Growing up, when someone said, we're going to
church, nobody needed a dictionary. You got dressed,
you found your Bible, you piled into the car,
and you drove to a building. For me, that building
was a tiny rural church in the Ozarks. It was
not flashy. Nobody was ever going to confuse
it with a production venue or some kind of concert
venue. The lobby was maybe six feet wide, max.
a little wooden table on the other side with
a stack of our daily bread devotional booklets
sitting on top of it. That place was so important
to me. It mattered deeply. It was where I learned
scripture. It's where older saints prayed over
me. It's where faithful believers corrected me,
encouraged me, and occasionally handed me a job
long before I was old enough to realize that
I'd been drafted into ministry. That building,
holds some sacred memories for me. And because
those memories carry emotional weight, it's incredibly
easy to attach the word church directly to the
physical place. We talk about the church down
the road, meeting someone at the church, or the
church needing a new roof. Everybody knows what
we mean. That casual shorthand is not sinful.
But if we're not careful, Casual shorthand can
quietly shape our theology. Church becomes somewhere
we visit on Sunday, instead of a people we belong
to every day. The building becomes the center.
The weekend service becomes the main event. The
pastor can slowly become the person we expect
to carry most of the ministry, and the rest of
us can settle into a predictable rhythm. We arrive,
we receive, we leave. That does not always happen
because a pastor asked for it. Sometimes we place
those expectations on our leaders. Sometimes
the pattern develops slowly over decades. And
sometimes everybody is doing the best they know
to do. And none of us realize how much of the
life of the body has gradually been placed into
the hands of a few people. But whatever the reason.
we still have to examine our own responsibility.
Am I treating church as something I attend or
as a body I belong to? Am I expecting someone
else to carry ministry that Christ has called
the whole body to share? Because you can attend
a building faithfully for 20 years and still
remain mostly unknown. You can know where the
church is located without ever discovering where
you fit inside the body. Which brings us right
to the core question we are sitting in today.
What if the church is not primarily a place we
enter, but a people Christ has joined us to?
Welcome to Grace in the Grind, brought to you
by Arrow & Roots Coffee Company, where faith
meets the everyday. Here we take time to notice
God's presence in the middle of life's busiest
moments, to find encouragement, clarity. and
a reminder of His grace right in the grind of
daily life. So grab your copy and let's take
a sip of this cup together. Today, we're unpacking
a phrase almost every Christian agrees with on
paper. The church is a people, not a place. It
sounds simple. If you asked a hundred believers
in a room, almost all of them would probably
nod their heads and agree. We know the brick
and mortar building is not technically the church,
but the real test is not whether we can recite
the sentence correctly. The real test is whether
our daily lives and our habits as church members
actually reflect it. If the church is a people,
belonging cannot be reduced to attendance. If
the church is a body, participation cannot be
reduced to watching. If the church is a family,
relationships cannot remain optional. And if
we're living stones being built together, Christianity
cannot be faithfully practiced as an isolated
arrangement between me and Jesus. Today, we're
going to look at 1 Corinthians 12, Ephesians
2, and 1 Peter 2. By the end of this cut, I want
us to have a clear biblical picture of what it
actually means to belong, not merely to visit
a gathering. but to be joined to Christ and joined
to his people. And as we walk through this, the
first question is not, what is my church doing
wrong? The first question is, what responsibility
has Christ given me within his body? Paul writes
in 1 Corinthians 12, For just as the body is
one and has many members, and all the members
of the body, though many, are one body, So it
is with Christ. 1 Corinthians 12 .12 Notice what
Paul does not say. He does not say the church
is an audience. He does not say the church is
a weekly lecture series. He does not say the
church is a spiritual drive -thru where people
stop by for religious goods and services. He
says the church is a body. This is not just a
metaphor. It describes our shared life together.
A body is alive, connected, and mutually dependent.
It has distinct parts with different functions,
but none of those parts is meant to exist alone.
Paul continues, That single verse confronts two
serious errors. One says, because my role is
not visible, my presence does not matter. The
other says, because I am mature, experienced,
or capable, I do not really need the rest of
the body. Paul rejects both. The unseen member
is still necessary. The strong member is still
dependent. Nobody gets to say, I do not matter.
And nobody gets to say, I don't need you. Biblical
belonging is not built around prominence. It's
built around connection and faithfulness. The
person quietly praying may be strengthening the
body in ways most people will never notice. The
older believer steadily discipling one younger
Christian over coffee may be doing work that
lasts for generations. And the believer who brings
a meal visits the sick teaches a class, or sits
beside someone in grief is not doing secondary
church work. This is the body functioning. And
when the body functions that way, ministry does
not have to rest on one person. Pastors and elders
lead, teach, shepherd, and equip. But the body
ministers to the body under the headship of Christ.
