I didn’t want to go to church that day.
You probably don’t want to hear that from your pastor’s wife, but the truth is on that particular Sunday, I was in a bad mood. I hadn’t slept well, I had been discouraged all week about both work and some relationships. The morning had spun out of control as one of my children, also grumpy, collided with my impatience. I drove to church with gritted teeth and wished I had stayed home. But who would play the piano for the corporate singing if I stayed home? Who would fold the bulletins and get the communion bread ready at such a late notice? Can you really beg off from church because you’re mad at the world?
I’m too Type A to leave things undone for someone else, so I went to church purely from a sense of duty and nothing else. It certainly wasn’t a desire to worship the Lord with my church family, that’s for sure. I’d rather be left alone.
But something happened once I got to church. My bad mood fell apart.
Don’t get me wrong, I fought to stay in a snit because we’re nothing if not self-destructive, right?
But the tight feelings of anger and selfishness began to loosen their grip on my heart, and I could feel my inner self expanding as conviction and encouragement rushed into patch things up. More than I had needed to stay home, I had needed the church. I didn’t even know how much.
I can’t tell you how often I’ve walked out of corporate worship and thought, “Wow, I really needed a Sunday.”
Like that Sunday marked by my bad mood and cold heartedness, I’m not usually aware of how much I need the time with my local church beforehand. But once there, gathered with my church family, standing to sing praises to God, hearing the Word proclaimed, praying together, remembering the gospel together, taking communion to remember who I am in Jesus and who He has faithfully been to me, feeling conviction pierce the prickly parts of my heart, hugging my siblings in Christ in the hallway, discussing Scripture in the classroom—I realize how thirsty and hungry and weary I was when I walked in.
I need it all. Week after week after week. And, my friend, so do you. The psalmist tells us why.
In Psalm 73, Asaph mourns his life circumstances. He begins his psalm declaring what he knows to be true: God is good to those who are wholeheartedly devoted to Him (Ps. 73:1). And yet Asaph, who seeks to be faithful to God seems to only suffer for it. Meanwhile, the wicked around him are prosperous and happy, completely unbothered by suffering or conviction. They reject God’s Word and His authority, yet they have everything they want in this life. Asaph struggles to reconcile what he sees with his eyes with what he knows in his heart. “This just can’t be right,” he seems to say. He’s envious of the easy life enjoyed by enemies of God, but he can’t make sense of how he feels and what he believes (Ps. 73:16). Why suffer in faithfulness to God when you can reject God and still be happy and wealthy? Asaph can’t come to terms with the unfairness of it all. But he can’t walk away—he can’t. So he does something that changes everything.
He enters the house of the Lord. Or, as we might say on this side of the cross, he went to church.
When Asaph enters the house of the Lord—suddenly he sees. His spiritual myopia dissipates, and suddenly, everything makes sense. The way his perspective turns in verse 17 is sudden and jarring, in the best way. Out in the world among the scoffers and the oppressors, Asaph’s trust in the Lord had weakened. But standing in the presence of the Lord, his vision clears and his resolve is strengthened into steely faith to stand firm. The impetus for Asaph’s shift is this: he entered the temple where God’s manifest presence dwelled. When Asaph entered God’s presence, that truth he declared in verse 1 crystallized for him. God is good to those who are wholehearted. Buoyed by renewed purpose, he realized that he has everything he needs for God is his portion—forever. No temporary earthly comfort or treasure could ever match the inheritance that the God of Israel is to His people. Asaph remembers what is true—that God will make things right in the end. Those who reject God will not enjoy comfort forever. But the wholehearted worshiper will enjoy comfort forever because God is his comfort and refuge. The Lord is enough for Asaph. In this knowledge, his wilted faith blooms with resolve. How he needed to enter the house of the Lord that day!
As Spirit-filled believers in Jesus, the exhortations to meet with the body of Christ are vital to our spiritual health and growth. I have walked into the weekly corporate gathering feeling as worn down and as confused as Asaph. Why do the wicked prosper? Why does sin go unpunished? Why am I still the way that I am after all these years of walking with Jesus? But like Asaph, once I step into the house of the Lord, I begin to remember what I had forgotten.
Because of Jesus’ sacrifice at the cross, God’s people are now His dwelling place. We don’t need a temple or a specific place to worship. What we do need, Scripture makes clear, is the regular gathering of the family of God—brothers and sisters who are also indwelled by the Spirit—carrying out His commands to pray together, sing songs to one another, take communion, declare His Word, confess our sins, encourage one another to fight sin, and bear one another’s burdens.
Our resolve to love God wholeheartedly may weaken throughout the week. Life is hard and temptations abound. But when we regularly link arms with the family of God to worship, pray, and learn, that resolve is renewed and strengthened by the gathering of God’s people, His dwelling place.
No matter how I walk into church or what I carry with me, I leave my church on Sundays remembering what I nearly forgot: in Christ I have everything I need. He is my portion forever. I can face what tomorrow holds because now I remember who holds my tomorrow. Like Asaph, my desire to keep following in faithfulness is refreshed and restored. Week after week after week.
If you wake up on a Sunday morning feeling reluctant to gather with the church, I exhort you to go anyway. Suddenly, you’ll see.
Our resolve to love God wholeheartedly may weaken throughout the week, but when we gather with the church, our resolve to be faithful is renewed and strengthened. Share on X
Photo by Mitchell Leach on Unsplash
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and is the mother of two sons. She and her husband serve at Grace Bible Fellowship in Sikeston, Missouri where they have served for over twenty years. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence, Everyday Faithfulness, Memorizing Scripture, and Known & Loved. Connect with her on Instagram and Facebook, or sign up for her monthly newsletter.
