Tag Archives for evangelical

The Internet Monk on Atheism

Michael Spencer, a.k.a. the Internet Monk, is a Baptist pastor and blogger who doesn’t think like a Baptist (I think he considers himself post-evangelical).  I think he has some interesting perspectives on things, but I often don’t agree with him.  Today, I do.  He’s written a very interesting post on the standard evangelical attitudes toward atheism.  I think it’s worth reading, and I think many atheists would also agree with some of what he says.  Or maybe not… it’s hard to tell.

An excerpt:

Our team looks good to us. Trust me, they don’t look that good to atheists. If you applaud the point-scoring at debates, you’re missing the point entirely. The fact that someone like Dan Barker (and there are dozens more) is out there at all, making it plain that the Christian journey has brought a crowd of people just like YOU to the point where atheism looked far, far better than what you were hearing in church and trying to live is all the ammunition that’s needed for thousands of people.

You see, evangelicals have made such outrageous assumptions and promises about happiness, healing, everything working out, knowing God, answered prayer, loving one another and so on that proving us to be liars isn’t even a real job. It’s just a matter of tuning in to an increasing number of voices who say “It’s OK to not believe. Give yourself a break. Stop tormenting yourself trying to believe. Stop propping up your belief with more and more complex arguments. Just let go of God.”

Read the rest here.

A Tale of Two Churches

I went to two churches this morning, one at 9:00 and the other at 11.  One was a typical contemporary evangelical service, not unlike many others I’ve been to over the years. The other was the Episcopal church I’ve been attending for several months.  There was a vast difference in style, as one would expect. However, today I became aware of one distinction in particular which bears some reflection.

Church #1

First, I want to be clear that I am not saying church #1 is in any way a bad church, as evangelical churches go.  On the positive side, they really understand how to be welcoming.  We were very warmly greeted by people who seemed genuinely happy to see us (granted, one greeter was someone I happened to know).  Second, they started precisely at 9am.  They even had a TV screen in the lobby counting down the seconds until church started.  Even though most people were late, that didn’t stop the worship team.

Here’s the thing with church #1: The service, which was 90 minutes long, consisted of only two items, worship (that is, singing about 4 worship songs) and the sermon.  As far as the worship portion went, the band was very good (and loud), and the songs were for the most part well-chosen, including 2 contemporary versions of older hymns (including Amazing Grace, always a winner).  The pastor was a fair speaker, but talked way too long, and said virtually nothing that couldn’t have been said in under 10 minutes.  Then they did a quick offering during a reprise of one of the worship choruses.

Church #2

On the other hand, at St. Paul’s Episcopal we sang about the same number of hymns, not counting various liturgical choruses and a responsive chant of Psalm 111.  They read selections from the Old Testament, the Epistles, the Gospels, and of course the chanted Psalm.  There was a sermon – barely 10 minutes, but well thought-out and providing food for thought (a little pun… the text was John 6:51-58) on a very difficult text.

We also publicly confessed sin, received an affirmation of forgiveness, spent time in intercessory prayer, proclaimed our faith in reciting the Nicene Creed, corporately prayed the Lord’s Prayer, heard some amazing special music and celebrated the Lord’s Supper (Eucharist).

All that, in under one hour.

Food for thought

Again, I did not particularly dislike church #1.  But again, the contrast between my 2 church experiences this morning reveals something, I think, about evangelical Christianity.  I keep coming back to Marshall McLuhan’s concept “the medium is the message,” because I think it’s directly applicable to church. What we do – or not do – and how we do it reveal both our priorities and our beliefs.

It is easy to see in the Episcopal worship service what they believe and what they value: Scripture, worship of the Trinity, a commitment to the historic faith and the ever-present work of Christ as celebrated in the Eucharist.

