I walked into Tim Horton's this afternoon following a long morning meeting. Got in line, picked out my chicken salad sandwich combo, medium steeped tea, and a honey glazed muffin. I then picked my seat at an empty table, even though there were many other tables with just one person. For a moment, I pondered approaching a middle-aged gentleman sporting a walking stick and an iPhone, wondering if I could join him. I didn't. I could have been lazy, self-righteous, biased, or selfish. Maybe its a combination of all of those things. Maybe it's none of them.

Various other people walk in, get their orders, and sit by themselves. All of us pulled out our cell phones. None of us sitting with anyone else. It almost seemed that we were all trying to send an unconscious message: "I know it looks like I'm lonely, but really, I'm not. I'm just by myself for now, until I get on the phone and start having that important conversation with that critical someone in my life. In fact, my phone's contact list is proof that I belong to a community, somewhere, just not yours, and that's O.K. Plus, I'm just here to eat, NOT to connect with anyone else."

As terrifying as it was to think about it, many of us go to church like we go to Tim Horton's. We walk in on Sunday mornings, pick whatever part of the service menu we like (worship, sermon, kids' program/"free babysitting"), and sit down to have our meal. Some of us come by ourselves, some with a friend or two. Many of us struggle with the same issues: addiction, isolation, fear, doubt. Yet, we manage to put on a brave face, pass on the message that "You're O.K., then I'm O.K.", and bask in the consolation that even if church wasn't a place for us to voice our deepest longings, we could all turn to our cell phone apps of Facebook and Twitter to seek the affirmation and belonging that so many of us crave.

Week after week, we all come hoping for more than what we actually get. Kind of like how I felt when I left Tim Horton's this afternoon. Except...Tim Horton's is way more profitable at what they do. And people aren't going to Tim's for belonging, hope, redemption, or faith. They serve low end food for a low end price. That's what I go to Tim's for.

Churches, on the other hand, are meant to be so much more than a Tim's franchise. For starters, perhaps we could start each gathering by asking each person to turn to another and say: "My biggest failure this week was...AND...My biggest triumph this week was..."  Or maybe, we could ask people who are struggling financially to stand and share their need, and then invite others to stand in the "financial gap" with them. Instead of having the Lord's table as an awkward addition to the end of one monthly service, maybe we can have it as the central celebration during a monthly congregational feast.

Perhaps one of these might foster some connection between our Sunday morning "isolated" communities, perhaps none of them will. What I do know is that we gotta stop doing church like Tim Horton's, because Tim's is doing a way better job at feeding appetites, and they're making way more money doing it.