We Won't See You, You'll See Us

Recently, I saw a video advertising upcoming revival services that will soon be held at a large church. I'm not going to post the video here, because inevitably that will only lead people who support that church to think that I am speaking out specifically against that church, which obscures my actual intent. It was a brief video that showed the pastoral staff discussing their plans and why you should join them at the revival services. Apart from my scepticism towards the idea of being able to plan a revival, there was a statement that caught my attention. While concluding his statements, the head pastor said "We'll see you at [the revival]...well, we won't see you, you'll see us."

That statement was like a bolt of  lightning suddenly illuminating my thoughts. The second I heard it, I realized that he just summed up my greatest problem and sorrow with the practice of many American Evangelical churches today. "We won't see you, you'll see us." The words fell heavy on my heart. Not because I disagree with that pastor, but because those sentiments seem to be at odds with the essence of the person of Jesus as described in the gospels. Of course, Jesus did preach to crowds, but throughout the gospels, we see him stopping to provide individual attention to many that were largely ignored by both society at large and the religious leaders of the day. The core command to love others as God loves us seemed to lie not in merely preaching to them about the gospel, but in making personal connections with them, listening to them, and doing what you can to help them. As I read the gospels, I see a Jesus that seemed to relish in those moments where he could reveal the love of God to individuals in clear contrast to the religious legalism of the day.

The teachings of the Bible seem to reinforce that point. You look at the references to caring for the poor, the widowed, the orphans. In Matthew we are told to "make disciples." Jesus didn't simply tell his 12 disciples to make a decision to follow him and walk away once they did. He spent time with them and invested in their lives. It wasn't just about them seeing him, it was about him seeing them. The New Testament enshrines the idea of servant leadership, that whoever wants to be the greatest should make himself the least. It tells us that the greatest love is that which lays down its life for others.

Now I understand what this pastor meant...that the services will be so large that he will not see people individually, although they will see him. I know he wasn't trying to dismiss people through such a statement. But he did. Unfortunately, the trend is that many choose their churches based on who they see, not who sees them. Head pastors are put up on a pedestal. In my own community there is an extremely large church who proposed breaking apart to plant a new church due to their size, so they could maintain smaller more intimate settings. The congregation refused, largely because should they break into two churches the majority wanted to stay with the current pastor and wouldn't agree to leave. Because of that, they spent their money to rebuild a massive church, one able to seat the entire population of my hometown (around 5,000) in a single service. Instances such as this make me wonder if congregations have bought into the false idea that they are there to see the church/pastors. But the beauty of the gospel is that Jesus loved and met people individually. It was in those intimate moments that he revealed his true nature, and what would come next. Some of the most profound parts of the gospel were never shouted from the rooftops, but taught among small groups of devotees.

"We won't see you, you'll see us" enshrines this concept of church as entertainment or self-help seminar. It is that ideology that launches mission trips filled with dramas and VBS programming, but does little to care for the needs of the communities to which they travel. It is that ideology that causes churches to seek to quantify their work and speak of success primarily in terms of numbers. When it is their job to see you, you have placed the burden on others to seek out the church and discover if they can find the help or fulfillment they are looking for there. You have redefined the role of church as a marketing firm rather than a service industry. I just don't see that taught as our ideal anywhere within the gospels. Jesus didn't preach to the masses and say "Find a religious institution. Enjoy their amazingly relevant preaching and cutting edge worship to feed your soul. Be sure to join a small group in order to make sure that you have a more intimate community."  Jesus didn't preach to us to find intimate community once we were involved with a group of other believers because the natural result of a gathering of followers of Christ should be building a more intimate community. Contrary to popular belief, community is best established not through shared viewpoints, but is the natural result of valuing people over programs or doctrine. No amount of programming or brand marketing will be an adequate substitute for that. It is an ideal that is simply not found within "We won't see you, you'll see us."

Hearing that pastor express such a sentiment, suddenly clarified my discontent with American Evangelical Culture. I don't believe in a gospel that is there to be seen. I believe in a gospel that sees and loves others. I don't want a church that exists in the midst of massive marketing campaigns trying to bring everyone to itself. I want a church that meets people, not to grow its own numbers, but to serve them in the example of Jesus Christ, because they believe that is the core purpose of church - putting others' needs ahead of your own. In a world where people are increasingly simply labeled as part of a certain group or statistic, isn't about time that we started seeing them as valued individuals rather than insisting that they see us?

