So, You love Jesus, but hate the church ... Really?

So, I’ve had it with people saying, “I love Jesus, but I hate the church.” I get it, okay. I understand. At times, and in some important ways, the church has not lived up to its calling. Sometimes, the church gets co-opted by political parties, marketing schemes and other worldly concerns that shrink the mission and vitality of the church, if not completely undermine it altogether. That said, I believe we throw the proverbial baby out with the bath water when we take the perspective that says “I love Jesus, but I hate the church.”

The problem seems to be a matter of rhetoric about the church. N. T. Wright puts it this way:

I use the word “church” here with a somewhat heavy heart. I know that for many of my readers that very word will carry the overtones of large, dark buildings, pompous religious pronouncements, false solemnity, and rank hypocrisy. But there is no easy alternative. I, too, feel the weight of that negative image. I battle with it professionally all the time.

But there is another side to it, a side which shows all the signs of the wind and fire, of the bird brooding over the waters and bringing new life. For many, “church” means just the opposite of that negative image. It’s a place of welcome and laughter, of healing and hope, of friends and family and justice and new life. It’s where the homeless drop in for a bowl of soup and the elderly stop by for a chat. It’s where one group is working to help drug addicts and another is campaigning for global justice. It’s where you’ll find people learning to pray, coming to faith, struggling with temptation, finding new purpose, and getting in touch with a new power to carry that purpose out. It’s where people bring their own small faith and discover, in getting together with others to worship the one true God, that the whole becomes greater than the sum of its parts. No church is like this all the time. But a remarkable number of churches are partly like that for quite a lot of the time.

Nor must we forget that it was the church in South Africa which worked and prayed and suffered and struggled so that, when major change happened and apartheid was overthrown and a new freedom came to that land, it came without the massive bloodshed we were all expecting. It was the church which stayed alive at the heart of the old Communist Eastern Europe, and which at the end, with processions of candles and crosses, made it clear that enough was enough. It is the church which, despite all its follies and failings, is there when it counts in hospitals, schools, prisons, and many other places. I would rather rehabilitate the word ‘church’ than beat about the bush with long-winded phrases like ‘the family of God’s people’ or ‘all those who believe in and follow Jesus’ or ‘the company of those who, in the power of the Spirit, are bringing God’s new creation to birth.’ But I mean all those things when I say “church.” (Simply Christian, pp. 123-124)

As much as I sympathize with the perspective that says, “I love Jesus, but I hate the church,” I believe it is seriously wrong-headed and reflects spiritual immaturity. First, this kind of statement is nonsensical. You can’t love Jesus and hate His bride (Ephesians 5:25). You can’t love Jesus, and then hate his church. He bled and died for the church (Acts 20:28).

Second, as N. T. Wright pointed out, there is no real alternative. That’s the real problem with this perspective, as I see it. The suggestion is that you can take it or leave it—as if the church is all a bunch of pomp and circumstance and no substance. To people who are looking for hope, help and a place to grow and perfect the holiness of Christ in their lives, the church is exactly what they need. To a world that is drowning in sin and selfishness, the church is its last best hope. I agree with Bill Hybels, who said in his book Courageous Leadership (2002):

There is nothing like the local church when it’s working right. Its beauty is indescribable. Its power is breathtaking. Its potential is unlimited. It comforts the grieving and heals the broken in the context of community. It builds bridges to seekers and opens its arms to the forgotten, the downtrodden, and the disillusioned. It breaks the chains of addictions, frees the oppressed, and offers belonging to the marginalized of this world. The potential of the local church is almost more than I can grasp.

Third, while we do need prophetic voices in the church, and voices of reform and renewal, we do not need voices that only know how to disparage and discourage. The perspective that says, “I love Jesus, but I hate the church,” thinks it has identified the problem. But, all they’ve done is to define the church by those aspects of it that have failed to truly be the church. When this “hate the church” perspective speaks of “church,” they have a narrow and limited perspective. They only see the bad. And, when you only have eyes to see what’s wrong and what’s bad, you will not fail to find what you’re looking for. This is why it seems so immature to anyone who has been in the trenches for longer than a minute. Jesus promised that the world would hate his disciples, but now his disciples are taking over for the world.

If those who hold this perspective want to reform and renew the vitality and mission of the church, then I am right there with them. But, the rhetoric is not helping folks. Let’s drop the polemical rhetoric, the false dichotomy of Jesus vs. the church and find a way to be a part of the solution. After all, if you’re not part of the solution, you’re probably part of the problem.