VillagePastor

Making Church Uncomfortable

I’m on a 24 hr personal retreat to clear my head—and heart. I usually take way too many books, perhaps a defense against idle time. But then, I realize when I arrive that retreats are about unoccupied time. Nonetheless, I soon became captivated with a recent book, “Jim and Casper Go to Church”. Jim is 59, a believer who is an executive director. Casper is younger, a marketing copywriter, with a world view vastly different than Jim’s. Casper is an atheist. Together they embarked on journey to visit twelve churches, from fundamental to Pentecostal, from Saddleback to Willow to Mosaic, to coming to Portland and attending Imago Dei and The Bridge. The book is a collection of their impressions, with an emphasis on how an atheist sees the contemporary church.

I read this because, as a pastor, I am really interested in how those outside the faith view the church and its culture. I realize that those on the outside can be critical of the church (not to mention those on the inside!). But those on the outside, like Casper, can often see with a clarity that those of us on the inside, immersed in church culture, gradually lose.

What Casper observed was not too surprising. In most of the services they attended (and these are the churches that often get the press), worship came off as “slick”, “contrived”, and “professional”. To Casper, Christians seem to put most of their energies in putting on a killer show. Of one encounter with a well known pastor, Casper commented, “It seemed as if he was not listening, so much as trying to control the conversation.” (Ouch!) Casper also wondered why the 11:00 hour seems to be the most segregated moment of the week. Churches do not do too well at integrating ethnically, let alone generationally, though they preach unity, and this atheist was quick to observe the discrepancy. He also could not understand why, for all the posturing, all the declarations about the nature of God’s word, that it played such a minimal role in most of the preaching he heard. Sadly, the famine in all too many places continues.

But here is what struck me. Casper found himself often asking—where is the call for action?  If Christians believe everything Scripture declares, they would want to do something significant on earth. Pastors would be these clarion voices calling for people to rise and change things. The only real call to action Casper observed, and it ranged from fearless to relentless, was—“Give us money—and lots of it!”

I began asking myself, “So am I calling people to action?” And if it is too often missing, is it because I am afraid to put off people? Am I not taking the Word seriously, that the text always calls for some response, almost always calls for radical change? What if I preached Ephesians 3, declaring that one of our most compelling witnesses to the truth of the gospel is that, in Christ, Jew and Gentile, Anglo and Hispanic, 20 somethings and those of an older generation can, must love and embrace each other? And then I asked—so what are we going to do in light of this truth? What will be your first step? What if I gave a call to action—“Open up your home this week and show hospitality to someone of another ethnicity”?  And if you are unwilling—I am not preaching Ephesians 4 till we get it right! What if I preached the story of Matthew inviting Jesus to his pagan party and challenged all of us to show grace like Jesus, such that we get invited to the world’s parties? What if I made it a call to action? Recently, I preached out of I Cor 5, where Paul calls for the handing over of a sinner to Satan. What if I called the people to action—to take those who are unwilling to repent and give them over?

Maybe people would get upset. Or maybe people would enter worship with crash helmets, realizing that are about to enter into high risk territory, where the word is going to call for some action that will lead to becoming more like Jesus. And maybe those on the outside, like Casper, would say—perhaps there is something here in the church that has the ring of truth and authenticity. They really believe what they are hearing from God.

Living the Cruciformed Life Among the Elite

I have not been prepared for the course Paul’s letter to Corinth is taking me. His letter to this elitist church is filled with both passion and sarcasm. And it has caused me to do some hard thinking about present culture, about my own life choices. So much of what Paul faced in Corinth—celebrity worship, factionalism, and elitism—are the very things that make up much of present culture, both within and without the church.

If you question this, than pick up Michael Lindsay’s Faith in the Halls of Power: How Evangelicals Joined the American Elite. In it, he traces a movement that once was on the periphery, but now wields power—from Washington to Hollywood to Wall Street. Lindsay, who is a sociologist from Rice University, interviewed a number of leaders, and has come to the conclusion that while evangelicals have not grown substantially, their influence has. And while we evangelicals might rejoice in this, I wonder, “At what cost?”

In his chapter, “From Protest to Patronage,” Lindsay writes these disturbing words: “As I found, evangelicals in Hollywood differ little from others in the entertainment industry. They drive luxury cars, live in exclusive communities, and worry that their fame and talent will evaporate overnight. And the evangelical movement does look more like mainstream society. Ministry leaders resemble corporate executives, calling themselves ‘chairman and chief executive officer’ rather than ‘pastor’ or ‘chaplain.’”

The parallels with Corinth are scary. As he continues on, suddenly I am reading I Corinthians 1-4 as it looks today—“Indeed, American evangelicalism contributes to a cult of personality with movement leaders elevated to iconic status, despite biblical injunctions for modesty and humility.” Lindsay shares his own experience—“I once was backstage at a large meeting for evangelicals, where the various entourages—and their sycophantic behavior—seemed more appropriate for a rock concert or political rally than a meeting for church people. The evangelical publishing world and contemporary Christian music have fed this hero worship…indeed, the very existence of such a thing as a ‘Christian celebrity’ shows how evangelicals have adopted the practices of secular society.”

Paul intentionally chose to live out Christ, to be a cruciformed life. That is, to live a life shaped in the form of the Cross. And he ended up, as he puts it in I Corinthians 4, like those condemned to death, the scum of the earth, the dregs of society. And it raises questions—questions that cause unease, at least for me. “Can a person, who truly intends to conform to Jesus, in both His death and resurrection, end up in the halls of power?  Was Paul’s experience God’s specific calling for him, the result of being an apostle? Or is Paul telling us something—that when you choose to be like Jesus, to come to a place where you say—“I determined to know nothing among you, except Jesus Christ and Him crucified,” you will most likely not be invited into the club of the elite? And if you get there, the radical nature of your life will not allow you to remain for long.