Which leads me to a point I’ve been meaning to make for some time: I’ve come to believe that it is almost always a bad idea, at least in 21st-century America, for a church to build a building.  Unless I change my mind—and I may, because I acknowledge exceptions to the above statement—I’ll never give another dime of my money to a building program.  I say this for several reasons:

• In God’s name, American churches and Christians have squandered—and no, I don’t believe that to be too strong a word—untold billions of dollars on brick and mortar.
• There is a new and healthy sense of what church is really all about that is starting to gain a foothold in America, and I welcome this new conversation wholeheartedly, because it entails in part a recognition that owning property and buildings is, at best, a mixed blessing for the church.  At best.  At worst, it has greatly hindered the cause and work of Christ.  I don’t back down from that statement.  Frankly, I’d go a step further and suggest that the same could be said, at least in many cases, of “professional clergy” (and for 25 years, I were one, and may well be again.  There, I said it.).
• How much good could be done for the cause of Christ if we viewed our given churches, not as enduring institutions, but as movements that may come and go, but which would serve God “for such a time as this”.  The death of a church may be, in most instances, a sad event, but there are many churches that are dead and don’t know it (and thus ought to close), and many others which will do so over the next few decades.  I fully expect to live to see a time when we will have scores of once-beautiful church structures dotting the landscape, serving as bars and theaters or rotting in the sunlight, because of a combination of at least two things: one, God’s people getting a better grasp on what church is supposed to be, and two, because the American public (and millions of professing Christians) will be increasingly turned off by churches that don’t gain such a grasp.

Look, I’m not against churches of any size, from mega-churches on down, gathering together to worship on Sundays, and I recognize that there need to be gathering places for such groups.  Fine.  Rent one.  Renovate one (invariably cheaper than building from scratch).  Put up a tent or meet under a bridge.  Meet in a parking lot when the weather’s nice (it’s been done).  Go the early church route and meet in homes (something Biblical about that one, huh?). Take your pick.

But agree with me that it’s sad to hear pastors lamenting the fact that all sorts of financial commitments keep the church from more effectively…being the church.

It is one thing—one appropriate thing, of course—to stand for Christ and His truth.  It’s quite another to do what these people are proposing, which constitutes, not a stand for Jesus, but a needlessly offensive, counterproductive affront to people of another faith.  Never mind the fact that that other faith is, as Christians believe, a false religion—our purpose as followers of Jesus must be to love and to win to Christ, not to stick our thumbs in their eyes.  These people aren’t quite in the league of the “God hates fags” loons from Topeka, but you can see ‘em from there.

But the guy who introduced him, prior to his speaking to a large national conference, went on for the better part of ten minutes singing the praises of this particular pastor.  I kid you not; for nearly ten minutes, he lavished praise and adoration on a guy who, last time I checked, put his britches on one leg at a time.  A significant part of the praise had to do with the outward manifestations of the man’s “greatness”, related to the size of the church he pastors, and other size-related stuff.

It’s all about being “big”, having numbers, being able to boast (“in the Lord”, of course) about the bottom line of baptism, bodies, and bucks.  Yes, there will be, at many such gatherings, some nodding acknowledgement given to “those courageous and faithful pastors who labor in the little country churches”, yada yada yada.

But we don’t believe it.  And we don’t mean it.

Because what we really believe is not demonstrated by the words we say, but by the things we do.  And what we do, almost without fail, is to celebrate the superstars, to insist upon parading the “success stories” of Christian ministry (defined as those who pastor the “fastest-growing churches”) before people for all to admire (and, I suppose, emulate).  Because we’re addicted to bigness, and far too many evangelicals worship it more than they worship Jesus.  I read recently of one conference which took a Twitter poll or something asking prospective participants to vote upon who ought to be invited to speak at the conference.  Funny thought occurs to me…wouldn’t it be funny for a bunch of Christians to get together and nominate, I don’t know, Nancy Pelosi or somebody…

So here’s a suggestion for the next big denominational conference of Christians (actually, I’ve got two): Suggestion 1: Take the names of all of the denominationally-ordained men serving in pastorates in the movement, put ‘em in a hat, pray about it, and then draw out a few names and let them be the speakers at the next big denominational shindig.  Suggestion 2, if Suggestion 1 is a bit too radical (and it probably is): get every one of your denominational superintendents to nominate, say, three candidates.  One would come from a church of over 500, one from a church with 150-499 people, and one from a church with an attendance of less than 150 people.  Put all those names into a hat, pray, and then draw out as many speakers as you’d need.

How refreshing would THAT be?

That’s coming; I’m actually planning an apologetic series on the subject soon, spurred on not only by the article this refers to, but also by some sincere questions from a friend who doesn’t understand my point of view on the subject.  That’ll be fun…

This post, however, is about the crying, desperate need for the church to be the church—on at least a couple of fronts.

