Too Much Church?

"I sacrificed my family in their growing years for the work of the church."

Brian Winton drummed his fingers irritably on the table as he glanced at the clock for the 10th time in five minutes. How could Emma and Sarah spend so long in the bathroom Lin Sabbath morn­ings? His teenage daughters seemed to have a policy of turn­ing the day of rest into a time of confrontation.

Sullen silence marked the drive to church. Carla, his wife, made only token attempts to make bright conversation, for her mind had slipped into Primary Sabbath school mode. Brian's main concern was for his role as senior deacon. He must check the windows, the toilets, the PA sys­tem and he wondered whether all his team would be there for their appointed duties.

"I know no one is indispens­able, but Brian and Carla certainly come close," the pastor had re­marked at the nominating com­mittee meeting. Brian was a member of the nominating corn­mittee and, at the time, the state­ment had caused a small glow of satisfaction.

But Brian had increasing felt the pressure of his church respon­sibilities. Besides being the senior deacon, he also served as the Pathfinder leader and he and Carla held a midweek Bible study group in their home. Sometimes it seemed that their home no longer belonged to them; people were always coming and going for meals and meetings.

The usual hectic Sabbath morning routine passed by until the Wi ntons were back in their car and heading for home. Emma and Sarah bubbled with excitement.

"Dad," Sarah said, "will you take us to the Entertainment Cen­ter tomorrow night? The Giants are playing the Wildcats and it should be a good game . . ."

"Yeah," Emma cut in. "All of the kids are going, and we'll meet for a drink afterwards. It'll be great."

"This isn't a Sabbath topic," answered Brian reprovingly. "And you all know that the board and business meeting is tomorrow night."

"Dad, you always say that," sighed Sarah.

"Come on, Dad, the church can do without you this once," Emma snapped. "They just use you anyway."

Suddenly the conversation turned sour. It was as if the dam had broken. All the pent-up fury and frustration of the two teen­agers rolled over their parents, until Brian thought his own two daughters had become the Wild­cats.

As the car rolled to a stop Sa­rah defiantly imitated her father's voice, "This isn't a Sabbath topic, you know. But as soon as I'm old enough I'm getting out of this, and then you'd better believe there won't ever be any Sabbath topics talked."

Both rear doors slammed as the girls got out of the car.

Lives of overwhelming ser­vices does not put people in the religious hall of fame.

Their stunned parents were too dismayed to move. Where had they gone wrong?

Brian and Carla had made the mistake of placing the church above the needs of their family. They had become "church­aholics." All the good that they had been doing for their church had lost its significance as they considered what was happening to their girls.

A compulsive churchaholic is a person obsessed with the need to do more and more through church work. Just as workaholics use work to avoid the responsi­bilities and problems of relation­ships, so do churchaholics. Interpersonal relationships are developed as a result of service to the church organization.

At any sign of conflict, the compulsive churchaholic retreats into church work. Here intimacy can be avoided by spending in­creasing amounts of time giving apparent, dedicated service in the belief that God applauds their ef­forts.

The activity of religion be­comes a drug. It appears to such admirable work that it makes this addiction more deceptive than most. Real addicts can't find ful­fillment at home with their fami­lies; instead, their very reason for existences seems to center around times of church worship. The opening church doors signify the opening of their hearts to the backup routines in which they engage.

Religious addicts are re­quested to serve and keep serv­ing the church. They respond by becoming involved in numerous groups, committees and meet­ings. They willingly sign up and sacrifice their family and friends to meet the system's needs. In the belief that they are serving God they allow their egos free rein, and in the worst and wrong sense, zeal for the house of God consumes them (John 2:17).

Leading lives of overwhelm­ing service that excludes all else, including family love and sup­port, does not put addicts in the religious hall of fame. Rather, it puts them in hospital or breaks relationships.

One diligent church worker reported, "I sacrificed my family in their growing years for the work of the church. I felt guilty choosing the family over the church. Consequently I missed seeing my children in some school activities and sporting events. I learned too late that the church can and does survive well with­out me."

The Christian faith is one of self-sacrifice, but carried to an extreme it can become a compul­sive act rather than an abundant life of compassion and witness.

Frequently it takes a crisis in the churchaholic's life to show such a person it is time to make a few changes. These addicts are generally very hard on them­selves and everyone else. They are driven by all-or-none thinking.

But by acknowledging that there is an imbalance in their Jives, they will be able to surren­der the process of change to God. Without such a relationship with God there is no power to change.

We're all part of the body of Christ. Hurts that occur within one family also injure the larger body of Christ. If, for example, the deacon's family is hurting and the solution is time off from his du­ties, then it is not a drain on the congregation, but should be mu­tually helpful. Besides, the con­gregation should see that tasks are shared and adjusted.