My Hope for What the Church Will Be, Part 1

As someone who revels in the outdoors, most of my hobbies get me out into nature. I've been birding since I was fourteen, taught outdoor education in zoos and camps, and would rather spend a night out under the panoply of the heavens than any stuffy old bedroom.

When I consider the heavens, the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars that Thou hast appointed, what is Man that Thou art mindful of him, and the son of man that Thou dost care for him? Every time I catch a glimpse of the night sky, Psalm 8 rolls off my lips from out of my heart.

I recently added geocaching to my arsenal of outdoor activities. Together, my son and I have found 55 hidden caches in our area in our first six weeks. It's a challenging activity and a whole lot of fun.

Geocaching presents another intriguing benefit. Not being in the typical workplace, I've witnessed my personal network dwindle to only a handful of names. Since I have no hobbies that require other people to make them happen, I decided to attend a geocachers meet-up to broaden my contacts and get my face out there.

Last Friday, my son and I met up with our fellow geocachers. About 33 people showed up. Curiously, I knew most of them by their "cache name" nicknames as I'd already come across their log entries in the caches and in the electronic logs at Geocaching.com .

I was new. No one knew me. Everyone greeted me and my son. We were immediately welcomed into the greater body of local geocachers.

Time ticked on, but none of us noticed. People shared their exploits. Stories about hard-to-find caches abounded, including one notorious one that had sent my son and me sliding along with trees and rocks for about a hundred feet when the hillside we were standing on collapsed. (Yes, very scary, but God was faithful and we were remarkably unhurt.) When I got engrossed in the conversation, the lady presiding over the get-together spontaneously watched my son so I could hang with the veterans and soak up the geocaching wisdom. And while the meeting felt like a throwback to the kinds of engineer parties I remember in Silicon Valley (I now know the hot sport for techies in my area), everyone was glad to have me there. They clued me in to insider talk, showed me their collections of treasures harvested from various caches, and made me feel like I'd been a part of their little cadre forever. We had to leave a little bit early, so we didn't get to see the gifts handed out to those geocachers who had achieved certain milestones (like 1000 caches found). That would have been nice to witness, though.

Driving home, I couldn't shake a few thoughts about that meeting:

Though I was a sheer beginner, no one looked down on my lack of experience and feeble knowledge. They respected me for how far I'd already come.
People made sure my son and I felt included.
The wise among them wanted to let me know their secrets.
The host looked after me, took care of my child so I could learn more, and dropped me an e-mail later to say how glad she was that we'd been able to attend.
People there were genuinely excited about what they did and shared stories that bolstered comraderie and the activity itself.
Anyone who shared in the love of the activity was welcomed. Old people, families with young children—it didn't matter.
If people didn't immediately grasp all the rules, that was okay. Questions were eagerly answered and without judgment.
The very best among them were esteemed for what they'd accomplished.

You can probably see where I'm heading, so I'll just say it:

Wouldn't it be great if all our churches in America were like this?

Honestly, a geocache box is nothing in the scheme of things. Geocaching will pass away like all things in time. But why then do we Christians, the ones who are ambassadors of the Living Christ, seem far less excited about Him than these geocachers do about a piece of Tupperware hidden inside a hollow log in the woods?

Wouldn't it be great if our meetings were filled with people talking about what Jesus meant to them? Unity, Mercy, Love What He'd done in their lives today, yesterday, and the day before that? If people can get excited about finding a 35mm film canister wedged in a woodpecker hole, why do we seem so bored with Jesus, who is Lord of the Universe?

We wonder why it's harder and harder to get the lost to take notice of Jesus. I can say with all honesty that if we were as excited about Him as these geocachers are about their sport, and we conducted our meetings as welcoming and as informative as that geocachers get-together, our churches might be packed—or at least people wouldn't write them off so easily.

If you're a Christian, then you have a built-in network of people who should be on your side for eternity. Yet all too often that network suffers in comparison to some of the networks the world has to offer.

When his buddy upchucks the evening's revelry, the barfly cleans him up. When the drug addict has no place to sleep, he calls another addict who lets him crash at his place. The bartender, out out on the town on his own for once, leaves his waitress a big tip because he knows how it is.

The Bible says this:

For the sons of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light.
—Luke 16:8b ESV

The sons of this world get it. They know they have to fight for everything because they have nothing else to back them up. That's why a real friend means something. A real friend will cover your back.

We take for granted what the Lord bought for us when He created the Church.

That's where we'll pick up in the concluding part of this pre-hiatus series. Look for it before the week is out.

Thoughts on “A Church for People Who Don’t Like Church”

Why Church? A couple days ago, I posted "A Church for People Who Don't Like Church" about a local church who boasted such a thing on their huge sign. Many of you posted some excellent responses to the question of what makes people not like church.

Today, I'd like to discuss the three lacks I see as being deal-breakers for most people, Christian or not. Sure, more lacks exist than these three, but I think any church that overcomes these will be 90 percent on target.

3. The church accentuates the inconsequential while downplaying the essential.

I was once a part of a church that deemed repaving the parking lot more important than world missions. True, if a church's parking lot resembles the Grand Canyon, visitors might be a little turned off, but it's the priorities of the heart that come through. Even unperceptive people can tell when something big's out of whack. And though we occasionally give unbelievers no credit for discerning the deeper waters of your Christian heart or mine, folks are less stupid than we believe.

If we gush over our church's beautiful sanctuary, but ignore visitors, we choose the inconsequential over the essential. If an elder goes on and on about how important tithing is, while the discipleship program at the church is non-existent, then we've got our priorities screwed up.

