Last weekend I experienced a second great Christmas program (scroll down to read about the first one). After hearing rave reviews of the pageant at Christ's Church at Mason, I drove up to Ohio to visit my parents and see the show.

The ravers were right--it was a well-done and meaningful production. But even as I enjoyed seeing the Christmas story (complete with an adorable toddler Jesus who kept his big eyes riveted on the wisemen and their entourage), I was also reminded of another kind of history.

I looked up at the stage Saturday night and recognized familiar faces in every corner: My third-grade Sunday school teacher. My mom's roommate before she was married. The woman whose lap I fell into after tripping down the stairs during my own choir concert in second grade (still a mortifying memory).

My parents have attended CCM for 25 years, not all of them happy or easy. Through three senior ministers, several capital campaigns, two buildings, and one name change my folks have slogged through the daily-ness of their own faith journey in that place, with those people.

They've taken seriously the idea that a church is a family--family with annoying cousins, dear grandparents, obnoxious nephews, the whole deal. Just as you don't quit family, the "lifers" at Mason keep serving together, choosing to love each other and tolerate each other's quirks even when it would be easier to quit.

This is not to say you should never leave a church; doctrinal shifts or other issues can mean it's time to move on. But many of the reasons often given for "church shopping" have nothing to do with such significant (and relatively rare) problems--often it's boredom with the worship service, dislike of another member or difference of opinion with a ministry direction.

Because my parents never spoke negatively about the church or its people while I grew up, I don't know if they experienced these common frustrations, but surely they did. As did the Meddings, Horsley, Phipps, Lewis, Clements and Henderson families. But they're all still there, and the result is a rich heritage. CCM continues to grow in numbers and buildings, but the long-time members enjoy a unique perspective on what it's taken to get there. And although the church is too big for "everyone to know your name," there is something priceless about a place where even a fraction have known your name for twenty years.

I've moved away, but I'm better for witnessing that kind of commitment. Because of my parents' faithfulness to their church, I not only have Christian brothers and sisters, but spiritual grandparents, aunts, and uncles. And a few annoying cousins.