I feel nauseous just thinking about it. On the plus side, there’d be some haphazard pastoral care and a bit of children’s work. Better coffee. (Forget the roof repairs, we’re investing in the world’s biggest Nespresso (and George Clooney if he’s free). No rotas. (I have nothing against rotas, but the mental energy required to synthesise forty different schedules into one spreadsheet is just not available). We wouldn’t have PCC meetings because er – I can’t be bothered. We’d have the odd prayer meeting, but it’d be over before ‘Made in Chelsea’. And we’d be full of good intentions but would exhaust ourselves before carrying them out.
That’s the good stuff.
On the down side, there’d be no-one there with an ounce of common sense. Lots of noise but not much action. The tea cups wouldn’t get washed up. The church would be closed to stop people dropping crumbs on the carpet. We wouldn’t have spontaneous picnics or spontaneous anything. We’d have only one hymn and that would be short. Preaching – sure. But I’d have a trap door installed so that when the vicar threatened to talk for too long (Spirit-inspired or not), down he’d go. Prayers would be matter-of-fact and to the point. Maybe we could tweet them. And we’d only have preachers that I like, preaching on my favourite passages. Definitely nothing too controversial or challenging. A nice blessed thought to send me out into the week.
I often think my way is best. But on reflection, if the church just looked like me, I’d stay far, far away. How about you? If your church looked like you, what would be good about it? What would be missing?