c. 2007 Religion News Service

(UNDATED) Whether they say so or not, I think most people come to churches on a spiritual quest.

They might see their needs in more functional terms, like wanting friendship, loving good music, making business contacts, or doing the right thing by their children.

Or perhaps the “buzz” about a lively congregation has piqued their curiosity. Or they want one bit of routine in their lives that isn’t devoted to work or self.

But the heart of their quest, I think, is a hunger for God, born of a restlessness to which only God can respond.

Responding to that spiritual quest is a tricky business. We tend to get caught up in their presenting reasons. They say they want professional support, so we provide professional support groups. They say they want lively worship, so we provide lively worship.

Then when they still act out their restlessness in odd behavior, neediness and fickleness, we’re confused. Haven’t we given them exactly what they sought?

Some congregations, of course, don’t respond at all. They’re fighting over doctrine, denomination and local power. In their idolatry of right-opinion and control, they cannot stop shouting long enough to hear the pilgrim’s cry, much less respond to it.

An over-concern for tradition tends to dull the senses. How can a deep need for prayer break through a never-ending argument about the proper wording or posture of prayer? How can a formless quest for the divine find light in a power struggle between Third World and First World bishops over sexuality?

If, on the other hand, congregations did want to honor the spiritual quest, what would they do?

First thing, of course: stop arguing. Simply turn off the microphones, close the notebooks with the talking points, stop counting votes, stop hurling invective, sit down and be quiet.

If I could give any advice to warring Christians, it would be: God has no stake in your warfare; your battles are all about you. So be still, and listen. Listen to the world you presume to care about. Listen to the aching hearts around you. Listen to the questions people are asking. Just be quiet.

Second, take the spiritual quest seriously. That quest is your reason for being. It’s the reason you are granted tax exemption, the reason you have any shred of respect, the reason you have access to people’s lives.

Teach people to pray. Not to fight about prayer, but to sit, stand, kneel, bicycle or sky-dive in the presence of God.

Teach people about fasting and servanthood, when we turn down the fearsome engine of self and walk the path of self-denial and self-sacrifice.

Teach people to study the Bible. Not to take sides in the stale posturing of biblical partisans, but to read ancient words and to build bridges to modern life, and then to be transformed by a God who has never lived in a box.

Teach people to make their confession. Not as some bowing to clerical authority, but as a humble submission to the God who alone can give mercy and forgiveness.

Teach people to worship, with a focus not on perpetuating traditional forms, but on laying their lives before God today.

Teach people to be silent. For it is in the stillness of a penitent heart that we will sense our arms reaching out to God and hear the rustling of a great cloud of people also seeking God.

(Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the author of “Just Wondering, Jesus,” and the founder of the Church Wellness Project, http://www.churchwellness.com. His Web site is http://www.morningwalkmedia.com.)

KRE/LF END EHRICH

600 words

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