Why and How to Go to Church

The Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius began his remarkable book Meditations with a reflection on all the people who had shaped him: his teachers, his adopted father, his mother, his grandparents. He recalled the lessons they had taught him—lessons that continued to guide him. That was Book 1.

In Book 2, he turned to a different subject: how to deal with difficult people. He argued that we should show patience and kindness toward them. Why? Because human beings are made for cooperation—like hands, feet, upper and lower teeth, and eyelids. When we live in an uncooperative way, we live contrary to nature. When we resent others or withdraw from them, we contradict what we are.

Marcus presses this even further. If another person refuses to live cooperatively, he says, that person harms himself more than he harms us. We must not allow someone else’s failure to live according to nature to pull us away from living according to it ourselves. That is why we should maintain a gentle spirit, ready to forgive and ready to be reconciled. We are made for one another. Others may frustrate that design, but we must not abandon it.

Why begin a talk about church with a non-Christian Roman Emperor? Because Marcus grasped something we do not—what a human being is. A human being is a social creature—made for fellowship, made for cooperation. We are not designed for isolation.

Everything we accomplish and everything we become comes through others—even if those others lived 1800 years ago and reach us only through a book. None of the comforts or technologies we enjoy exist without the cooperation of millions of people. Try building your iPhone from scratch, including mining and refining the materials. The idea is absurd. Yet we often imagine we can construct our lives independently.

Like Marcus, we are who we are because others have invested in us. And we will grow into better versions of ourselves only through continued interaction with others.

I have watched people attempt isolated lives. They stagnate. They do not mature. Growth happens in engagement. Alone, we reinforce our assumptions. In community, we are sharpened. Our immaturity is exposed. We are compelled to grow into what God intends us to be. The church is the community designed for that growth.

Why Church as the Community?
Why would we say that church is one of those communities we should be a part of? There are at least three reasons.

First, you are a Christian (if you are!). You desire to follow Jesus and worship the Triune God. There is no other setting where you will regularly find a diverse group of people gathered around that shared purpose and committed to helping one another grow in it. You need that community.

Consider 1 Samuel 23. David was hunted by Saul and uncertain whether he would survive from one day to the next. In that dark season, Jonathan came to him and reminded him of God’s promise that he would be king. The text says Jonathan helped him find strength in God. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote in Life Together, the word of God in the mouth of a brother is often stronger than the word of God in our heart.

Second, you have something to give. Sometimes you are David. Sometimes you are Jonathan. You may carry the word that lifts a discouraged brother. If you withhold it, he may continue walking in despair. That is why Scripture says, “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another and all the more as you see the Day approaching” (Heb. 10:24–25). You are needed. Your presence is not incidental. Your encouragement may be the very means God uses to strengthen someone else.

Third, there is a simpler, less overtly spiritual reason: there are not many places left in modern America that offer real, intergenerational community. Few spaces gather families, singles, children, young adults, and older believers together on a regular basis around shared commitments. If you want a durable, embodied community rather than a digital substitute, church remains one of the last places where that is still possible.

College gives many people a taste of thick community. You live in close proximity to friends and share repeated rhythms—meals, classes, conversations, experiences. Graduation can be jarring because that density evaporates. Church is one of the few places where weekly, repeated contact with the same people is built into the structure of life. That is not accidental. It is a gift. Use it.

What Church to Choose
The variety of options can feel overwhelming. Let me offer several guiding principles.

First, look for a church that holds firmly to the central truths of the Gospel and affirms the Bible as the Word of God. A faithful Protestant church is a wise starting point.

What about non-fundamental issues—Calvinism or Arminianism, views of the end times, baptism, speaking in tongues, church offices?

Here, you must exercise discernment. Some of these questions will matter more to you than others. Consider what is available and what you can realistically live with. If there is only one evangelical church in town, that may settle the matter. If there are several, you have room to weigh differences carefully.

During a season in the middle of my pastoral career, I had the rare opportunity simply to attend church. I deeply admired one large congregation in town. The pastor is a prince of a man. Yet I sensed that their repeated emphasis on “saying the prayer” and “walking the aisle” would eventually grate on me. I chose instead a church with a more covenantal approach to children and located a mile from my home, where I could be more fully involved. I wanted to preserve warm fellowship with those brothers in the other church while recognizing our different emphases. Choosing a church where you can participate wholeheartedly is wiser than remaining in one where you quietly feel misaligned.

Above all, look for a church where the Father is glorified, Jesus Christ is honored, and reliance on the Holy Spirit is evident. Look for love. Look for genuine concern for outsiders. Do not expect perfection, but do expect vitality. Orthodoxy must not be a dead letter. It should be alive.