Missing Advent - In Defense of the Church Calendar

Just before Christmas I saw a video of a hip hop dance/rap group performing during a church service. Although they were extremely talented, it really bothered me. My first thought was "That's not how you observe Advent." Apart from the major observances such as Easter and Christmas, I found very few Evangebapticostal churches that followed a church calendar. The observance of Advent is one of the major reasons I returned to a more liturgical tradition. Christmas just never seemed the same without that focus, preparation, and contemplation. I genuinely missed Advent.

Perhaps the only thing as enjoyable as pleasant experiences is the anticipation of those experiences. That is what Advent is...a season of anticipation. It is a season of quiet contemplation. It is a time where you not only reflect on the darkness, but hope for the coming of a great light. It is a time of somber preparation. When I was living in the land of Evangelicals, the Christmas season seemed to be a time of constantly singing and proclaiming that a savior has come to Earth. Every week was "Jesus is here. Jesus is here. Jesus is here." In the liturgical Lutheran tradition, each week was "Keep looking. Keep hoping. Don't give up. Your savior will come. Just hold on a little longer." until finally it becomes "God has kept His promise."

Each week for the four weeks leading up to the Christmas celebration a candle is lit as you anticipate the coming of the Savior, each with its own specific meaning.



Week 1:  The Prophecy Candle or The Candle of Hope
This candle symbolizes our belief in a God who will keep His promises.

Week 2: The Bethlehem Candle or The Candle of Preparation
This candle reminds us to prepare ourselves to receive the gift God is about to give.

Week 3: The Shepherd Candle or The Candle of Joy
This candle represents the great joy of the angels who announced the birth of Jesus to the shepherds.

Week 4: The Angel Candle or The Candle of Love
This candle reminds us that God so loved the world that he sent his only son.

The 5th Candle (Christmas): The Christ Candle
The final candle obviously represents the fulfilled promise of the coming of Christ.



But overall, I think these sum up what the entire Christmas season is truly about: 
Hope, Preparation, Joy, Love, Christ.

More than just Advent, I feel the entire church calendar keeps a flow to worship that encourages honesty in our spiritual experiences. Let me try to explain what I mean.

Have you ever known that one person that always smiles and tries to say how great things are even when the strain and near twitching of the muscles in the corners of their mouth and the slight dullness in their eyes betrays them? If you've spent anytime in American Evangelical Culture, I'm willing to bet that you do. Far too many churches within that culture promote this idea of constant happiness, never being lonely, always feeling loved, not being depressed, and never feeling abandoned if you are truly following Christ. They leave very few options for those in their congregation that feel otherwise. If they accept such beliefs, the only conclusions they are left with are: a)  it is a failure of their own faith  b) they should never let on how they feel, but just keep up happy appearances until they are "right with God." or c) they obviously don't belong in the church.

Which if any of these is consistent with biblical teaching? If you said "none of the above," I would have to agree. I have this theory. (If you know me at all, you'll soon realize that my overly analytical way of thinking lends itself to the development of many theories.) What is the mood of nearly any given American Evangelical Culture Church on almost any Sunday of the year? One of constant emotional hype, whether in the form of upbeat overly sugarcoated praise songs, or slower songs that often result in tears of joy thinking of what God has done. The congregation always seems to be either waving their hands in air in exuberance or on their knees thanking God for all He's done.

Let me be absolutely clear that I don't think there is anything wrong with those types of experiences in and of themselves. What I do think is wrong, and where I feel this culture fosters a practice of dishonesty, is that these are virtually the ONLY widely accepted emotional expressions of worship. It becomes a one note song.

What the church calendar does is guide congregations through various seasons. Some are joyful, some are thankful, some are preparatory, some are somber, and some are quiet and reflective. Easter is another great example of this. Does it make a lot of sense to be singing about Jesus conquering death on Good Friday? Or would that time better be spent thinking of the distress and sorrow of his disciples at such a time and confronting the areas in our own lives where we wonder if God will actually keep His promises?

