. His soul is aching for God’s house. Those of us who are inconsistent in attendance, or who take coming to church for granted, should probably ponder how much a homebound person would love to come. Or a person recovering from surgery. Or what about believers is Myanmar or other places of religious persecution and repression?

 

These dear people who are kept from church learn what we may not know. When you are away from God’s people and their worship, God makes a highway right in your own heart (v. 5). Or, as Peterson translates it, we’re blessed when our lives become the roads God travels. Life is a journey. We haven’t arrived yet. That’s the whole assumption behind the call to grow as disciples. That’s why we all have to get serious about small group Bible study. Life isn’t just made up of Sunday mornings. It’s Monday through Saturday. Yes, we are the church gathered on Sundays, but we are the church scattered Monday through Saturday. What do we do in the dry places? How do we make between trips to this place of beauty and worship? Somehow, that taste of church keeps the writer going, through the dry, arid places. Baca (v. 6) was a place known for its lack of water. Somehow, the grace of God can make dry places spring with water. And when God’s grace springs up like that, we go “from strength to strength” (v. 7).

 

Is the church your home? WHEN THE CHURCH IS OUR HOME, EVERY PERSON AND EVERY TASK BECOME IMPORTANT.  I love the story about “Piccolo Pete”. It seems the local orchestra had practiced for two solid months, preparing for their big concert. On the night of the last rehearsal, the conductor called everyone’s attention to the fact that Pete, who played the piccolo, had not missed a single rehearsal. Pete sort of blushed, and said, “It’s the least I could do, since I can’t be here the night of the concert.”

 

I am fascinated with v. 10: “A day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness.” God calls all of us to play our piccolos. And when we are missing, the body of Christ is hurt and so are we. The church needs you engaged. We need everyone’s giftedness. And no job is small or insignificant. Here’s something interesting. We think the person writing this psalm was perhaps an usher at church, a doorkeeper. Notice the superscription above the psalm: “Of the Korahites”. We know from 1 Chronicles 9:19, 23 that they were in charge of the gates of God’s house. I have news for you. There are no insignificant jobs in God’s kingdom. We are all called to be engaged, to use our gifts, to find our places of service. It doesn’t have to be fancy; it just has to be what you enjoy, are passionate about and are called to.

 

In Pretoria, South Africa, there is a pastor who works as a bellman in a hotel. After work, he takes the leftover bread to his village and shares with the people. For most of them, it’s the only food they will have that day. That pastor is excited about his ministry opportunity. A doorkeeper in the house of the Lord. In one of my pastorates, there were two widows, each living in separate houses. Eva would call Minnie every morning at 9:00am, to visit, and to make sure she was OK. Minnie’s eyesight had gone, so every Thursday night, Eva would call Minnie and over the phone, read the Sunday school lesson off of the back page of the “Word and Way.” She was playing her piccolo. Doorkeepers in God’s house. Little jobs? I don’t think so.

 

I’m asking you to make the church your home, the center of your spiritual being. Don’t just come to the rehearsals; come to the concert. I’m challenging you to take the church of Jesus more seriously. Make a deeper commitment. Bring your heart and bring your passion to Christ’s church.