In church #1, it was not so easy to discover what they believed. I presume – because I know the denomination – they are Trinitarians and believe in the authority of Scripture, but I wouldn’t know this from the service. It was evident that they valued contemporary music and a quality sound system, and that they valued the perspective of the pastor (the sermon took the majority of the service).  But, what does what is lacking in the service say about their beliefs and values?

I am not blaming church #1 for their rather featureless service; I believe they inherited a contemporary, anti-liturgical and anti-historical form and have taken it for granted. It possibly has not occurred to most of them that they leave the service with relatively little, and having done very little.  Fellowship, corporate singing and some teaching are, of course, not without value; the question is, is it enough?

A Lutheran perspective on North American Christianity

From a recent sermon (Lutheran):

… we need to recognize that the religious culture of North America is Evangelicalism.  This culture has its roots first in Puritanism, which is basically Calvinistic, and secondarily in the great revival movements of the late 18th and early 19th centuries.  Evangelicalism puts the emphasis on conversion as a personal decision and the church as a spiritual democracy.  Evangelicalism’s stress on the autonomy of the believer and the immediacy of spiritual experience apart from sacramental means has shaped a religious culture that accents an individualistic faith over churchly life and tends to characterize Baptism, Absolution, and the Lord’s Supper as peripheral to the Christian life.  This subjectivity, coupled with a suspicion of the intellect, has produced a religious culture that elevates heart over head, and emotion over intellect.  Wherever biblical authority is lost, Christ is displaced, and the Gospel is distorted, then our interests have displaced God’s, and we are doing His work in our own way.  The loss of the centrality of Christ in the life of today’s church in North America is becoming more and more common.  It is this loss that allows us to transform worship into entertainment, Gospel preaching into marketing, believing into technique, and living a sanctified life into feeling good about ourselves. God does not exist to satisfy human ambitions, cravings, the appetite for consumption, or our own private spiritual interests. [emphasis mine]

I wish I’d said that.  I often refer to Marshall McLuhan’s concept, “The medium is the message,” which I think is especially true of our expressions of Christianity. How we worship – what we do on Sunday mornings – speaks volumes about our values and beliefs, more so than we realize.  In many evangelical churches – and to be fair, a number of liturgical churches as well – Christ is not in the center of what is being done.  Sticking to the liturgical book masks this somewhat, but many liturgical churches have left the book for newer, trendier liturgies that are severely lacking.  I actually walked out of one such Lutheran service.  Seeker-sensitive or experientially-focused churches, however, have nothing historical to hide behind, so I think the message they convey in what they do is more obvious.

Is this being judgmental?  Yes, definitely.  But, as GK Chesterton said (my favorite quote), “Tolerance is the virtue of a man without convictions.“  Am I positive that I’m 100% correct in my judgments?  Not at all – however, I will believe what I believe until I have a better revelation of truth.  If you’ve got some, I’d certainly like to hear it.

Thanks to Dawn for the quote.

In defense of the Liturgy

Having spent 30 years wandering among various evangelical camps (referring to the “new” evangelicals, not the more broad definition that would include Lutherans, the first group to call themselves “evangelical”), I know that most Western Christians today suffer from a historical myopia, and are largely ignorant about the rest of the Church. There are many Christians who think they know about the liturgical church, but what they know is not only very small, some of it is more myth than truth. The Western Evangelical church, speaking in general terms, is not only myopic, but often adds arrogance to their ignorance. This is not true of everyone, obviously, but I’ve witnessed it on many of the evangelical blogs I have visited, as have witnessed it first-hand, not only by common-class Christians, but also by Pastors, who of all people should know better.  One of the more common issues concerns the liturgy itself, which is often seen as dry, lifeless, and lacking in any kind of personal spirituality. There’s an old joke that liturgy is there in case the Holy Spirit doesn’t show up. However, nothing can be further from the truth.