Jennifer Knapp Comes Out

I have never listened to Jennifer Knapp’s music.  I couldn’t name a song of hers, but I do know that for a period of time, she was “all that” in the world…resist the urge to say, “cesspool”…urge resisted…of contemporary Christian music.  It had escaped my notice, but she took a 6+ year hiatus from singing and producing albums.  Now, she’s back—and according to the article, she’s homosexual; currently, she’s in a same-sex relationship that has lasted for a number of years.  She’s got a new album coming out next month, one that she claims is not a “Christian album” (by the way, is “album” the right word anymore?  Hmmm…).  Fine.  More power to her.  This is not a post about homosexuality.

It’s not even, per se, a post about the reasoning she uses—actually, fails to employ much of, if you read the article—to justify her lifestyle.  But this is a post about the church—and the crying need that exists for the church to be the church.

She answers, in response to the question, “are you currently in a church in Nashville”, a terse “no”—and yet she wants to go on to talk about her faith.  This is the problem—or at least one of the problems—or at least a symptom of a greater problem—or a symptom of one of the greater problems (the latter is my final answer, Regis).

A quick caveat, just so I’m clear: I have a wide—and growing ever more wide—tolerance for different kinds of expressions of the body of Christ.  Each form of church has, to my way of thinking, its strengths and its limitations, whether that form be the “mega-church” or the house church, the denominational church or the independent church, the ethnically-diverse church or the homogeneous church, the seeker-sensitive, traditional, contemporary, or emerging church, or what-have-you.  I’ve become a lowest-common-denominator kind of guy when it comes to thinking about church; hit the minimums (and there are a few, but only a very few), and I’m down with that.  Digression over.

Here’s the deal: we have a system, and it involves not only the Christian music industry, but the Christian publishing industry, the Christian radio industry, and likely other “Christian industries”, not limited even to media, that virtually ignores the church except when it comes to marketing its wares to the church.  These entities are unaccountable to the church; the bottom line for many of these industries has little to do with the mission of the church; in many cases, what these entities are peddling is actually counterproductive to what God has called the church to be and to do.

And what’s as bad, or even arguably worse, is that neither the church, its leaders, or its individual members seem to give a flying rip about correcting this terrible arrangement.  Will Jennifer Knapp receive airplay on Christian radio?  Will her album be bought—and enjoyed—by Christians?  Beyond this, I refer you to some of the questions I raised a few weeks back about Amy Grant.

But for that matter, what church(es) approves Casting Crowns as fit for ministry, and holds the band members accountable—and beyond this, why is this information not public knowledge, prominently displayed on all its CDs?  Jars of Clay—who holds those guys accountable?  Stephen Curtis Chapman?  Look, I don’t mean to suggest that accountability isn’t happening—I hope it is, of course—nor that Jars and SCC are heretics—I have no reason to believe that at all—but why don’t we know about this, so that we can with confidence say, “somebody is helping keep these guys in line; they’re involved in a real, solid, Christ-honoring, gospel-declaring church.”  Or, conversely, we can say, “I don’t care that Phillips, Craig, and Dean sing well; their theology is highly-suspect” (and it is; did you know that?).  Writing a Christian book?  Super!  What local body of believers puts its imprimatur upon you and your work? Who is telling Christian radio, “quit playing that silly Jesus-is-my-girlfriend music”, with the expectation, yea demand, that somebody there listen?

Sad truth is, this stuff doesn’t seem to matter to most folks, even professing Christians…but it matters, because the church matters.  Because the gospel matters.  Because Jesus matters.

“If you’re going to catch a fish, you have to have bait. If it takes a helicopter dropping 5,000 eggs to get people to come to church, it’s worth it. There are souls to save.”
—Matt Woodfill, pastor of The Woodlands Christian Center in Houston describes his church’s Easter outreach strategy.

“They’re coming for the loot and they’re going to leave with Jesus.”
—Pastor Bill Cornelius from Bay Area Fellowship Church in Corpus Christi, Texas, about giving away 16 cars and 15 televisions during their Easter celebration.

“Barbie’s very versatile that way. She’s open to new possibilities, so evangelism is definitely in her future.”
—Rev. Dena Cleaver-Bartholomew, rector of Christ (Episcopal) Church, in Manlius, New York, and the creator of Episcopal Priest Barbie Facebook page.

“We paid the electric bill, we paid the heat, we paid the bills.”
—Pastor Robert Farah of Center Harbor Christian Church in New Hampshire, explaining what he did with $470,000 his son allegedly stole from investors and donated to his father’s church.

If I agreed with any of the philosophies espoused by these pastors, I believe I’d quit pastoral ministry tomorrow (although I’m not sure about the Barbie thing…).  Thoughts, y’all?