Just as life has a range of emotions an experiences, so does the practice of liturgical worship that follows the church calendar. I don't feel happy and like rejoicing all the time, but the liturgical year doesn't demand that of me. And as I read the Bible, I find many like minded souls writing of ALL their emotional experiences whether grateful, doubtful, joyful, sad, angry, or disappointed with God. So why have we accept worship that doesn't allow   encourage that same level of emotional honesty?

I think there are a lot more people than we may realize that are desperate to hear their church say "Keep looking. Keep hoping. Don't give up. Hold on just a little longer."  and to allow them to meet God not in the confines of the parameters they have set for Him, but in the midst of their raw and sometimes ugly emotions.

Thinking Out Loud, Explaining my Absence, & Loving/Hating Christmas

I haven't posted anything here is months. It's not that I'm giving up on the endeavor. It's just that sometimes I hit this point where I wonder if I'm adding anything beneficial to the conversation. I guess that when I think of the American church culture and the manner in which it functions, it can often seem beyond repair. It is a labyrinth of fun house mirrors in which everything has been distorted for so long that no one seems to notice anymore.

This isn't about my lack of faith in Christianity. It's about my constant contemplation as to whether what has manifested itself as organized religion in the USA actually is Christianity. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that this question is often one that occupies my mind. That very question was a major catalyst for the creation of this blog. I think the entire problem is magnified by the Christmas season.

I'm coming to terms with the fact that I have a love-hate relationship with Christmas. I do certainly love the aesthetic of the season...lights reflecting off of fresh snow, the warm glow of candlelight, lush greenery and ornaments that trace family history. Theologically speaking, the core of this holiday is awe inspiring. I love the concept of reflecting on the idea that divinity can be wrapped within humanity, that out of great darkness a light can come, and that there was a moment when heaven and earth collided. Just stop and think about those things for a minute. Such ideas lead to beautiful quiet and peaceful contemplation indeed. The near futile, but beautiful experience of trying to prepare your heart to hold onto those concepts. It's one of the many reasons that Advent has always been one of my favorite seasons on the church calendar. But I look at everything around me and realize that the manner in which we celebrate does very little to reflect those ideas.

For far too many, this season is one of stress, fatigue, and picking petty fights over minor issues. (I've already told you how I feel about the "War on Christmas.") I hear people around me demanding that we "keep Christ in CHRISTmas," yet I can't help but wonder if he's ever really been part of what we're doing here. Outside of the focus on charity, I see very little of the gospel in the hustle and bustle that is passing me by. I keep searching for that beauty, finding mostly imitation, but I can't stop searching because I know it is here somewhere.

The more I think about what it would truly mean to celebrate the full implications of the Christmas story, the more I realize that we don't. I don't have a way to reconcile this. There is no conclusion to this post. But I would encourage you to withdraw from the chaos, take a moment for quiet contemplation, and consider these awe inspiring theological questions along with me.

Terrible T-Shirt Tuesday: Tact Is For Heathens Edition

c28.com

The appropriation of another community's sacred cultural items (or your own interpretation of those items) to promote your own agenda is bad enough. (More on that here.) However, today's edition of Terrible T-Shirt Tuesday also comes with  history lesson, so you can realize just how terrible it actually is.

Why is Everything Ministry?

Sometimes I think American Evangelical Culture tries too hard. Okay, pretty much ALWAYS I think that. Not just in the ways that they try to make worship like a rock concert, follow fashion trends (even if they are a few years behind), or talk in supposedly "relatable" language. I think they try too hard in the manner that they try to make everything into an excessively spiritual endeavor.

Basically anything you could ever possibly volunteer to do in a church will likely be labeled a "ministry." Raking leaves on the property? Lawncare Ministry. Baking bars or cookies for coffee hour? Hospitality Ministry. Helping pick up the bulletins people left in the pews after service?  Pew Cleaning Ministry. Answering phones at the front desk? Welcoming Ministry. Taking photos of kids at VBS for the church newsletter? Photography Ministry. Poking the people around you every time they start to nod off during the service? Alertness Ministry. (Okay, so maybe I made the last one up, but it seriously would not surprise me.)