Size Is Important: Small, Medium, and Large Churches
The size of a church will significantly shape your experience.

If you attend a small church, do not expect a large, highly organized young adult program. It likely will not exist.

Why go to a small church, then? Because connection comes more easily. You will interact weekly with believers across ages and stages of life. You will not need a formal mentoring system; you will naturally speak with seasoned Christians. Small churches tend to feel more familial.

Large churches offer something different. They often have substantial young adult ministries and multiple programs. The challenge is integration. It can be easy to remain within your demographic bubble. If you attend a large church, you must be intentional about crossing those lines. The strength is breadth; the risk is segmentation.

Medium-sized churches live between these poles. They may have some programs while retaining aspects of family life. Yet they can disappoint those expecting the “best of both worlds.” The programs may not be extensive, and the intimacy may not be complete. In such a setting, your expectations must be realistic. You may even help shape the culture, leaning it toward greater warmth or greater structure depending on your involvement.

As you search, think honestly about what size best fits your stage of life and temperament.

How to Build Community at Church
Twice in my pastoral career I have been primarily a church attender rather than a pastor—once between ministries and once during a sabbatical in 2019–20. That season taught me much about connection.

The church I pastored scheduled a fellowship time after worship. Conversation happened naturally there. In many others I visited, no such space existed. The service ended, and people streamed out or gathered with established friends. When conversations did occur, they were brief.

I realized something crucial: these were not cold people. Relational moments were simply not built into the structure.

If I wanted connection, I had to enter their rhythms.

So I attended a men’s breakfast. I went to a Wednesday dinner. There, conversation flowed. I was welcomed. I began forming ties. The lesson was simple: if you want community, you cannot limit yourself to Sunday worship alone. You must step into the additional spaces—Sunday School, meals, small groups, gatherings—where conversation is expected.

Second, move beyond church walls. Invite people for coffee or dinner. They may decline, but they may accept. Relationships deepen in shared life, not only shared pews.

When our family began attending a church in Tennessee, everything was new. We met many kind people but connected particularly with one couple. We invited them into our home. We shared meals. We widened the circle. By the week before our move to Illinois, they were helping install a railing, cleaning, and assisting with boxes. Friendship grew because we took intentional steps.

In our current church, Sunday Schools function as primary communities—not small groups exactly, but medium-sized gatherings where relationships form. This gives you an opportunity. When you sense affinity, take a further step. Community strengthens when individuals move from acquaintance to shared life.

Without those steps, community remains theoretical.

Avoid Illusions
The key to perseverance in church life is abandoning illusion. Four distortions commonly undermine community.

First, we idealize the future. We imagine a flawless community waiting for us. It will not exist. Every congregation has weaknesses. Community is necessary—and imperfect.

Second, we idealize the past. We compare a new church to a cherished memory and fail to see how connection actually works in the present. When we started attending a new church in TN, it took nearly a year to notice that Sunday Schools were their relational backbone. My expectations clouded my vision.

Third, we underestimate time. Relationships require accumulation—shared meals, shared burdens, shared conversations. Aristotle observed that to gain a friend one must eat a pound of salt together. The metaphor rings true. Depth forms slowly.

Fourth, we misunderstand purpose. Community is not primarily about fulfilling our personal blueprint. It is ordered toward Christ. “Do you love me?” Jesus asked. “Feed my sheep.” Community flows outward in service. We are united not by preference but by Christ.

Bonhoeffer captured this clearly: “The more genuine and the deeper our community becomes, the more will everything else between us recede, the more clearly and purely will Jesus Christ and his work become the one and only thing that is vital between us” (Life Together, 26).

Human beings are made for one another—and ultimately for God.

Happiness and Community
If community centers on God and others, where does that leave personal happiness?

Modern culture suggests that happiness is achieved through self-focus. Yet this path continually disappoints.

Classical thinkers such as Aristotle understood that flourishing was found in participation in shared life—what he called the city. This was not incidental; it was foundational.

Jesus affirmed an even deeper paradox: the one who seeks to save his life will lose it, but the one who loses it for His sake will find it.

In John 13, Jesus demonstrated true community by washing the feet of His disciples. Then He pronounced blessing on those who do likewise. Fulfillment does not arise from isolation or self-absorption, but from service.

Jesus showed the way. We are called to follow Him—living as people for the community under the Lord who lived for others more than anyone else in history.

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Photo by Sophie Spree on Unsplash