Not My Pew
The Book
Sample
Chapter 7
Copywrite 2025
Chapter 7:
The Pew
Most people already know what a church pew is. Today, many churches have replaced traditional pews with chairs to allow flexible seating arrangements. But for the purpose of this book—and the meaning behind its title—we will focus on the traditional pew. Interestingly, many years ago pews weren’t meant to be sat in; you stood in them. “Many years ago, pews weren’t meant to be sat in; you stood!”
What Is a Church Pew?
Research shows that pews were long benches, often enclosed in boxes. Originally, these raised and enclosed spaces were designed for standing, not sitting. Over time, their use evolved. Early pews were not uniform like modern ones. Many were ornate, featuring special seats, prayer benches, and accessories.
A common misconception is that churches always owned their pews. Wealthy churchgoers often purchased and owned their pews. Later, institutions outside the church owned pews, making them inaccessible to the public. Some pews were even passed down through wills and became part of legal disputes. As materials became cheaper and churches could finance their own seating, pews became more standardized. Thankfully, standing is no longer required for every church member. Praise Jesus!
The Symbolism Behind “Not My Pew”
There is enough symbolism in the history above to fuel an entire sermon series. We can easily see how the idea of the “family pew” developed— “that’s Ms. Maggie’s pew,” marked by her shawl folded neatly on the seat. But our purpose is not to discuss antique pews or modern church chairs. The title Not My Pew is a deliberate play on the symbolism attached to pews. Sitting in one represented acceptance of a group’s teachings, dogma, and—most critically membership. I struggle to find that requirement in Scripture, and I will address it in a later chapter.
Why This Is Not My Pew
Many believers have declared, “This is not my pew,” by walking away from the expectations of modern Pew Owners. As noted earlier, ownership of pews shifted to the organization—just like the building, vans, gymnasiums, and other properties. Unfortunately, modern Pew Owners often extend that sense of ownership to the people sitting in them.
Several chapters will explore examples of this ownership, or “binds,” as I will call them. Walking away from one’s pew—and from the Pew Owner’s oversight—is not easy. It is often necessary, but usually only after significant mental, emotional, and spiritual pain. Guilt alone can be overwhelming. Worse still is the guilt imposed by the Pew Owner.
This guilt frequently drives people to seek another pew and another Pew Owner. The cycle repeats until, later in life, you find yourself distraught and “pew less.” Feelings of abandonment by God creep in. You begin to see no value in yourself. Sadness becomes so heavy that you weep in the quiet hours of the night.
“Feelings of abandonment by God, seeing no value in yourself, sadness sometimes so overwhelming you weep in the quiet hours of the night.”
Ask me how I know.
But dawn is coming. Like sunlight rising over the mountains, a new day is breaking. It’s time to end the cycle. I’m not telling you to find a pew and stay in it. I’m telling you to break the concept of what the pew represents—and the binds attached to it.
In the chapters ahead, I will speak boldly—and at times strongly—against the actions of Pew Owners. These actions have created a massive group of non church attendees and unaffiliated believers. I will also address my own errors and challenge you to examine the choices you made that contributed to where we now stand in this spiritual journey.
Then I will present a different viewpoint: deeply biblical, scripturally authoritative, yet refreshingly non-traditional. If you are a believer who has long said, “This is not my pew,” I invite you to walk through the next chapters with me. Some parts may make you uneasy, but if you walk patiently, you may find yourself inspired—and freed—from the old binding pew and its owner.
Not My Pew, yet still His child standing in His light… R. Clay