October 2026
I found myself returning to my Black home church today, after spending much of my adult life searching for another. I had ventured out into the world and visited different congregations. I suppose there comes a time when you begin to question the places that raised you. Many of the newer churches I visited were quite impressive. Yet I found myself increasingly aware of a casualness in the way worship was approached. There seemed to be considerable effort given to making the church feel comfortable and familiar. I could walk into the sanctuary with a cup of coffee and settle in as though I had come to hear a talk.
It was an ease I wasn’t accustomed to bringing into worship. I had grown up with a certain consciousness of entering the house of God, an understanding that the sanctuary was sacred and that being in His presence called for a particular reverence.
I wonder whether our expectations of church have gradually been influenced by the way we approach everything else in modern life. We have become accustomed to seeking places that suit our preferences, and religious institutions have responded to those expectations.
I understand the desire to make people feel welcome, especially those who have felt excluded from traditional churches.
But I wonder whether we’ve given enough thought to the casualness we are inviting along with that comfort. I could walk in and settle into the service without ever becoming particularly conscious of where I was. And perhaps that is what has troubled me. I’m wondering how we’ve become so comfortable there that we scarcely pause to consider whose presence we have come into.
