What is a house church, and what actually happens in a meeting?

One of the first questions I typically get asked about house church is: “What do your Sunday services look like?” In one way, the answer is very simple. But in another way, the concept is so foreign to most people that it requires a lot of explaining.

Each week, our churches gather in someone’s home (although any meeting place is fine). It’s typically anywhere from five to twenty-five people, including children, but we know that just two or three people gathered in Jesus’ name constitute a church (Matthew 18:20). We enjoy some initial chatter as we wait for everyone to arrive, and we seat ourselves in a circle around the room.

At the start of the meeting, we all turn the eyes of our hearts to Jesus in prayer, asking and expecting him to lead the gathering. We allow space for silence throughout our time together—not awkward silence (at least, it doesn’t have to be) but intentional. For the most part, we’ve learned to be comfortable with the silence, though it wasn’t easy at first and still isn’t always easy for me. But it is important because it leaves room for the Holy Spirit to dictate what happens next.

As each person feels led to share something that God is stirring up in them, we encourage and expect one another to do so. Each of us does our best to share whatever gift from the Holy Spirit is at work in us that day. In the same way, we may perceive that the Spirit is not prompting us to say anything, in which case, we faithfully remain quiet.

So, for example, here’s what a normal gathering in my home might look like.

I call everyone’s attention to let them know that we’re getting started. I open with prayer, welcoming the Lord to lead us, and only praying as I feel prompted by the Holy Spirit. As I sense that it’s time for me to finish praying, I fall silent, leaving space for others to discern if the Spirit is prompting them to share.

Perhaps someone feels a desire to pray more. Believing the Spirit of God stirs these desires within them, they pray out loud so that we can all join them in agreement. A couple more people might pray, and then someone’s prayer stirs someone else to start singing. If we know the words, we all join in. After the song, there may be another song, or we may sit in silence again, waiting on the Lord to move through someone else.

At this point, someone might share a revelation they received that week or a testimony of something God is doing in their life. That inspires more prayers of thanksgiving and worship. Maybe someone has a scripture on their heart, so they read it, and this causes someone else to share a verse that comes to mind.

As each of these things occurs, we may start to see a theme arise and perceive what the Lord wants to teach us that morning.

Often, I will feel led to teach, but I am always waiting for the Spirit to give me clarity, and I am willing to remain silent if I am not confident that my teaching will build up the church that day. The question is not whether what I have to say is true, you see. The question is whether what I have to say is what God has to say that morning. If it isn’t what God is saying to our church in that moment, then I want nothing to do with it in that moment. We’re not in the business of tickling ears and puffing each other up with knowledge, but of ministering Christ, who is alive. Therefore, I’m always trying to discern whether Christ wants to say anything specifically through me, and this is what others are trying to discern for themselves, as well. We’ll talk more extensively about this discernment process in the next chapter.

Sometimes I sense that others in the gathering have gone full-on “spectator mode” and are idly waiting for me to speak, since I’m the “leader,” and that’s what they’ve been trained to do. Instead, they should be looking to their true Shepherd, Teacher, and Leader (who is Christ). When I sense this, I will try to avoid teaching with my mouth because I am trying to point them away from relying on me and toward Christ. Any God-appointed shepherd should understand that this is ultimately their role. I tell them, “If it doesn’t look like I’m leading, that is my leading. If it doesn’t look like I’m teaching, that is my teaching.” Again, here, silence is important.

Besides me, others may also teach. It just depends on what we discern God is doing that day. And usually, teachings turn into open conversations that turn into prayer for one another and so forth.

A very important aspect of all of this is that whatever is said is liable to be weighed by the others who are present. If someone has a concern about something that was said, then it’s their duty to speak honestly about what they perceive so that everyone in the gathering might weigh the differing perceptions and seek to find unity on the matter. We’ll talk about this practice of collective discernment in greater detail later.

Last, but certainly not least, we enjoy the Lord’s Supper together every week. This is not out of obligation—we do not believe there is a law around this—but out of a genuine desire for it and faith that it benefits our souls. No matter what else occurs, the Lord’s Supper ensures the gospel is always proclaimed.

In the church that I lead, this gathering normally lasts about two hours, but it will often go a little longer. One of the other churches regularly meets for over three hours. (They’re the more “charismatic” bunch.) The length isn’t particularly relevant except that it’s not predetermined. If God’s still moving, we want to be sensitive enough to realize it and not end the meeting prematurely. But on the flip side, if God has done all he wants to do in that setting, it doesn’t make us any less holy to end a little earlier than usual.

What I’ve shared here is only an example of what a gathering could look like because, again, God is in control, and it’s different every time. There’s no prescribed structure to our gatherings, except that when we don’t know what is next, we always turn our eyes to the Lord and wait on him.

In theory, there’s no reason that an entire gathering couldn’t be filled with one kind of activity. For example, what if God has one person on his mind who he wants to bless that day? So he stirs them to share their struggles at the beginning of the gathering, and we spend the rest of the time ministering to that person—speaking truth into their life, praying over them, etc. Is that a waste of a Sunday because we didn’t have a sermon or a lesson of some kind? Or was the “sermon” actually in the various scriptures that were shared, expounded upon, and applied to this person’s unique situation? Was the lesson in how the person was so humble to ask for help, or how someone corrected their thinking with such love and gentleness, or how not to take offense when someone ministers to you poorly? If God was the one leading our time together, then wasn’t it actually what we all needed and desired more than anything?

You can apply this principle to any of the various activities that could happen in our gatherings, and it holds true: a meeting with only prayer and worship, a meeting with just Scripture and discussion, etc. I’m not saying this happens often. I’m only making a point that God, at his sole discretion, gets to decide what we do. And if we believe that this is what God is doing in us, then why would we want anything else?

In this, we are learning that we don’t have to force things like teaching, singing, Scripture reading, etc. We don’t need to create an agenda—in fact, we largely resist it—because if we just learn to be faithful with sharing the grace given to each of us, then all these things will happen naturally, and the church will be built up as God intends. In other words (like we talked about in the first chapter), we’ll have fruitful ministry, and it’ll be from rest, not striving, all to the glory of God.

The weekly gathering, then, is ground zero for learning the way of the Spirit, for equipping the saints, for discipleship, as it provides a setting where waiting on the Lord and building up the Body of Christ are actually encouraged and practiced in real-time by all members. It benefits the Church far less to spend this time together (the only time that many Christians gather) in such a way as to force and train the majority to be mostly docile.

The only thing I might add to this (which many members of my own church still need to learn, as well) is that it is best not to wait for the gathering to pray about what to do/share in the gathering. It is far better for everyone to be praying for the church throughout the week and (with the vision we talked about in the last chapter) asking the Lord what they can offer to help build up their brothers and sisters on Sunday. If members don’t spend any time throughout the week preparing themselves for the gathering this way, it’s not the end of the world, but you will likely spend a lot of unnecessary time in silence together waiting on the Lord to speak, which could have been done in private. Sometimes, when there is a lot of silence in our gatherings, it exposes that people need to grow in the areas of prayer, stewarding their gifts, and taking responsibility for one another. Having the forethought and intentionality to wait on the Lord in your own time for the sake of others is an act of love and maturity that will lead to more fruitful, Spirit-filled gatherings.