The other day I read an article about the Cuban church, in which a house church was mentioned.  What struck me about this particular group of believers was the minimalism of their weekly meeting — one basic hymn printed in manila folders, prayer, and corporate reading of the promises of God “out of a small wooden box of cards.”

I recognize that this is not the norm in most American churches.  I’m not saying that it should be.

However, thinking about that small group of my Cuban brothers and sisters naturally made me compare their weekly gathering to the many I have attended throughout my life.  And I began to ponder our motivations for “going to church” in the first place. 

It was clear to me why that group of thirteen men and women gathered in a home each week.  It is not always clear to me why we do the same.

After the lights are shut off,

After the microphones are turned off,

After the music has stopped,

After the gifted preacher has given the benediction,

Did we find what we came for? 

Does it even matter?

Why did we come?

For whom did we come?

For ourselves?

For others?

For Him.

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