On January 17, 1993, I was baptized into Christ. I had no previous affiliation with any religious sect, so the baptism marked my first meaningful exposure to Jesus Christ’s church. At the time, I was a 22- year old graduate student at Florida State University. I was interested in meeting other Christians in my age group, so I later joined a congregation on campus with a "ministry" for college students. Over the course of the year, I learned much about "church life" and much about those who profess to follow Christ.

Between the time I graduated from FSU and my arrival in Montgomery, I had already visited several congregations (all of them in my hometown Atlanta). Though I was a recent convert, I quickly realized many places which had the obligatory "Church of Christ" sign in the front lawn were not as close to New Testament Christianity as I thought they might be. On Sunday mornings, I would worship with several hundred people, and listen to speeches reminiscent of Yogi Berra or Dale Carnegie. I could leave church buildings sometimes and not even be greeted by anyone, in spite of the large crowds.

I was disgusted because it seemed Christianity was just a social thing for people. They would come to the building, greet their friends, have their fun, talk a bit about spiritual things, and then go back to their secular lives. Quite a few worship services had some activities that were utterly irrelevant to my needs. I was lonely and hurting. I needed to worship God, hear edifying teaching, and have some meaningful fellowship with Christians. What was I served? An honor ceremony for college students, a fund-raiser with a slide show, a program where Bibles were handed to the member’s kids, etc. I was also taken aback by all the hoopla over hand-picked directors, ministers, and volunteers who did everything through high-brow programs. It seemed the rest of the congregation were merely content to sit back and cheer the "leaders" on with their check-books open.

I heard church members talk about "diversity." Of course, they meant doctrinal diversity. As for real diversity (Col. 3:11), they were not much into that. I had seen much more worldly affluence and materialism that I cared to see. In one instance, I remember sitting in a church classroom while two other men talked about their careers and various pursuits. One fellow bragged about his $90K salary, while the other smiled contentedly. Finally, after wasting most of the hour, they turned to me and talked about religion. They gave me a paternalistic grin as they explained that they were not hung up on issues (like denominational error, women preachers, etc.). Indeed they weren’t; their church didn’t even seem to be hung up on "core" issues, like showing love for strangers or a having humble, Christ-like attitude. After I moved from Atlanta to Montgomery, I did not want to have anything to do with big churches. I dreaded having to face the same religious schmaltz again. After all, in Montgomery, there seemed to be a "Church of Christ" on every street corner. Who knew what I would find?

At work, I had access to some books written by Christians. I would pick up hard copies of debates between such preachers as Roy Cogdill and Guy N. Woods, flip through the pages, and look at the arcane diagrams with arrows and boxes flying all over place. I would think to myself, "What is the big deal?!" Finally I told one of my elders that I intended to study the "institutionalism" issue. He gave me an out-of print book and a notebook of debate charts by A.C. Grider.

As I looked over these materials, I began to understand what "the big deal" was. This was after the local preacher talked to me one day about determining Bible authority for whatever Christians do. I read with interest about the religious inconsistencies among those pushing for projects like "sponsoring churches," church-supported orphans homes and colleges, etc. I read how people with non-institutional convictions were intimidated, threatened, kicked out of the church building, etc. I read about how the church is a divine institution that stands alone and sufficient to do that which Christ assigned to it. It must be noted that some of the material I read was a bit vitriolic in tone, which is lamentable. Nonetheless, my view of the "mean old antis" started to change.

Ultimately, the books were not enough. It’s one thing to tell someone to read something like Roy Cogdill’s "Walking by Faith," it’s quite another to be prepared to defend one’s own beliefs (2 Tim. 2:15). If I was to change my mind on any doctrinal matter, then it would have to be done with God’s inspired word. Furthermore, I couldn’t just be handed a bunch of pat, canned interpretations; I would have be convinced with a credible, straightforward exegesis of the Bible. Over time, and through my own study, I found these things to be true:

1. Besides the universal church (Mt. 16:17-19; 1 Cor. 12:12-27), there were local congregations in the first century (Rom. 16:16; 1 Cor. 14:33).

2. None of the congregations mentioned in the Bible, however, tried to dictate to others what to do with their resources. No governing body had oversight over a group of churches; rather elders exercised authority in autonomous congregations (Acts 14:26; I Pet. 5:1-3).

3. There were limits on what Christians and congregations could do for others (2 Th. 3:10; 1 Tim. 5:16).

4. There was a distinction made between individual Christians and congregations of Christians (1 Tim. 5:16). This distinction included expectations that God had of both parties. Congregational responsibilities were clearly designated as such. Other activities, such aiding non-saints, were assigned to individual Christians in general (e.g., Eph. 4:28; Gal. 6:10; Jas. 1:27).

5. The church never had a non-church organization carry out its duties. There were no missionary societies, seminaries, or charitable organizations overseeing finances for benevolence, evangelism, etc. If the New Testament Church could do what God asked of it, then why not now? Or do we think what God has given us is insufficient (2 Peter 1:3)?

6. There is a consistent and authoritative pattern in the New Testament governing the use and distribution of congregational resources (2 Tim. 1:13; 1 Cor. 11:1-2; 1 Cor. 16:1). In a nutshell, churches in the Bible did as God specified: supported evangelism (Phil. 4:15-18; 1 Cor. 9:7-14), spiritual edification (1 Cor. 14:26), and benevolence for the saints (1 Cor. 16:1-3; 1 Tim. 5:16). No more, no less (1 Cor. 4:6). Should we not do the same?

What’s the personal application for me? Well, I’ve been around people who say you can’t have a piano playing in the church auditorium on Sunday morning because the Bible says we are to sing. They assert that the Bible teaches by command, approved apostolic example of actions in the New Testament, and things necessarily inferred by logic. Given what I know, I thus suppose I should try to be consistent about what I believe. I’ve come to the point where I don’t think I’ll ever be a member of a church that embraces institutionalism. Someone my ask "Isn’t that hair-splitting?" Granted, I know a lot of good Christians who disagree with my views on what a congregation of Christians can or cannot do; often, they put me to shame by the exemplary lives they lead. Their churches may be sincere about Bible authority and at times may be more Christ-like than some supposed "sound non-institutional" churches.

That said, I can only view the megachurch phenomenon as being the logical end of institutional practices. When a church decides to melt into the social fabric of the surrounding society by focusing on social issues (civic charity, recreation, politics, secular education, etc.), it becomes no more than a civic club paying lip service to Jesus. Institutionalism is a spiritual distraction which opens the door for spiritual decay; I have personally witnessed this time after time. When Bible authority is overlooked in one area, other areas soon follow. That is why, in many churches, the teaching seems to be more humanistic than godly.

My heart goes out to those in institutional churches who are trying to serve lord the best they know how. Still, when something affects a corporate activity such as worship and when Christians have conscientious objections about what the Bible says, then there will always be more than one church in town (to put it politely). A unity that is based on a unscriptural concept is one I cannot endorse, especially when that unity involves a violation of church autonomy. True, as a human being susceptible to error and sin, I do not claim to have perfect knowledge of the Bible. Maybe I am mistaken about some things, but the question remains: What in good conscience can I do as a Christian, given what I perceive the Bible teaches? That, ultimately, is the question that every Christian must decide for himself on this side of eternity (Rom. 14:26; Phil. 2:12-13; Jas. 4:17; 2 Cor. 5:10).