It's not that any of these are bad things, but should they be labeled a ministry? Is the term used so flippantly that we don't really know what it means anymore?  Technically speaking, the early model of "ministry" in denominations encompassed only the official functions of the church or religion. The services of a religion were ministries. This is the definition that is still used to define the services churches offer; such as soup kitchen ministry, community service ministry, etc. But I  notice that in many instances, it is now used to define the services rendered not through the church to others, but to the church itself.  These are the "ministries" that do not directly benefit anyone but the actual church or organization the person is working/volunteering for. What I mean are things such as cleaning the building, scrapbooking photos from events, mowing the lawn. There is nothing wrong with any of those things, but should they be labeled as a "ministry?"

I've heard the claim that "our entire lives are ministry." In some senses, that is true. If our lives vary greatly from the way we behave at church functions and in our personal live that raises some questions about the authenticity of both. However, does that mean we have give everything the title "ministry?" It would be ridiculous for Christians to walk around saying "I'm just about to leave to meet up with you. I just need to finish my tooth brushing ministry duties." Although I'm sure everyone you meet in a given day is grateful that you brush your teeth every morning, doing so isn't a service to them.

In the worst case scenarios, such overly spiritual titles can come across as a cover to try to manipulate people into doing mundane or difficult jobs with no compensation by making them feel more important for doing so.  I can't even begin to imagine how absurd some of these titles look to people who are unfamiliar with church or religion.

I don't have any answers for this. In fact I think there is a lot of gray area here and no clear way to figure out where to draw these lines. I've been thinking about this a lot, after a conversation with my sister that was sparked after seeing a listing for "pew cleaning ministry." I just worry that it is like all things, the more you use the term, the less meaning it will have to people. When everything is a "ministry," it starts to seem like nothing really is.

In the end, it's easier to call everything a ministry than it is to engage with the struggle to figure out what it actually looks like to live like Jesus. It's easier to keep doing things that require those in need to come to you than to figure out how to break down barriers and actually build authentic relationships with them. It's easier to run things by your business models, requesting "ministry" volunteers than it is to wrestle with Jesus' examples of inclusiveness, simplicity, compassion, self-sacrifice, and humility.

Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for my morning dog walking ministry.

Got a problem? Church will fix it.

After college I spent a few years working at a small business owned and operated by a Christian family. Although this business did not deal with counseling or ministry in any direct way, because there were a lot of repeat customers who were often the first generations of their family to live in the USA it wasn't uncommon for them to ask employees for advice.

One of the owners had this experience rather frequently. George (not his real name) was the type of Christian that argued against the evil influence of Harry Potter, feared the influence of anything that could be labeled "liberal," and insisted on corporate prayer at the beginning of every day. He would come up with interesting theories on how to spiritually interpret occurrences in the natural world.  He (as well as the other family members who worked there) served in some sort of leadership position at his church and would sometimes be known to make phone calls to church members during business hours in order to offer them spiritual guidance and correction. His office was close to mine, so I often overheard conversations with his clients.

One day a middle aged woman came in to talk to him. She had immigrated to the US and had two teenage sons that had grown up here. She was a frequent customer of George's, and when she was finished with business she began to confide in him that she was concerned about her sons. She was especially worried about her oldest son. His grades were slipping, he was being disrespectful to her, he was caught drinking, she thought his friends were a bad influence, and she was worried that he would start doing drugs (if he hadn't been already). Having worked with teenagers in such situations before, the conversation peaked my interest and I waited to hear how George would respond.

"Yeah, hmm...that's tough. Do you think he'd be interested in coming to my church? We've got a good youth group with a lot of nice kids. He could make better friends."

The woman returned a few days later with her sons to have them meet George. I distinctly remember her asking this uncomfortable teenager, "Do you want to go to George's church?"

I remember clenching my fists. I wanted to jump into the conversation, but I wasn't supposed to have heard it at all. I had worked with kids like him before. I knew the the tension in his decisions was far more likely to lie in the difficulty he was having  in trying to live in two worlds. His parents wanted to keep the ways of their native country and he just wanted to fit in with his American friends. Add on top of that all the pressures of simply being a teenager and you've got quite a dilemma on your hands. Being a teenager is hard enough without the extra pressure of trying to juggle the expectations of two distinct cultural identities.  In my opinion, church wasn't a "one size fits all" sort of answer for this.