I don't know about you, but I suspect that most people who walk into a church have their senses on full alert. They're scanning and evaluating every single second of their time in a church. To make matters worse, our inherent American skepticism only enhances the full bore analysis of everything a church does. Visitors, Christian or not, can see through the veneer we've been cluelessly polishing for years.

Some people get overwrought about those churches that play up the kind of coffee they serve out in the lobby. If a church wants to whisper something positive about the quality of their coffee that's fine so long as they shout the Gospel from the rooftops. Sometimes it seems—at least to me—that the gushing over the free-trade, rainforest-preserving coffee is given greater honor than Jesus Christ.

An obvious example, perhaps. But what inconsequential things do our churches trumpet while they totally ignore the essential heart of Jesus?

Personally, I think every aspect of what a church is and does should be held up to scrutiny. Accentuate what is permanent and lasting and downplay everything else. Don't keep stumbling around in the old status quo. If our churches aren't making a difference in the lives of their congregants or are failing to impact the community around them, then a real gut check is needed.

Put it all on the table and shine the light of Christ in it. The gold will always clarify if we do so. Then let's put it on display.

2. The church's people are cold, self-absorbed, or immature.

I don't care how impenetrable or crusty a person might be, she'll warm to people who are loving and genuine. But more than one impenetrable or crusty person has turned his back on the Church, never to return, because he encountered disagreeable Christians.

Listen, we're the aroma of Christ. Put a fresh-from-the-oven cherry pie out on the table or fire up a carafe of hazelnut-infused coffee and watch how that luscious aroma sets mouths a-watering. How much more will people who are saturated with the perfume of Jesus attract others! But if we're a people of hope and joy, why is it that so many people are turned off by Christians? Is it because we're sending the opposite message? Do we smell bad?

While some people flow in the gift of hospitality, others can learn it. Seriously, you can teach people to be more friendly and caring. We can be more considerate. Having a little consideration head our direction couldn't hurt, either. Contrary to popular belief, you can't kill someone with kindness. In fact, I would guess that most people are dying for a little love to come their way.

I've lost track of how many times I've walked into a church and feigned ignorance of all things "Christian" in order to get a visitor's-eye-view of what interactions come my way. Nothing hurts more than to walk into the most widely known church in this country and walk out an hour later without a single human being saying anything to me. Not one word.

Who we are as genuine, caring people makes an impact. If the Church of Jesus Christ can't out-love a sewing circle, softball team, or motorcycle club, then perhaps we should stop asking why people are choosing to spend their time elsewhere.

1. The church lacks the transcendence of the Father, the fullness of the person of the Son, and the immanence of the Holy Spirit.

My wife and I discussed this concept of "A Church for People Who Don't Like Church" and came to the same conclusion that nothing—absolutely not one thing—can substitute for people encountering the Godhead in our meetings. Why would anyone darken the doorway of a church that has never seen the Holy Spirit dwell there in power?

Being a charismatic disqualifies me in the eyes of some people from being able to speak about the brooding of the Spirit in our church meetings. They automatically assume I'm some tongue-speaking nutjob jumping pews with a cobra in one hand and a cottonmouth in the other. But I've been in meetings—too few if you ask me—where the Spirit was so thick in the room it was like swimming through oil. For all our talk of being a New Testament Church, I can't read the Scriptures and see any other kind of church than the one where God shows up and shakes everyone. Folks, that should be a normative experience for us! Too many of our churches resemble the Sahara instead of India at the height of the monsoon season. We've satisfied ourselves with a drizzle when the floodgates of heaven are poised to rain down on us!

People are dying to know Jesus as a real person. Our churches in this country are doing a massive disservice to each person who steps inside their building if they fail to present Jesus in His fullness. Yet how often do we shy away from this aspect of the Lord or that so as not to offend people with the truth of who Jesus was and is?

The cross may offend, but we're not getting enough people to that point because we've not made enough of the attractive person of Christ. Of course people don't want to die at the foot of the cross if we've never given them a reason to be so in love with Jesus that taking up the cross becomes a small burden to bear. Every man, woman, and child on this planet is dying for Jesus. I'm convinced that even the most heinous person to walk this sod has some hunger for the reality of Christ in his or her life. Our problem is that we've not preached Christ enough to meet that need. We can't be shrinking back from the truth about this Person we claim we love enough to die for.

Nor can we preach a small God who only exists to satisfy our relentless cry for self-aggrandizement. The folly of most megachurches consists of tossing out the Father's transcendence and otherness in favor of the celestial grandfather monstrosity so many are selling. The Orthodox churches understand this; I suppose that's one of the reasons that so many megachurch burnouts find Orthodoxy attractive. What else explains the rapid growth of Orthodox Churches in the last five years? If God is not transcendent, then we're worshiping the wrong God. I suspect that many people are, having been sold on easy believism and "God, our buddy" shenanigans.

Let's face it, we'd be packing our churches if we approached this correctly. As Leonard Ravenhill was fond of saying, "You never have to advertise a fire." Show me a church that upholds the transcendence of the Father, the fullness of the person of Jesus Christ, and is so filled with the immanent presence of the Holy Spirit that people can hardly walk into the sanctuary, and I'll show you a church people will be dying to get into. Even if they ultimately reject what they've experienced, they'll never be able to say they failed to encounter God in a Christian church.

Those are my three.

If these have struck a chord with you, leave a comment and tell me what you think. Better yet, leave a comment and let me know how you can employ these three in your own church.

Have a great weekend.