My dad's girlfriend recently emailed me an interesting quote, attributed most often to Rev. Sam Pascoe (the former priest of Grace Anglican Church who was defrocked for having an inappropriate relationship with a parishioner, was repentant, rehabilitated, and later reinstated under the bishop of Uganda):
Christianity started in Palestine as a fellowship;
it moved to Greece and became a philosophy;
it moved to Italy and became an institution;
it moved to Europe and became a culture;
it came to America and became an enterprise.
(It might be added that, where it has gone from the West to the East, from developed countries into developing ones, Christianity has manifested itself in many combinations and extensions of all five of these.) While the quote itself is insightful, I was more impressed by a particular response to the quote, recounted by David Ryser, founder of RawReligion.com, which "seeks to explore topics surrounding nontraditional expressions of Christianity, commonly referred to as 'organic church' or 'simple church.'" The site generates "content that looks at the implications of life outside the four walls of the institutional church," including book reviews and website introduction. The site heralds what it terms an “ecclesiastical revolution” that is "far-reaching and has the momentum to change the expression of Christianity in a single generation... [the revolution] draws on the principles and concepts of the early church, and may rightly be called instead a 'returning'":
It is not about building a new structure or marketing edge. It is about returning to the natural, simple, and organic expression of the Body of Christ. The book of Acts and Paul’s epistles display timeless principles about the spiritual DNA of the ekklesia (or “Church”).
Back to the quote, when Ryser shared this simplified version of how Christianity has progressed from fellowship to enterprise, he paused for dramatic effect, and then reminded his class that an enterprise is essentially a business. He was stunned by the insightful response of a student in his class:
She asked such a simple question: "A business? But isn't it supposed to be a body?" I could not envision where this line of questioning was going, and the only response I could think of was, "Yes." She continued, "But when a body becomes a business, isn't that a prostitute?
Christianity started in Palestine as a fellowship;
it moved to Greece and became a philosophy;
it moved to Italy and became an institution;
it moved to Europe and became a culture;
it came to America and became an enterprise.
(It might be added that, where it has gone from the West to the East, from developed countries into developing ones, Christianity has manifested itself in many combinations and extensions of all five of these.) While the quote itself is insightful, I was more impressed by a particular response to the quote, recounted by David Ryser, founder of RawReligion.com, which "seeks to explore topics surrounding nontraditional expressions of Christianity, commonly referred to as 'organic church' or 'simple church.'" The site generates "content that looks at the implications of life outside the four walls of the institutional church," including book reviews and website introduction. The site heralds what it terms an “ecclesiastical revolution” that is "far-reaching and has the momentum to change the expression of Christianity in a single generation... [the revolution] draws on the principles and concepts of the early church, and may rightly be called instead a 'returning'":
It is not about building a new structure or marketing edge. It is about returning to the natural, simple, and organic expression of the Body of Christ. The book of Acts and Paul’s epistles display timeless principles about the spiritual DNA of the ekklesia (or “Church”).
Back to the quote, when Ryser shared this simplified version of how Christianity has progressed from fellowship to enterprise, he paused for dramatic effect, and then reminded his class that an enterprise is essentially a business. He was stunned by the insightful response of a student in his class:
She asked such a simple question: "A business? But isn't it supposed to be a body?" I could not envision where this line of questioning was going, and the only response I could think of was, "Yes." She continued, "But when a body becomes a business, isn't that a prostitute?