Which means I cannot simply ask, is my pastor
caring for everyone? I also have to ask, who
has Christ called me to notice, encourage, and
help carry? In Ephesians 2, Paul shifts the image
from a human body to a temple. But the central
truth remains the same. He tells us that we are
members of the household of God, built on the
foundation of the apostles and prophets, with
Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him,
the whole structure. Being joined together grows
into a holy temple in the Lord. In him, you also
are being built together into a dwelling place
for God by the Spirit. Ephesians 2, 21 and 22.
Look at that phrase, built together. Not stacked
near each other, not occupying the same room
once a week while remaining spiritually disconnected.
Joined together. Think about construction for
a second. A pile of loose rocks dumped into a
field is not a temple. You can put a thousand
bricks in the same square footage, but proximity
alone does not create a structure. The stones
have to be placed, aligned, and fitted together.
In the same way, standing in the same room once
a week does not automatically create biblical
community. You can sing beside someone for years
and never learn their name. You can listen to
the same sermon and never carry one another's
burdens. You can sit in the same row every Sunday
and still have nobody in your life who has permission
to ask you a hard question. That's attendance.
It may be an entry point, but it's not faithfulness
of belonging. Scripture describes believers being
fitted together. And being fitted together means
I do not get to choose only the parts of the
body that are easy for me. Other believers will
occasionally annoy me. They will misunderstand
me. They will require patience from me. And painfully
enough, I will require grace and patience from
them. The church is not a showroom of finished
products. It is a people being shaped together
while Christ continues his work. Every one of
us. And that means the question is not merely,
have I found a church where everything fits my
preferences? The better question is, am I allowing
Christ to fit me into the life of his people?
Peter picks up the same imagery in 1 Peter 2.
As you come to him, a living stone rejected by
men, but in the sight of God chosen and precious,
you yourselves are like living stones. being
built up as a spiritual house. 1 Peter 2, 4,
and 5. Christ is the ultimate living stone. We
come to him, and in him, we become living stones
being built together into something far larger
than our individual lives. The distinction matters
because the church does not save us. Christ does.
The church is not our savior. She cannot bear
the weight that belongs to Jesus alone. Local
churches can disappoint us. Leaders can fail.
Members can cause real wounds. Structures can
become unhealthy. And when those things happen,
we should tell the truth. Protecting the reputation
of the church must never become more important
than protecting the people, telling the truth,
or pursuing repentance. That does not mean every
conflict is abuse and does not mean every disagreement
proves a church is unhealthy. It means real sin
should be confronted honestly, and real harm
should never be hidden behind religious language.
At the same time, we cannot faithfully claim
to love Christ while treating connection to his
people as unnecessary. Christ joins himself,
and in joining us to himself, He joins us to
his people. That does not mean remaining in an
abusive, doctrinally corrupt environment. It
does not mean leaders should never be questioned.
Faithful leaders recognize that the church belongs
to Christ, and they should welcome biblical accountability.
But permanent isolation is not the ordinary New
Testament pattern for Christian life. The church
is not. Precious because Christians behave flawlessly.
The church is precious because Christ purchased
her with his own blood and continues to build
her. And even when we have been hurt, the question
eventually becomes, how do I heal without allowing
my pain to convince me that I no longer need
the body? Here's where the conversation gets
uncomfortable. A lot of us have learned how to
attend church without ever actually belonging
to the body. We know the routine. We know when
to arrive. We know where to sit. We know how
to have the quick lobby conversation where both
people say, doing great, how are you? And neither
person has the time to hear the real answer.
Then we go home. Because we were physically in
the room, we assume we have practiced New Testament
fellowship. But biblical fellowship is deeper
than being polite. in the lobby. The Greek word
often translated fellowship is koinonia. It carries
the idea of sharing, participation, partnership,
and common life. It's not just drinking coffee
before the service. Though, as you know, I'm
a fan of really good coffee before the service,
after the service, during the service. Koinonia
means we pray for one another, carry one another's
burdens. Speak truth with grace and use what
God has given us for the good of someone else.
The church becomes spiritually thin when attendance
replaces participation. And yes, structures can
sometimes make participation harder. But before
I critique a structure, I need to examine my
own posture. Have I been waiting for someone
to personally invite me to every opportunity?
