Several years ago, there was a video that made the rounds called “I Hate Religion, But I Love Jesus.” It made the rounds for a long time (35 million views and counting), and influenced a lot of social media platforms at a time when social media “influencing” was still relatively new.
Obviously, its message resonated with a lot of people. Many felt like they had been let down by their various religious organizations, but still maintained a deep love for God. As a result, in their minds, if they could worship without any kind of institutionalization and just focus on God, that would be ideal.
I’m not here to defend any kind of marginalized groups. I do believe that a lot of religious groups have misled, mistreated, or outright lied to well-meaning people for the sake of their own personal gain. I talk to people regularly who have a hesitation about church because they have that kind of past.
But that doesn’t mean you can just abandon the church as a whole and wander off in some kind of personal worship with God.
Why not? First, because people are always going to be part of the equation. Whether that’s being encouraged by them, resisting them, teaching them, allowing them to correct you, or something else entirely, the Gospel is about people.
Second, because any attempt to reconfigure the nature of worship (as found in the Bible) inevitably ends with heresy.
More than 2,000 years ago, Moses tackled this problem. Talking to a group of Israelites who were wandering through the desert, he warned them not to make their sacrifices wherever they pleased. What they needed to do was bring them to the “door of the Tabernacle of the Congregation,” or else they would be cut off from the people (Leviticus 17:4). This directive emphasized the importance of centralized worship and maintaining communal identity among the Israelites. Additionally, it set the stage for further instructions on offerings and the institution of the tithe in Leviticus, which required that a portion of their produce be dedicated to the support of the religious establishment. By establishing these practices, Moses guided the people in their covenant relationship with God and reinforced the values of dedication and accountability within the community.
There is zero doubt in my mind that many people questioned this condition. After all, what was so special about the Tabernacle? Why can’t they become priests unto themselves and make the exact same sacrifice from their living room? Yet, the Tabernacle represented more than just a physical structure; it was a divinely ordained space where life and power in the blood were crucial for redemption. This sacrificial system served as a profound reminder of the need for atonement and the sacredness of the relationship between God and His people. It underscored the belief that true connection and worship could not be replicated in isolation, but rather required a communal act anchored in faith.
That’s exactly what the tribe of Dan tried. In Judges 18, a group of people hired a Levite to minster to them alone. Within 20 verses, that same group went off into idolatry, followed quickly by a host of other sins.
Religion demands community. It needs accountability. We should be the ones conforming to what the Word demands of us, not us demanding the Word meet us on our terms.
If you look at a map that shows the layout of the Israelite camp in the wilderness, you’ll find that it’s spread out in four different directions. At the center is the Tabernacle. Everyone had similar access to the sacrifices and priests.
At the center of our lives should be God. I’ve known of people who have zero qualms about spending all weekend at a baseball tournament, only to tell me later that they were going to “catch the virtual services later.” Is that really the way it should be?
I get why people leave church. Some of the worst people I’ve ever met in my life were met inside the four walls of a church building. Trauma can (and does) exist.
But the overwhelming majority of people I’ve met inside of a church building are some of the best that this world has to offer. They’re kind, caring, compassionate, humble, and, just as importantly, motivated to better their spiritual walk with God. They live to serve others. They are by far the majority rather than the exception.
Those are the types of people I need in my life. Throwing away community worship simply because of potential issues is not only wrong, it’s also incredibly naive. Name me one group of people anywhere that doesn’t have some a few bad apples. You can’t. They don’t exist.
God wants His people to worship together—not only because that’s how He designed worship, but because He understands the power of community worship. Do I?
