Is real church going to church?

I’m Considering Writing a Book… and I’m Not Sure You’ll Like It

I’m considering writing a book.

That sentence alone already makes me pause—because the book I’m thinking about isn’t neat, or safe, or easily summarized on the back cover. It’s more of a question than a conclusion. A wondering. A slow, honest look at something I love and something that has shaped me deeply.

The working idea goes something like this:

The real church isn’t something you attend to receive a performance.
Not because church is wrong.
Not because gathering is wrong.
Not because sermons, music, or buildings are wrong.

But because I’m not convinced that’s the whole story.

And if I write this book, I want to be very clear about something up front:
This would not be a book against church.
It would be a book for the Church—in the deepest sense of the word.

A Sunday Morning Question

Here’s the moment that keeps returning to me.

On Sunday morning… look around.

Who is actually doing the work?

I don’t mean who is on stage.
I don’t mean who has the microphone.
I mean the quieter work:

• Who is setting up?

• Who is caring for kids?

• Who is staying late?

• Who is checking on the hurting?

• Who is carrying responsibility when no one is clapping?

And maybe the more uncomfortable question:

Why are they doing it?

Is it obligation?
Calling?
Love?
Habit?
Fear of letting people down?

None of those answers are inherently bad. But they do tell a story about how we understand faith, community, and responsibility.

This Isn’t About Attendance

Let me say this plainly:
Going to church is not wrong.

Showing up matters. Gathering matters. Shared space matters. Tradition matters. Sunday mornings matter to many people—and that’s okay.

What I’m curious about is something else.

When we gather, are we primarily receiving, or are we being formed?

Are we being inspired… or apprenticed?
Comforted… or commissioned?
Encouraged… or sent?

Those are not either/or questions.
They’re invitations to examine the balance.

The Tension I Can’t Shake

Somewhere along the way, many of us learned—implicitly, not maliciously—that faith looks like sitting, listening, agreeing, and leaving.

Again: not wrong.
But maybe incomplete.

Because the earliest vision of the church wasn’t a crowd watching a few gifted people do spiritual work on their behalf. It was a body—messy, imperfect, active—each part contributing, each part needed.

I’m not convinced we lost that because we were lazy or faithless.

I think we lost it because it’s harder.

Harder to participate than consume.
Harder to take responsibility than take notes.
Harder to live faith on Tuesday than to nod on Sunday.

Why a Book?

I’m considering writing this book because I hear the same quiet ache from people across the spectrum:

• People who still go to church but feel oddly untouched by it

• People who left, not out of rebellion, but exhaustion

• Leaders who feel pressure to perform rather than shepherd

• Faithful churchgoers who wonder, “Is there more than this?”

This wouldn’t be a manifesto.
It wouldn’t be a teardown.
It wouldn’t be a call to abandon church.

It would be a conversation.

I Want Your Honest Reaction

So here’s where I’d genuinely love your voice.

If I wrote a book exploring these questions…

• Would you hate it (and possibly me 😅)?

• Would you support it?

• Or would you say, “I think you’re close, but here’s a correction you need to hear”?

All three responses are welcome.

If this idea bothers you, I want to know why.
If it resonates, I want to know what part.
If you think I’m missing something important, I want that too.

Reply. Comment. Push back. Encourage. Refine.

I’m not trying to be right.

I’m trying to be honest—and faithful—to a question that won’t leave me alone.

And maybe… it won’t leave you alone either.