church

Yesterday I went to the beach, one of my favorite places on earth.

There I continued to read The Shack, a novel that is equally disturbing and thought-provoking. There, on the beach, a family with a bunch of teenagers plopped down in the sand next to us. Soon, the family's middle aged friend pulled up a chair and began telling the parents about the church service they had exchanged for Lake Michigan.

"[The pastor] really nailed it," he started, telling them the precise Scripture verses the pastor had covered. "The first sermon was 23 minutes, and the second was 26 minutes."

All these numbers, I thought, triggering memories of the church I grew up in, where the ushers would stand in the back counting heads.

"We had 78 people at the first service, and 118 at..." He went onto critique the brass section, telling his listeners how "on fire" the organ player was, and on-and-on about details.

Yes, forgive me for being judgmental, but when we reduce God and spirituality to meet the expectations of the institution of our own making, we lose. When...

...church is only an hour on Sunday;

...the Holy Spirit only moves on Sunday morning, precisely between 11:21 a.m. and noon;

...worship is restricted to: organs, guitars, electric guitars, pianos, drums, acapella, hymns, old spirituals, contemporary music, etc.

We lose. Others lose. The world loses.

We become spiritual cannibals.

We miss the big picture.

And oftentimes, we don't even try to find it again.

Then, last night, at our postmodern, hip church, we made fun of the exact things I'd overheard the religious man talking about on the beach. We've been having discussions on core values of the church and what it looks like to live out our faith in our city, world, etc., and last night's discussion centered on evangelism: the speakers conjured up memories of tracks, lunatics with hellfire signs at massive public events, door knocking, the Roman's Road, etc.

What's funny is that even at our hip church, they're supposed to report how many people have been "saved" during the past month. (For the record, the pastor replies, "I don't know.")

These discussions have been trademarked with civilized, po-mo heat, and last night I added a counterpoint to something I thought was sketchy, and was ultimately rebutted by a mystical quote and referencing the Scripture verse I'd paraphrased.

I shook my head and whispered under my breath and thought of the Scripture and how right I was and how dangerous the statement had been to a room full of young impressionable people.

And then I realized I don't know who was right, or if we really disagreed at all, or if the issue at hand was situational, or if there's a hard line to follow. There's great pride in all of us.

All around us we see all these various expressions of following Christ, and we must submit to the blend of Spirit and Truth, of seeing some things clearly and others dimly through a mirror.

But when we levitate to one extreme or the other, in this case, the fruit has been indifference or cynicism. The older generation has created a comfortable system to fit God into, which has in turn caused great cynicism to seep into the bones of those who endured the institution.

But now, there's a real danger in my own life and my generation, of never moving past cynicism, of losing hope, of becoming too hip or cool or postmodern to stand for anything out of fear of offending or losing credibility or respect or getting tagged with religious stereotypes.

Last night, the verse in question was I Peter 3:15-16:

“But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander.” (I Peter 3:15-16)

What we've been given is Good, so Good, that no matter what "methods" we choose or feel are appropriate, that we learn to live and act as those who have been brought from death to life. And the mysterious, beautiful Triune God who has taken us from death to life, can certainly snatch us from the depths of our indifference and cynicism.