What Is the Church For?

I like to think of myself as a realist. Which mostly means I teeter on the edge of optimism and pessimism, depending on the news cycle.

The realist in me is alarmed. Wars, violence, political division, loneliness, greed, cynicism they've carved a chasm between people wide enough that civil discourse doesn't even seem welcome anymore. And when the chasm gets that wide, we tend to do one of two things. We withdraw, because living inside this much tension is exhausting and agonizing. Or we fight make sure the right people get elected, the right laws get passed, the right party wins the next round.

Here's the part I don't think we say out loud enough: millions of evangelical Christians have quietly come to see America itself as a land set apart a people uniquely blessed, in a special covenant with God. Tim Alberta names this directly in The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory: "This love of country has given way to a right-wing nationalist fervor, a reckless blood and soil idolatry that trivializes the kingdom of Jesus Christ."

That's a blunt sentence. I know. But I don't think it's wrong, and I don't think we get anywhere by flinching from it.

The American church is exactly as divided and polarized as the rest of American society. Which means it's worth asking some uncomfortable questions out loud. What should the church do with itself right now? What is the church even for? And underneath both of those why the church at all? Why not just be a good, decent, private person and skip the institution entirely?

I don't think these are rhetorical questions. I think they're urgent ones, and I think the honest way to sit with them is prayer before opinion. That's what I want to spend the next several podcasts doing: wrestling with these questions, out loud, in public, with some of my own thinking and some borrowed from others who are asking the same things. I'd genuinely love for you to join that conversation and bring your own questions, doubts, and pushback. You can find us at believedoubtseek.org.

Here's where I land, though, as an optimist and not just a realist: I don't think the fate of the church hinges on which direction American politics tips next. It hinges on who's leading it.

The Pharisees once grilled Jesus on when the kingdom of God would finally show up expecting, I'd guess, some kind of political or military answer. He didn't give them one.

"The kingdom of God doesn't come by counting the days on the calendar. Nor when someone says, 'Look here!' or, 'There it is!' And why? Because God's kingdom is already among you." (Luke 17:20–21, MSG)

No visible sign. No conquest. No regime change. The kingdom was already there, in the room, in the person standing in front of them because Jesus himself was the kingdom breaking in. Not a strategy. Not a platform. A presence.

That's the thing I keep coming back to. My prayer genuinely is that people who follow Jesus would embody that presence right now, in a country this exhausted and this divided. Not with better arguments. With listening. Serving. Forgiving. Plain, unglamorous kindness. That's not a lesser calling than political engagement. In a moment like this one, I think it might be the harder and more radical one.

Which is exactly where this weekend's episode picks up.

We're in Colossians 4, where Paul tells a small, scattered, politically powerless group of Christ followers to do one thing before anything else: pray. Not "pray as a last resort after strategy fails." Pray as the actual starting point because if you can engineer the outcome yourself, you were never really depending on God to begin with. A lot of us, if we're honest, have quietly swapped prayer for technique. Better tactics, messaging, and maybe Sunday turnout. And in doing that, we've made God smaller and the world's problems, somehow, both scarier and easier to manage, which is its own kind of idolatry, just a subtler one than the Alberta quote above.

We're also unpacking something we're calling Movement 6: an honest look at where All Saints is headed, and an invitation, not a blueprint. I'll tell you plainly: I don't have this figured out top to bottom, and I'm not interested in pretending I do. What I do believe is that the way forward isn't a sharper political strategy or a louder culture-war voice. It's ordinary people, formed by prayer, paying attention to what breaks their hearts because what breaks your heart is very often exactly what breaks the heart of God. That ache is usually the Spirit, showing you where your life is supposed to meet his mission. Not a talking point. Not a slogan for a sign. A person in front of you.

If the last few years have left you exhausted, cynical, or just done with the version of Christianity that looks more like a voting bloc than a kingdom, connect with us this week. Bring your doubts. Bring your questions. Bring your suspicion, even. That's the whole point of the name.

Join us at All Saints, a community of all who believe, doubt, and seek. Comment below, fill out a contact card, engage through the All Saints app... or, remain anonymous and share your thoughts through the Doubters Mailbox.

And finally, listen to this week's podcast, "What Breaks Your Heart?" (Movement 6 of All Saints Vision)