On the Mechanics of Church.

Perhaps eventually there will be a more linear thematic development to these presently meandering thoughts, but for now, and especially as I'm new to this, I'm simply sharing the thoughts that rouse me to write.

I'm trying to continue going to church while I'm abroad. Have I mentioned yet that I'm abroad? I guess it doesn't much matter since I have yet to mention where I'm from, or where is home, which are not necessarily the same thing, nor am I confident that I could reveal either within any relevant confines of certainty, so suffice it to say I'm living abroad for at least a year and am just recently attending a church where I am.
It's a Pentecostal Church, not that divisions of unity, such as denominations, are anything I'm especially fond of, nonetheless they exists and it is at this particular church where I will probably be going on Sunday afternoons for the reason that it is convenient, and not too far removed in any significant sense from what I'm accustomed to.
There is one problem that I frequently wrestle with in going to church, however, and I am encountering this issue in full force at this particular church.
This church is run with the stalwart efficiency of a well-oiled machine, if you'll pardon the cliche, in that it adheres to a strict schedule, enforces certain preferences regarding seating, and has instituted a class for newcomers wishing to become a greater part of the church community. Some could read this and see much sense in any of these established edifices of order, however they always reek to me of people's efforts to control the things of God, or in others words, religion.
The church in which I grew up so to speak, at least spiritually, seemed to express to me that "religion" was a dirty word. When I first attended this church, meetings had no time-frame, little structure, but maintained a surprising semblance of order within the other elements of chaos, often lasting hours, with frequent distractions, interruptions, every manner of movement, posture and person present in the sanctuary, and it really was a freeing experience to be a part of, but the end result is that I feel pretty spoiled in the freedoms I expect in churches. Freedoms that even the above church began to infringe upon after some years of attendance there, where conformity began to be more highly regarded, where order began to be more stringently enforced, where attendance became restricted to a more homogeneous crowd, and unwittingly or purposefully, an agenda became the priority.
I find myself wondering what the value is of a community that is so guarded and gated as to have each member become nearly indistinguishable from an other. This is an extreme instance, and I cannot in good conscience accuse any congregation of being quite so far gone as that, but there always seems to be a tenuous balance between freedom and control that I don't think really exists in God. Why then does it exists in church?
I feel most comfortable these days thinking of church as a walk through a forest, a climb up a mountain, a day at a beach, or a time in the desert. In any of these places I'd prefer the company of good people, but the reason behind these out of door cathedrals would simply be the freedom from the stifling controls that people always seem to place on God, in worship, through amplification, through messages with rows upon rows of heads nodding in quiet agreement, or in some cases, not so quiet but appropriately truncated affirmations, of bulletins, announcements, classes, meetings, and all the other elements that turn faith into works, as seems to be the end result of almost every endeavor people have to control the things of God.
I'm not saying church is bad. I think church is extremely important. However I think it may be time to re-redefine church. The church is a body (made of larger parts, or smaller cells). The church is a family (comprised of members). The church are the branches of a vine, the church are the holy ones of God, the church is only a building so long as it is made of living stones erected upon the cornerstone of Christ. Being a member of a church, or better yet, the Church is not supposed to stifle our originality but enable us to be the freest we can be as Christ shines through us individually to create a unified image of God corporately. It's like the picture of one thing that is made up of the myriad individual pictures of many things; sometimes they share a theme, sometimes they are just brought together, but it is always with an expressed purpose to make a greater joint image of which each individual is a part, a shade, a contour, a hue, but all essential to the overall greater impression.
We have yet to reach an age of living machines, and so there still exists an innate conflict between the living and the mechanical, and I don't think that a bionic church should be our foremost expression of who we are in community. The mechanic machinations of church would be better grafted onto the tree of life, where it will be tended, pruned, and in turn blossom and bear fruit.

This could just be a pet peeve. This could be something more. I don't feel it's finished, but our respective attention spans probably are.

- TPS