This is precisely the sentiment expressed by songwriter Derek Webb in "Wedding Dress":
If you could love me as a wife
and for my wedding gift, your life
Should that be all I'd ever need
or is there more I'm looking for
and should I read between the lines
and look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise
Is that really what you want
I am a whore I do confess
But I put you on just like a wedding dress
and I run down the aisle
and I run down the aisle
I?m a prodigal with no way home
but I put you on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle to you
So could you love this bastard child
Though I don't trust you to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
and with the other in your side
I am so easily satisfied
by the call of lovers so less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over your very flesh and blood
Because money cannot buy
a husband's jealous eye
When you have knowingly deceived his wife
What concerns me is that Martha and Derek are both quite right--many facets of the American church exhibit a shameless kind of advertising and overall seductive behavior. I don't ever get the feeling in Scripture that Jesus was schmaltzing people like a used car salesman--if anything, he warned fully of the liabilities involved in following his teachings. Yet so many Christians seem to be trying to sell you something when they evangelize. I have even been in the awkward position where I felt that I, too, had to propagandize others in order to be faithful to the mandate of sharing the Gospel. But in the end, sharing the gospel without sharing life with people, getting to know them as fellow human beings, brothers and sisters, is like stripping down and having sex with a total stranger. Even the Sinner's Prayer with which some quickie evangelists like to "seal the deal" feels purely transactional and not relational at all. It is like the money or the awkward words exchanged after making a purchase: "Thank you, come again!" While some groups of believers make a whore out of the Church by this dubious "selling" of the message of Christ, others (as I have tried to discuss in other posts here) exhibit a haggardness--the resignation of a lazy housewife who is selling herself short. Neither the prostitute nor the mumu-clad matron are aiming for the total vitality, virtue, and radiance befitting a bride of Christ. So when we go to church on Sunday in many American churches, we either go to be seduced by their hustle act, or to be spiritually complacent, chubby, and tired. Those of us who can endure neither of these options are tempted to avoid church. These two choices are, of course, a false dilemma: living out our faith in the context of Christian community is still a worthy endeavor, even if it seems elusive. The third option, and what that might look like, is the question of the day.
If you could love me as a wife
and for my wedding gift, your life
Should that be all I'd ever need
or is there more I'm looking for
and should I read between the lines
and look for blessings in disguise
To make me handsome, rich, and wise
Is that really what you want
I am a whore I do confess
But I put you on just like a wedding dress
and I run down the aisle
and I run down the aisle
I?m a prodigal with no way home
but I put you on just like a ring of gold
and I run down the aisle to you
So could you love this bastard child
Though I don't trust you to provide
With one hand in a pot of gold
and with the other in your side
I am so easily satisfied
by the call of lovers so less wild
That I would take a little cash
Over your very flesh and blood
Because money cannot buy
a husband's jealous eye
When you have knowingly deceived his wife
What concerns me is that Martha and Derek are both quite right--many facets of the American church exhibit a shameless kind of advertising and overall seductive behavior. I don't ever get the feeling in Scripture that Jesus was schmaltzing people like a used car salesman--if anything, he warned fully of the liabilities involved in following his teachings. Yet so many Christians seem to be trying to sell you something when they evangelize. I have even been in the awkward position where I felt that I, too, had to propagandize others in order to be faithful to the mandate of sharing the Gospel. But in the end, sharing the gospel without sharing life with people, getting to know them as fellow human beings, brothers and sisters, is like stripping down and having sex with a total stranger. Even the Sinner's Prayer with which some quickie evangelists like to "seal the deal" feels purely transactional and not relational at all. It is like the money or the awkward words exchanged after making a purchase: "Thank you, come again!" While some groups of believers make a whore out of the Church by this dubious "selling" of the message of Christ, others (as I have tried to discuss in other posts here) exhibit a haggardness--the resignation of a lazy housewife who is selling herself short. Neither the prostitute nor the mumu-clad matron are aiming for the total vitality, virtue, and radiance befitting a bride of Christ. So when we go to church on Sunday in many American churches, we either go to be seduced by their hustle act, or to be spiritually complacent, chubby, and tired. Those of us who can endure neither of these options are tempted to avoid church. These two choices are, of course, a false dilemma: living out our faith in the context of Christian community is still a worthy endeavor, even if it seems elusive. The third option, and what that might look like, is the question of the day.
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