Have I assumed that because I do not have a title,
that I don't have responsibility? Have I evaluated
sermons, music, programs, and leadership while
remaining mostly uninvolved in the lives of the
people around me? It's easy to criticize a church
for feeling impersonal while guarding our own
lives from being known. It's easy to say nobody
noticed without asking whether we have learned
to notice others. And it's easy to say ministry
feels... concentrated in a few hands while keeping
our own hands safely in our pockets. That does
not remove the responsibility of leaders to equip
the saints, but it reminds us that the health
of the body is not someone else's responsibility
alone. Every one of us has a part. So the question
is not first, what are they failing to provide?
The question is, how am I participating in their
life? Christ has placed around me. Being known
sounds warm and comforting until someone actually
knows you. Then it gets inconvenient because
being known means someone may notice when your
attitude gets a little sharp, when you quietly
disappear, or when a pattern in your life begins
moving in the wrong direction. It gets uncomfortable.
But anonymity is not the same thing as safety.
Sometimes, anonymity protects the very patterns
Christ is trying to heal. We need brothers and
sisters who know us well enough to encourage
what is good, confront what is destructive, and
remind us of truth when our own thoughts become
unreliable. And just as importantly, other people
need that from us. Belonging means I do not only
ask who is caring for me. I also ask, Who does
God place near me for me to care for? The body
does not become healthy when everyone waits to
be noticed. It becomes healthy when members learn
to notice. That means sometimes I make a call,
send the text, stay after the service, ask the
second question, or show up when somebody else
needs help. Because responsibility to the body
is not abstract. It takes the shape of actual
people. I want to pull back for a second because
this conversation can easily sound like one more
heavy demand on an already exhausted life. You
may hear all of this and think, great, one more
area I'm failing. That's not the tone of the
gospel. Christ is not standing over his church
with a clipboard, disappointed that we have not
achieved flawless community. He is the cornerstone,
holding the weight. He's the head supplying the
life. He is the shepherd who pursues weary and
wandering sheep. Grace allows us to tell the
truth about our disconnection without believing
we can repair it through frantic activity. Some
of you have pulled back because you were deeply
hurt. Some of you are exhausted. And some of
you are dealing with real social anxiety. And
some of you have served for years. And now you
hear every invitation as one more demand. Hear
me. The answer is not shame. The answer is not
pretending your limits do not exist. The answer
is an invitation towards healthy, truthful, Christ
-centered relationships at a wise and faithful
pace. Grace does not force fake closeness. It
makes honest belonging possible. And grace also
frees us to take responsibility. without needing
to defend ourselves. We can simply admit that
we have stayed disconnected, expected others
to carry too much, and waited to be noticed instead
of learning to notice. We can confess that without
fear that Christ is done with us. He corrects
the people he loves. He restores what has drifted.
He teaches living stones how to be built together.
As we wrap up today, Let me give you four questions
to carry into this week. Who knows the real condition
of my soul? Whose burden am I helping carry?
Where is my spiritual gift strengthening the
body? And would my absence be felt relationally
or merely statistically? Don't try to solve all
four questions by Sunday or anything. Start small.
Invite someone to a meal. Stay a few minutes
after the service for a real conversation. Step
into a smaller gathering where people can know
you. Ask someone how they are doing and wait
long enough to hear the real answer. Offer your
gift. Receive help without apologizing for needing
it. Belonging is rarely built through one dramatic
event. It's built through small. Repeated acts
of presence. The church is not less than a gathered
people. We should gather. We should sing, pray,
sit under the faithful teaching of scripture,
and take the Lord's Supper together. But the
church is more than the building where those
things take place. The church is a people Christ
has purchased for himself. A body with many members.
A household of brothers and sisters. Living stones
being built together into a holy temple. So the
next time you say, I'm going to church, you don't
need to apologize or correct yourself. Everybody
knows what you mean. But in your heart, remember
the deeper reality. You're not merely visiting
a place. You are gathering with a people you
belong to. A people who need you. people you
need. The building is where the church gathers.
In Christ, the people are the church. And the
question for each of us is not simply, did I
attend? It is, am I faithfully loving, serving,
and belonging to the body Christ has joined me
to? Before our next cup, make sure to tune in
for the extra shot. You cannot attend a body.
We're going to dig further into the difference
between present at the gathering and actual participating
in the shared life of Christ's people. Then in
cup four, we'll talk about what happens when
the church gathers, gathered to be formed. We
will look at why gathering is not merely something
we attend for inspiration, but one of the primary
places Christ shapes his people together. Follow
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on the Grind, brought to you by Arrow & Roots
Coffee Company. Until next time, keep your coffee
strong and your faith stronger.