Saturday, May 16, 2009

a handful of juicy ones

Allow me to ennumerate, as if to dangle my can full worms one by one in front of your face, some of the things that most turn me off about the defunct church model my friend addressed in the previous post.

1. Why are most churches so ugly? The expense of the building has nothing to do with it. They often smell dank and moldy, or too new. There are ways to make florescent bulbs look nice--am I the only one who knows this? A church can be quite plain or elaborately ornamented, but the question is whether it is beautiful in an enduring way, that draws the mind heavenward toward Beauty Himself. Kitschy decorations and theologically simplistic banners do the opposite, in the same way that a stained glass window meant to glorify some wealthy church patron would have distracted a worshipper centuries ago.

2. Why does the vast majority of Christian music leave you feeling like you've been hustled? One friend in college who sought refuge in the old hymns described contemporary worship music as spiritual masturbation. The silliest variation of this that I've ever heard, was a name-it-claim-it preacher who got in our faces one Sunday morning about the spiritual disciplines. Naturally, he made his own practice of them the focal point, and kept admonishing us to follow his example of Saturday nights in worship at home with his "intimate cds." He could not have known, in light of my friend's comment, how crass and self-absorbed that sounded to me. Whatever happened to "He is in heaven and you are on earth, so let your words be few"? Theologically bereft mantras of "Yes, Yes Lord" leave me with serious doubts about our commitment to "whatever your hand finds to do, do it heartily as unto the Lord." To present God and his church with a better offering we should trouble ourselves more consistently to do our best. Many of these songs focus on the self, and plop their verses, riffs, and bridges like so many piles of excrement along an otherwise delightful path. Singing is delightful, though often awkward in a corporate setting. But this is made worse by worship leaders who fancy themselves the next David Crowder, blasting their team over speakers in sanctuaries whose acoustics may or may not cooperate, as if to drown out the tone-deaf faithful. With few exceptions, these musicians can not compete in the marketplace of sounds or ideas, yet they sell us their cds as if they do. We imitate these substandard performers and songwriters in our services, as if a catchy electric baseline can makeup for the fact that our church is half empty--half irrelevant.

3. Why do many pastors who are so clearly not gifted at public speaking feel compelled to preach, out of their star, a standard 45 minute sermon each week? Far be it from me to limit the Holy Spirit's voice at any time of day, but usually I am a fan of the 15-20 minute homily administered in most liturgical churches. It is easier to ensure that your message is well thought out, fully subjected to the leadings of the Spirit, and far more digestible (personally, I don't think many people pay attention much longer than that, anyway). I have been sitting in church since the second Sunday of my life, and by now I am an astute rhetorical troubleshooter. I find myself having to hush the voice that automatically says, "Well, that was a blanket statment/mixed metaphor/straw man/false dilemma/exegetical misfire, but I know what he meant." Yes, there is a temptation for devotees of Sunday morning church to adopt a spirit of criticism rather than of worship. But without that voice to help me sift through so much disappointment and bullshit, I probably would have left the church a long time ago.

4. Why do so many corporate experiences of the Holy Spirit seem to be just textbook manifestations of social psychology? Dietrich Bonhoeffer says it best when he describes our "psychic," human desire for community, in which we constantly seek to remake others in our own image:

"It is the deep night that hovers over all human action, even over all noble and devout impulses. ...In human community of spirit there rules, along with the Word, the man who is furnished with exceptional powers, experience, and magical, suggestive capacities. ...here spheres of power and influence of a personal nature are sought and cultivated. It is true, in so far as these are devout men, that they do this with the intention of serving the highest and the best, but in actuality the result is to dethrone the Holy Spirit, to relegate him to remote unreality. In the spiritual realm, the Spirit governs; in human community, psychological techniques and methods...the searching, calculating analysis of a stranger. ...[the] desire of the human soul seeks a complete fusion of I and Thou, whether this occur in the union of love or, what is after all the same thing, in the forcing of another person into one's sphere of power and influence. ...Here human ties, suggestions, and bonds are everything, and in the immediate community of souls we have reflected the distorted image of everything that is originally and solely peculiar to community mediated through Christ. Thus there is such a thing as human absorption. It appears in all forms of conversion wherever the superior power of one person is consciously or unconsciously misused to influence profoundly and draw into his spell another individual or a whole community. Here one soul operates directly upon another soul. The weak have been overcome by the strong, the resistance of the weak has broken down under the influence of another person. He has been overpowered, but not won over by the thing itself." Life Together: a discussion of Christian Fellowship pp. 30-33

To quote the pop artist JEM in the song "They":
...
And it's ironic too
'cause what we tend to do
is act on what they say
and then it is that way

I'm sorry, so sorry
I'm sorry it's like this
I'm sorry, so sorry
Why do we live like this?
...

Since eighth grade, I have had a bad taste in my mouth about public displays of Holy-Ghost power. First, a youth pastor at a junior high retreat tried to "slay me in the Spirit" by surrounding me with older, cooler teenagers who coaxed me to "let go and let God," while he applied enough sudden pressure to catch me off guard, pushing me over. I wasn't in a position to call his bluff: I earnestly wanted the experience he was so enthusiastically proposing. I remember spending minutes on the floor in a daze, debating whether my epiphany or nap time would come first. In college, a close friend became embroiled in a strangely Salem, Massachusetts-like covey of Christian dorm mates that specialized in late night prayer sessions where they would engage in rigorous spiritual warfare to the exclusion of their studies. I knew something was up when this friend uncharacteristically checked a book out of the library: "Can a Christian Have a Demon?" Most recently I suffered through a particularly distracting, let-it-all-hang-out-at-the-top-of-our-lungs-everyone-praying-over-each-other experience I had in church, praying silently on my knees in the pew "Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy." Now there is a mantra that could decimate the fluffy "Yes, Yes Lord" faster than a fat kid on a cupcake.

5. Why do church leaders spew about abortion and gay marriage with such zeal, yet fumble so badly when it comes to other pressing social and political issues of our time? Most are either too afraid to broach these subjects, conveniently sterilizing those passages in the bible that clearly indict such socially pervasive sins as economic injustice, poor environmental stewardship, gluttony, and the love of money. Others spew their opinions as gospel, eager to proselytize the uninformed, blissfully unaware that their bastions of common sense are really products of their socioeconomic upbringing (and therefore neither infallible nor objective). A perfect example: those people who are always railing against how corrupt and immoral our country has become (nevermind how much so it was when the founding fathers were in their heyday) and then are incised that other nations resent or hate our influence in the world. You have to remind them that some of those countries are currently more pious than we have ever been (not always in a good way, granted) and that they see us as the new Babylon, exporting our avarice, licentiousness, deceit, and hubris everywhere we go. Newsflash: there is nothing new under the sun. People have always been corrupt, and for that very reason every social and political issue that faces us is complex, full of minefields and therefore not easily answered or put right. For once, I would like to hear a preacher engage that reality without shrinking from it on the one hand, or being cavalier on the other. I know it can be done in conversation--why not from the pulpit?

I think that is enough for now, though I have not even touched the bottom of this can of worms. It is just possible that I agree with my friend: our model for church is broken. All of the things I have listed wouldn't be nearly so pernicious if they hadn't bred in that custom of waking up early on Sunday to go expectantly to that steepled building. The expectation that it will be transformative in any real sense of the word is perhaps misplaced, and unrealistic.

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