Evil Church

I've been thinking a lot lately about how the church (the body of believers, not the buildings) actually functions, or rather lives, in our local communities.

When I think about it, we're pretty good at being present in Sunday School classes (although we're never on time...unless there's free food), filling the pews for Sunday morning worship (just in time to miss the offering and out before "the church across the street" gets to the local eateries). We're pretty good at being present in Sunday evening's worship serivce (especially if we have a child of ours involved), Wednesday evening Bible Study (even if it does only last for 30 minutes), offering an opportunity for our children to play and learn together, and providing a home-cooked, faith community-based meal once a week for a few dollars. And then there's the property - we love our property. We're really good at making sure that we've got some of the best looking buildings with the brightest stained glass windows, freshest black-topped parking lots, plushest furniture to rest ourselves on, and the latest state-of-the-art kitchen(s) - all with plaques to show who gave the gifts and whom the gifts memorialize.

While this laundry list of things might (and probably was) read with a tone of frustration, or at the very least sarcasm, in all honesty we really do do these things - and we do them well. And in some manner, it should be celebrated. It is a good thing that we have people participating in spiritually formative experiences. It is a good thing that we take pride in the things that we have worked hard for and the things that we have been gifted. It is a good thing that we are willing to gather around a table to share a meal.

But when it all boils down to it, what differences do all of these things make? I mean, am I a better Christian because I have a video screen and projection system in the sanctuary? Or because my church has multiple buildings? Or because there's a coffee shop right outside of the santuary doors? Or because we have a big screen tv with an Xbox 360 in our youth room?

There's one thing that each item on the laundry list has in common with every other thing on that laundry list: they all exist to serve the members of the local community of faith.

And at first some might think, "Well of course it does! It should! They (we) deserve nice things. Those things help us remember our past. They help us focus on God. They make us feel good about who we are." While that's all well and good, is it what the Christian faith is really made of? Is being a Christian all about having nice things?

I started the post by stating that I've been thinking a lot about how the church functions and lives in our local communities. I've been thinking of this because I've (re)arrived at the realization that apathy has gripped its cold fingers around our collective hearts and minds as a people of faith. We're quite content with our quaint Sundays and brunches and being able to proclaim our faith - as long as its with people that we know and people that we want to be around.

In other words, we're okay being Christians as long as we don't have to put ourselves at risk.

This coming weekend is such an example. I found out Sunday evening that many junior high and high school students in the town in which I live (and where my wife serves as a clergy person) were being handed fyers and invitations to a "gathering" sponsored by an infamous hate group. The purpose of the gathering is to discuss, "immigration reform and crime rates...specifically, black-on-white crime" (as per the flyer). I became sick to my stomach when I heard about it. And the longer I sat at home in my chair, the more angry I became. But when I brought up the suggestion to form a community response in the form of a worship service to celebrate the diversity of God's creation - NOT A PROTEST - it was met with a (already discussed) plan to not do anything because, "any action would be exactly what 'they' want - more attention."

My interpretation: "While I feel bad for 'those people' who are victimized, I really don't want to put myself at risk. It'll get too messy. And besides, this doesn't effect me anyway."

My heart aches because systemic evil has lurched its way into the church, and we've done next to nothing to stop it because we're afraid that it might get too messy. The church does not exist to serve, maintain, and pamper itself. The church exists to serve others, and work for the transformation of the world by providing opportunities for the inbreaking of God's Reign on earth. Participation in Sunday activities shouldn't be structured as to give us our weekly "God credits." Rather, when the community of faith gathers it should be for the equipping and encouragement of the people of faith so that they might live lives of transformative discipleship.

Being a follower of Christ means living out God's limitless love for the world to the world by being in relationship with other people - Christian or otherwise. In his latest book, So Beautiful: Divine Design for Life and the Church, Leonard Sweet writes that, "Every Christian is a colonizer: We are colonizing earth with heaven. We are creating 'colonies' of heaven not Christian-coated mirror cities. Just as a pastor can falsify Christ to a congregation, so can a church falsify Christ to the world." (19) By recognizing the evils in the world while failing to stand against them in love, the church becomes a partner in those evils. By partnering with evil, the church itself becomes evil - thus breaking away from the intended life that God has created and made real to us through the life and teachings, death, and resurrection of Jesus the Christ.

The Christian faith is a messy thing. It can't be broken down and compartmentalized into neat, little check-off boxes. The life of the One whom we choose to follow didn't happen in clean, plush-carpeted rooms with brass candle holders and leather couches. It happened out in the world - in the community, with the community - surrounded by like-minded people for support and strength, and by other-minded people who sought to squelch his vision: that God's world and rule of love might come to be in our world of separation and disunity.

My hope is that I am able to remain in this vision - the vision of God's world coming to engulf our world - that I might continue to seek to be an agent of Godly change in the towns in which I live and serve - and that I might not become the kind of Christian that makes rocks cry out.

(post script: We are still hoping to have some kind of worshipful celebration this weekend - so keep coming back - I'll post something as soon as I find out the plans.)