I recalled this story after seeing this article.  A new law in Bay Minette, Alabama will allow judges a choice in sentencing misdemeanor offenders: jail time and a fine or church attendance every Sunday. Obvious this is being challenged on the grounds of constitutionality. That's something that should be discussed, but I'm not going to address this here. The reason I bring this up is exemplified in pastor's comment in the article:

"You show me somebody who falls in love with Jesus, and I'll show you a person who won't be a problem to society but that will be an influence and a help to those around them."

One thing that I was especially struck by during my time in American Evangelical Culture is this pervasive idea that you can solve anything by bringing someone to church. Drug addiction, rebellion, depression...you name it, and church will fix it. The belief is that if you turn your life over to Christ, you will have no desire to do sinful/detrimental things.

It sounds nice, but I think such reasoning is overly optimistic. I have known of Christians (pastors even) who beat their wives and/or children, stole property, used drugs, drank while underage, raped women, murdered someone, and the list goes on. Believing in Jesus doesn't make you suddenly incapable of such things. These are all fairly extreme examples, but just think of the Christians you know (and I include myself ) who still find themselves lying, gossiping, or being selfish from time to time. Those are all things the gospel also condemns, but belief and regular church attendance doesn't eliminate them from our lives.

Belief alone isn't enough to eliminate such things. It must be paired with a true commitment to change, and a willingness to seek out any psychological, behavioral, emotional, or mental factors that may be a large part of such decisions. Church/belief shouldn't be something people are forced into in an attempt to "fix" them. It should be a choice they make willingly as they try to discover their own spiritual fulfillment. Even more dangerous, it may ultimately have the same affect as failed healings. It shifts the burden onto those who've come to the church for help. If church/belief should be enough to take away their problems, the implication is that a failure to do so is evidence of that person's lack of authentic faith.

Back to my initial story about George's immigrant client. She did start taking her kids to his church and sending them to youth group. I don't know any of the details about their time their or how it affected her son. But I do know that a few months later, he got in trouble again, and she returned to the office to talk to George about his thoughts on her decision to send her son back to their home country away from all the bad influences. I wasn't surprised to hear that simply taking him to church and youth group wasn't enough.

The Paradox of Dave Ramsey and Christian College Tuition

When I decided to attend a Christian College, unlike most of my peers, my mother was the first to try to discourage me. Not because she isn't a Christian, but because of the sky high tuition rates such institutions charge. Private Christian colleges are expensive. Very expensive.

Many who are concerned with such costs dismiss those concerns by telling themselves that God will surely make a way for them to attend since they are stepping out in faith and demonstrating their devotion to learn more about his word. (Count the Christian culture cliches in that sentence. ) Many Christian colleges also market to prospective students with such concerns or potential alumni donors by filling their marketing materials with similar phrases.

This isn't very surprising. But I do find it confusing in light of another Evangelical trend.

Dave Ramsey

I struggle to reconcile such fervent marketing of costly education coming from the same people who adore Dave Ramsey and all of his financial teachings.

For those who are unfamiliar, Dave Ramsey is American Evangelical Culture's most beloved financial guru. Most AEC churches regularly offer his "Financial Peace University" class. They learn about "debt snowballs," cutting spending, and buying big bargains - all dressed up in shiny biblical language.

Although I respect the idea of helping people get out of debt and don't necessarily diagree with all of Ramsey's teachings, there is a lot of legitimate concern over whether such classes (and their encouragement to save wealth to "live like no one else") should be presented as Christianity. That's a fair and productive debate to have. But I'm not here to present such a debate. (If you want to discuss that issue more, SCCL brought up the topic recently.)

I want to present a different question that confuses me. How can the same culture that embraces Dave Ramsey's teachings on avoiding and getting out of debt continue to encourage their kids to take on tens of thousands of dollars of debt that will take years to pay off all in the name of "Christ-centered education?" What sort of cognitive dissonance allows them to embrace both ideas?  Am I the only one confused by this?

Disclaimer: I obviously have a horse in this race, since I really regret the amount of debt I incurred from attending such a college and don't think that it was worth it at all. If I had to do it all over again, I would choose a much cheaper public university. But that's a topic for another post...