One of the primary complaints about liturgy is that everything is scripted for you; there is no room for spontaneity. This is, of course, true for the most part, and it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Neither is it that different from the typical non-liturgical church.  Most evangelical churches that I have attended follow the same basic format each week, so after the first couple of visits you pretty much know what is happening from then on.  For the first section of the service, there is music, whether a half hour of choruses, or a combination of performance and congregational singing. None of the songs are written by you, or chosen by you; that’s up to whoever is in charge. The words to the songs are all written down for you, whether in a hymnal or displayed on the big screen; unless you’re the worship leader, you have no ability to alter them.  At some point, there are announcements, probably an offering, and a sermon.  There’s probably an ending song of some sort, then you go home.  It doesn’t sound that spontaneous, does it?  Not only that, you really didn’t get to do much. Church is performed by professionals, for you.

The major difference between liturgical and non-liturgical worship is not that things are written down for you; the difference is in the content. I got tired of singing 30-40 minutes of songs, most of which contained little or no truth about God. Many of the songs express the personal feelings and experiences of the songwriter, and can’t possibly represent either universal truth or the feelings of everyone in attendance.

In a liturgical church, you would sing songs, all of which contain serious theological truths. You would confess that you are a sinner, acknowledge your forgiveness, recite one of the creeds, and pray a few well-conceived prayers, including the Lord’s Prayer.  Everything in the liturgy applies to everyone, at every time. Some of the liturgy actually dates back to the 4th Century, and the same words and thoughts have been said thousands of times by millions of Christians down through the ages. Besides being universally true, the liturgy connects us to the historical church (another element that is completely missing in most non-liturgical churches).

Besides that, you would have heard the Bible read, not just proof-texts to support the pastor’s sermon, but read with the intent of letting the Word impact you. You’d hear from the Old Testament, the Psalms, the Epistles, and the Gospel. There would be a short sermon based on one of the Scripture texts, and then you’d celebrate the Eucharist (i.e. communion). The entire service – with the exception of the 10 minute sermon and perhaps some special music by the choir – is participatory.

The liturgy is, in effect, a play, in which the pastor has a role (celebrant), as does everyone else; it is a dramatic reenactment of the Gospel. When you attend a liturgical worship service, you do not go to sit, you go to participate.  And, because the liturgy is so intentional, scripted and theologically sound, there’s very little a pastor/priest can do to hijack the service. It doesn’t matter if he has an off day; the liturgy remains as always. In fact, in a liturgical church, the pastor is easily replaceable, with little effect. And, you never have to worry about whether the pastor will have anything meaningful to say. In liturgical churches, it’s not about the sermon. The content is in the liturgy itself. If you pay attention to the liturgy, the truth will amaze you, and there will be no doubt that the Holy Spirit is present.  Furthermore, how you feel isn’t important. It’s not about how well you worshiped, or whether you felt spiritual; in fact, the point of the liturgy is that it isn’t dependent upon you at all.

There are scores of evangelicals, including seminary professors, who are joining the liturgical churches as they, too, are drawn toward the truth and power of the liturgy.  For a little more on what liturgy is all about, here is a nice little article that sums it all up.

The question of unbelief 2.5

My friend David Hayward (a facebook friend, anyway…) has written a very interesting post on the 10 Movements of faith, most of which don’t sound very faith-like, using words like questioning, doubt, rejection, darkness, abandon and fear.  From a Western evangelical point of view, these are bad words, things that we either try to avoid, ignore, heal, or if nothing else fails, condemn.  However, perhaps David is right; perhaps we should not fear these, but recognize them as signs of growth.

