“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them” (Matthew 18:20, NIV).

I was having breakfast with two Christian doctor friends. One of them described the day his younger brother Luther died from cholangiocarcinoma. The family was at the bedside holding vigil. Luther was the pastor of a local church, but none of his church members were in the home. As the family watched over the one they loved, they began to hear beautiful song surrounding the house. Luther’s church had gathered outside and were singing his favorite worship songs as his family handed him off to heaven.

When we suffer great loss, we need the church. When we celebrate joyful events, we need the church. When we worship God, we need the church. When we seek a road to follow, we need the church. We need the church.

We hear it said: “Were I the only soul that needed saving, Jesus would have died for me.” Perhaps that’s true, but He certainly died for His bride, the church. I was not saved alone, nor will I ever fulfill God’s mission for my life alone. I cannot be what God wants me to be without the church. I cannot do what He created me to do without the church. I cannot bear the burdens of life without the church. We were made for each other as a church, “both a hospital and an army for Christ,” as Dr. Richard Swenson said. Christ died for me as an individual, but He gave me a “new birth into a living hope” (1 Peter 1:3, NIV) within His church, where He means for us to march together as we heal each other’s wounds and storm the gates of hell.

Just this week I felt this truth anew. My breakfast time with two Christian doctors, my encounter with another in the hallways of the hospital, my morning with brothers and sisters at Sunday church, all changed me into a person more like Jesus. I examined my life against theirs, listened to words I needed to hear and understood grace, mission and presence more than I did a week ago.

In this world of vacation homes, Sunday sports, internet church and just plain laziness, we tend to drift away from community, confident as individual children of God; however, we do so risking the joy of our faith and our effectiveness as God’s people. I need to remove that infectious independence from my life. I need to be more vigorously intentional about gathering with God’s people both for my blessing and His glory.

Dear Father,

Let me not risk my blessing and mission by trying to walk with you alone.

Amen