THE PRIMORDIAL CHURCH

by Duane Cottrell

November 2003

 

I spent the greater part of four years working to build and discover community by starting a new church for young adults. When that experiment didn't sustain itself, my wife and I were left with few options. Interestingly, our path led us to a place where we found the truest community there is-family.

 

It goes without saying that the family is the basis of community. In fact, in my typical presentation to churches about "postmodern" culture, I used to cite the breakdown of the family as a major cause of the need for community most young adults feel. And besides, it makes perfect biblical and theological sense, too. In every wedding I perform, I always remind young couples that God created family in the second chapter of Genesis-long before he created Israel or the Church. So what has been so revolutionary about this journey? I'm not exactly sure. But as I sit down and take an inventory of the key attributes of community, I realize I can find them all (in some form) in my own family.

 

Right around the time our church "experiment" was coming to a close, my wife and I had our first child. It was a stressful time, as she was in the hospital on bed rest for the final 7 weeks of her pregnancy, but it was an amazing time, too. A great community of friends surrounded us, and they were very giving and very supportive. But the thankless community was the one that traveled hundreds of miles for us. Elisa's mom and sister came for that final week in the hospital (a much needed help to me), and after the birth, her dad came and joined us. A few weeks later my parents came and spent a week with us. Our friends had been a great help, but it was my mother-in-law who was trading middle-of-the-night feedings with me so Elisa could rest. It was my sister-in-law who was helping cook meals and do baby laundry. And even for me, the word "family" was being re-defined. Cradling my newborn daughter and praying for her every night with my wife by my side became my best definition of "church."

 

Soon after, our circumstances forced us to close the doors on our small church community. We had no income, no job, and no idea what to do next. So, we did the most humiliating thing a self-sufficient American could do...we went home. Just shy of turning 30, I found myself unemployed and moving back in with my parents, and I was bringing my wife and six-month-old daughter! It felt like a bad sitcom. But what I realize now is that coming home was probably the safest thing we could have done. We were hurt by our experiences and failures, and we needed to be loved unconditionally. We had a small band of ultra-faithful friends, but even they were not enough to shield us from the lingering questions and accusations. We found the exact opposite of "community" in churches, whose only questions for us were "what did you do with the money we gave you," and "what did you do with the stuff you bought with the money we gave you." Some even refused to talk to us. So, coming home was a way to retreat to the safety of people who love you no matter how hard you fall or how much of a failure you are. I can honestly say that there were no expectations of us and no judgments made by our families. We were just two people...a son and a daughter, a brother and a sister, a husband and a wife, and a mother and a father.

 

Watching my daughter around this extended "family" has been an eye opening experience as well. She has grown to love and depend on her "village" that consists of both sets of grandparents and now a great-grandfather. At first, I was a little unsure how to feel about her attachment to her grandparents, but now it brings me great joy when she gets so excited to see them. She feels loved everywhere she turns, and I can't think of a better definition of community. So much so, in fact, that we have decided to continue living with my parents for another year, rather than find "our own place," which would be a step away from community.

 

As for our new immediate family, we are discovering the joy of a different kind of community. I can't express how much I love spending time together just the three of us. I have since gotten a job that allows me to come home in the evenings and leave "work" at "work." With weekends and holidays, I have a lot time to spend with my wife and daughter, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.

 

The struggle I have is the apparent tension between serving God and investing in my family. I can't count the number of people who have asked, "So, where are you going to church?" I feel like a pagan when I say we're not attending anywhere. But the other day I heard something that made me think. We have attended a Catholic church several times over the past few months, and the first thing we noticed was that there seemed to be no childcare during the Mass. After a while we noticed that children of all ages were not only in the Mass, but parents were encouraged to bring them. In my background, children were usually carted off to a place where they wouldn't disturb all of us serious older churchgoers, and they could hear cute little bible lessons that were age-appropriate. It intrigued me further to discover that this Catholic church condoned-even encouraged-families to take a hiatus from coming to Mass while they had small children. The reasoning was not what I expected, either: they were taught that the family is the first church-the primordial church-and should be the main focus of the parents' service to God during that time. Not coming to church in order to focus on your family was actually viewed as one of the most fundamental ways to serve God.

 

That idea struck me in a way it never had before. Is it possible that I can serve God by raising a family? It seems so simple. I know so many pastors who would either imply or say directly that it wouldn't count and that I should find some area of ministry in addition to my family (perhaps teaching children's Sunday School). But I have come to settle on the idea that my family is my primary place of service in God's kingdom. And as I continue to work with this idea, I feel better and better about my choice to step out of full-time paid vocational ministry in order to find real community with my family. I know there will be a time and a place for other kinds of service, but right now this is what is right. I am still a pastor, but my congregation has a membership of two.