For me, it happened many times. November. A rainy and chilly day, wind blowing the sodden leaves through the cemetery, a small group of family and friends gathered around a fresh grave, a few flower arrangements looking very out of place on such a day. And, the casket. A blue, metal casket, offering the only bit of color, other than the out of place flowers. In this case, not even a tent. No chairs for the family to sit in. The cemetery scene is always sad, but this one even more so. The deceased was not part of the church I pastored, but one of the parents of a high school friend. I was doing the service as a favor. It was painful to see someone I had grown up with in such personal pain.

         Yes, it had happened before, but this was different in one detail. One of the children of the deceased belonged to a mega-church. A serious mega-church. Over 10,000 in attendance every Sunday. A complete department dedicated to the music of the church. The music leaders and instrumentalist were all paid living wages. The sound people and video people were all professionals, all paid well. Those who worked with the Youth age all had degrees and were paid accordingly. A pastoral staff with, in that case, ten associate pastors. The senior pastor had to have the ten associates because he was busy writing sermons and books and giving interviews. As the choir would sing there would be a light show in the background timed to accentuate the rising and falling tones of the music. A place where love and compassion was preached and practiced.

         So, why was this relatively small group of people huddled in a cold cemetery on that dreary November morning? Why was the minister someone who was, essentially, borrowed from a local church? Why were we all standing in mud rather than the rich carpet of the mega-church sanctuary?

         Well, everything at the church was professional. To prepare for Sunday services the technicians and music people and sound people and everyone involved had to be at work in that great sanctuary throughout the week. The only funerals or weddings ever done in that sanctuary were for important people. The founders of the church, the wealthiest members, family of staff. An aged parent of someone who was just a member hardly qualified. None of the pastoral staff could take time from their overflowing schedules to conduct a funeral of an aged parent of someone who was just a member of the church. The senior pastor was away somewhere doing something of great importance for the Lord and he would not have done the service anyway. Besides, it was cold and wet and miserable in Northeast Ohio. Surely you wouldn’t expect…..?

         Surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly), my friend still goes to that church. Where else can one go and be entertained with music and a show and a witty speaker and walk away with a smile on your face, week after week? My friend rarely misses. It is awesome! The Lord is blessing His people!!!

         Or, is He?

         The Biblical era model for church was a house church. Typically, a church would be started with just a few and would meet in a house. When it grew to around twenty or so folks, it would split (without argument) and the new church would begin to meet in another home. Both church A and church B would now have around ten people. When they each got around twenty or so, they would split. This would continue on, each church splitting over and over, but none getting very large. In 1 Thessalonians 1:1, Paul writes these words, Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, To the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ: Grace to you and peace. Paul is not writing to a single church as we think of a church. He is writing to the full body of Believers with in a single city, which is the concept of the New Testament church. The body of Believers in any town or city is the church of that town or city. They didn’t meet together, but they were one. The only large, single ‘churches’ in the Bible era were the pagan temples and the Jewish synagogues. Under the new Christian system, the church of Believers grew at an astronomical rate. The mega-church of today may have had great growth, but is that from Jehovah God?

         Consider this; in a mega-church, you simply go to church. You are entertained. But you rarely have anything to actually do. No way to serve the Lord through the church. They have staff for all of that. If you want to join the 150 voice choir you have to have a series of tryouts before ever more important music personnel before you are told we will get back to you when we have a need. Anything you might want to do to help out will require extensive interviews and background checks and, finally, why bother? Just enjoy that Sunday service. It is the price you pay for excellence. But you don’t grow, you are entertained. You don’t grow, you are made comfortable. You don’t grow, you are told your service is in giving money. I have no doubt whatsoever that if my friend was in one of our services, that afterward I would receive a condescending smile and be told it was all very nice. And as my friend climbed into the car the thought would rattle around in my friend’s head, “Boy, did Larry ever waste his life!”

         But Larry is fine and hasn’t wasted a moment. Consider this past Sunday. Larry got to see several people step out of their comfort zones and do things that they either do rarely or have never done. During the choir, during the Advent candle lighting, during the Youth praise song, people who never, ever saw their own selves singing a solo or duet or in a group or speaking in front of a group were now doing those things. All of them nervous to some degree. Sweaty palms. Accelerated hearts. But, reading Scripture, singing for the glory of the Lord, offering a prayer. I have been in some mega-church situations. I have never been impressed. But I was impressed on Sunday. Just blown away. I go around before church to talk to as many as I can and no one treats me like I am something special, like they would if they met that mega-church pastor. No, I am treated like a friend. But, then, the icing on the cake from Sunday. In the mega-church, when the service ends you cannot get near the senior pastor. He is hustled out. But at Urbana Yoke Parish this last Sunday, as I walked through the crowd, Vi Miller caught me and thanked me for suggesting to the congregation to read a chapter of Luke every day of December, 24 chapters. Then, on Christmas morning you can reflect on the entire life of Jesus, rather than just the birth. Vi said she had read Luke many times, but this time it seemed different. She was pleased with her readings! That is an incredible thing.

         The funeral was over in that wind swept cemetery on that cold, November day. I shook hands all around and gave my childhood friend a hug. I walked over to my little car and got in and headed back to my church. I still had a counseling session and there was special Christmas choir practice that evening. My friend headed home and then, on Sunday, headed to that huge church that could not be bothered with the likes of my friend in time of need. My friend probably appreciated my help that day, but also probably felt a little sorry for me that I never hit it big.

         But I have hit it big. This past Sunday was big. And you have hit it big, too. You have the opportunity to serve the Lord with gladness and come into His presence with singing!

         Blessings to you and may you enjoy the glory of Christmas.