I’ve seen these stages over the years in many friends and acquaintances.  I don’t know that everyone goes through all stages, at least concerning core beliefs. As I commented on David’s blog, I think the Western evangelical church is often geared towards keeping people at Stage 1, where people can be entertained, placated, and manipulated.  Growth  – as any parent can tell you – is often hard to deal with.  Then, some folks are just better at dealing with questions than others. And, as I have mentioned, it may not be our core faith that’s challenged, but the “baggage” that we often receive along with the Gospel, or perhaps even the nature of our faith.  Again, I think David is on to something: if we never go through these stages, we’re not growing.  As my favorite songwriter has written,

It’s not that hard
to figure it out
Where there’s no question,
there’s no doubt

- Glen Phillips, There Comes a Time

As we read through the Gospels, it seems that Jesus even encouraged questioning and doubt at times – consider the story of the Rich Young Ruler, for one, or the “eat my flesh” teaching.  A preacher that I heard many years ago said that God “offends the mind to reveal the heart.”  If we won’t challenge our own beliefs, sometimes God himself will.  The ancient church traditions – such as the Eastern Orthodox and Anglican – seem better able to deal with these stages of faith, and even anticipate and encourage them.  There is a wealth in the liturgical and mystical (speaking of the old mystical tradition, not what currently passes for mysticism) traditions that the evangelical church simply cannot understand; and perhaps it is this very issue – dealing with these “negative” stages of faith – that acts as a barrier between the old and new.

So, what happens when the church fails to recognize these stages as growth rather than “backsliding?”

At the close of his post, David asks

Can we consider the possibility that someone abandoning their faith and leaving the church could actually be a potential development in their spirituality, a stage where they are being beckoned to abandon their child-like faith to move toward a more mature and adult faith? And can we allow people to linger in any of these movements without time limits? I think these are important questions to consider.

Fundamentalism, and even more temperate versions of evangelicalism, leave no room for those who have to step outside of the program. If they fail to “experience” God like they are supposed to, or question some of the teaching, they are often condemned, or treated as immature (the “weak in faith”).  However, I think we need to ask ourselves, exactly who is “weak in faith,” those who dare risk their faith to deal with their questions, or those who insist on suppressing doubt?

I’m starting to remember what Church was all about

Today Scot McKnight writes at Jesus Creed on why there seems to be a trend that

There is a rise, a burgeoning rise, of young college students converting from low church evangelicalism, with its anemic, unhistorical ecclesiology, to the great liturgical traditions: Eastern Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism.

This is happening at evangelical Christian colleges and seminaries; and, not only that, but seminary professors as well are moving to more traditional, liturgical churches (including Lutheran and Episcopalian).  As someone who was raised Lutheran and who has experienced the failings of evangelicalism for about 30 years, I truly understand why. I’ve written about it extensively here (and here) over the past couple of years.

At first, there was the explanation that people were looking for some kind of mystery, and that liturgy provided that.  While this might be true to some extent, the real trend seems to be more than this.  A couple of weeks ago I visited a local Episcopal service and spent about an hour afterward talking to a couple who had become Episcopalian in college; he had been Nazarene, she Baptist.  They spoke of the depth of theology and meaning, and the sense that they were actually in touch with the historical church.

For me, I’ve found that evangelicalism, for the most part, lacks both theology and historical understanding. You can attend some of these churches and never be sure what they believe.  I suspect that many members aren’t even aware that there are creeds, and may not be able to recite the Lord’s prayer.  They may leave feeling that they’ve failed and need to do better, but have no sense of forgiveness, or even that it’s available.

While I am still uncomfortable with some high liturgical practice (the bowing and kneeling, for example), what I like about liturgical worship includes:

  1. A connection with the historical church
  2. Emphasis on the corporate, rather than individual, worship
  3. Publicly confession of truth, in the hymns, liturgy, and recitation of the Creeds
  4. A reminder that I am a sinner and forgiven
  5. The honor shown to the Word of God
  6. Celebrating the Lord’s Supper weekly with a true incarnational understanding (rather than the weak superstition found in most evangelical communion services)

I am thrilled to have found an evangelical church that has not lost all of the above- they have somewhat of an incarnational understanding of communion, and have just started giving Bible reading center stage – but still plan on visiting local liturgical churches on occasion. I’ve found that more than just leaving Church feeling good or enjoying a sermon, participating in liturgy actually feeds my soul.  I am starting to remember what Church was all about.