People have unpredictable tastes in partners. Ever notice how very short women often marry very tall men, or how the life of the party seems inexplicably attracted to the wallflower? And we onlookers muse, “What does he see in her?” Or, “I hope she knows what she’s getting herself into!”

I feel that way about Jesus sometimes. As I look at the bride He has chosen for Himself, I can’t help but question His taste. I find myself wondering, “What does He see in her?”

This is what I see.

There’s a thing we call church. It’s where we go and what we do on Sunday mornings. This is the place and these are the people with whom we talk about knowing and worshipping God, about brotherly love and about our responsibility for dying souls or bodies, or both. And although our actions seldom reach the level of our rhetoric, church is still one of the best vehicles for actually putting these things into practice.

But churches have people in them and this is the problem. People are not naturally inclined to worship God, love their brothers and care for the needy. In fact, sometimes people are dishonest, abusive, manipulative and downright nasty. And sometimes they use the church as a vehicle to put these things into practice.

Has Jesus noticed this?

Great diversity
There’s another thing we call the Church. This is different than just church, because it is not a place or a group. We talk about the Church as a combination of all the groups and movements and denominations and ministries—the people—who adhere to a certain credo and have as a mission to advance the Kingdom of God.

With a little digging we discover that the credo and mission cover a great diversity in belief and purpose. With a little more digging, we find how far we are from living up to what we say, and how much time we spend pointing out that others are not living up to what they say.

Has Jesus noticed this?

As Quebec correspondent for ChristianWeek for almost three years, I noticed. I had ample opportunity to get to know churches and the Church on this little plot on the planet. At first glance what I saw was often messy and disappointing, sometimes scandalous.

But I kept looking and listening to the people.

I have spent time talking with Tony Campolo, Wally Buono and Stephen Harper, and Ed and Allan and Joel and Ruth—people whose names count, not because we know them, but because Jesus does.

Stephanie collected used shoes for the children in Malawi when she was 16. Doris is still translating Scriptures and sending containers to Angola at 83.

Gary, Chantal, Kim, Lezoka and David are all leading groups we could call churches, reaching into their communities and cultures in new and ancient ways. They make mistakes and make progress, but mostly they make disciples.

I have met artists and musicians like Carol, Marion, Isabelle, Bernard and Johanne—creative people with a capacity to make you feel what you just can’t quite say, and say what you didn’t know you knew.

And I start to get the feeling that Jesus has noticed all of this.

Last November I met a 98-year-old woman lost in the Mission Fest parking lot. She was looking for a church and a funeral. So I took her arm, and we walked. And we talked.

“You wouldn’t understand because you’re so young,” she said. “But I love Jesus more every day. I just couldn’t live without Him.”

“He couldn’t live without you either,” I thought. People. His bride. His beautiful bride.