I am grateful as well for her testimony about a little church that appears — for no clear reason — to have resisted the parasite known as moralistic therapeutic deism.
Our family went “off-the-grid,” ecclesially-speaking, three and a half years ago, finding ourselves in a church that has been on the brink of closing for the past 132 years. We came, frankly, because we were losing our kids (and–significantly–ourselves) to MTD in the large program church we had been attending. People like me are supposed to change churches—not change churches—but as a parishioner, I kept waking up in the middle of the night, like Miss Clavell in the Madeleine stories, knowing that “something is not right.” If our daughter was to have a faith home before she graduated (and both words in the phrase “faith home” mattered), we were running out of time. An ocean liner can change course, but it does so slowly. So that’s how we wound up in a rowboat, a skiff that gets tossed around when the weather changes but can also change course pretty fast if you put your back into it. And in a small congregation, if you’re going to get anywhere, you need every single person to row.
Read her whole post. It is worth your time.