Christianity in North America

I Want to Be a Clone

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Is it just me or has nearly every church in this country been cloned?

In the last few months, my wife and I have visited about a half-dozen different churches. Just a decade ago, the differences between those churches in their musical choices, sermon styles, liturgy choices (including no liturgy at all), and the like would have been profoundly different. Even their emphases on particular doctrinal aspects of Christianity would have been prominently on display during a worship service, and uniquely geared to the denominational beliefs of the church. Today, though, it doesn’t matter if you go to a Free Methodist, Friends, Vineyard, Baptist, Pentecostal, Presbyterian, or any other denomination because what they show you on Sundays and through the week is identical. Say what you will about the worth of denominational factionalism, but if our churches are all aspiring to a lowest common denominator sameness, is that an improvement?

Now you can make a claim for ecumenism here, but I think it goes far beyond that. Evangelicalism is enmeshed in the church growth movement to such a degree that denominations are jettisoning their cores in order to embrace the flavor of the week. I continue to be astonished at the rate with which The Willow Creek Association is consuming churches, asking them to ascribe to Willow Creek’s ministry models without question. But is anyone asking the pivotal question: What if Willow Creek’s ministry model and philosophies are wrong?

This is not going to be a diatribe about Willow Creek or Saddleback or any of the other churches out there like them. Well, maybe I’m not being honest here, because I’m commenting on the fact that so many church out there are exactly like Willow Creek and Saddleback. Honestly, is there a church out there in the evangelical ranks that has not done 40 Days of Purpose? Does a men’s group exist in an evangelical church that has not read through Wild at Heart? Is it possible to attend a worship service in an evangelical church today and not sing a worship song that isn’t copyrighted by Vineyard Music?

What is with all this sameness? I know some would argue that this is great and that the techniques used by many megachurches are filtering down to everyone; the churches that go this direction certainly do enjoy the growth.

Yet the numbers show a disturbing issue. About 42% of Americans attend church on the weekends. This has remained fairly steady for more than seventy years. If the megachurches and their Willow Creek and Saddleback models are truly bringing in unchurched Harry and Mary, then why is this number not increasing like crazy? Or are the “church growth” churches merely cannibalizing the congregations of churches around them who haven’t signed up to be a Willow Creek Association member?

So if the overall number of people in America who are at least attending church on Sunday (and I’m not even going to attempt to determine how many of those are actually born again) is not increasing, then what have we gained in the church growth movement by embracing these ideas? Even more alarming, by embracing these ministry models, did we lose something instead?

That latter question should bother us all. I get the feeling that the baby has been thrown out with the “new ministry paradigm” bath water. Have we sold out the Lord for a trend?

I am seeing an increase in the dissatisfaction levels of Christians who have been so for many years who witnessed their churches being “cloned” right out from underneath them. I know that I am struggling mightily just trying to find a church in my area that isn’t a church growth clone. Where do you go to get back to that “Old Time Religion?” Are we in danger of forgetting how well that served us?

Now there are some out there who think this is an End Times creation of an apostate church. I have not signed on to that view just yet, but it is something to keep an eye on. The ease at which this trend is spreading is truly astonishing. It seems like every church leader is mouthing the same church growth gobbledygook no matter where you turn. And churches are adding “Community” to their names faster than they can take down the cross in the sanctuary. It seems like madness.

Or is it just me?

“Eat His Body, Drink His Blood”

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Christians today think that the worship song “revolution” that we are experiencing is something new. But for those of us who have been firmly planted on the Earth while it has gone ’round the sun forty times or more, this trend is nothing new.

Catholics like Ray Repp brought a new folk mentality to worship music around the time of Vatican II. This trickled over into Protestant churches a few years later, especially within liturgical denominations. Songs like “I Am the Resurrection,” “Lord of the Dance,” “Pass It On,” and “They’ll Know We are Christians By Our Love” all were big hits when I was growing up in the Sixties. We sang them regularly as kids and even saw a few of them creep into the adult services in the Lutheran churches I was a part of at the time.

Despite the fact that I routinely sang Larry Norman’s “I Wish We’d All Been Ready,” the one song that always seemed the strangest to me was “Sons of God”:

Sons of God, hear his holy Word,
Gather ’round the table of the Lord,
Eat His body, drink His blood,
And we’ll sing a song of love,
Hallelu, hallelu, hallelu, hallelujah!

As a young person, I found this song (very Catholic, but heartily sung in our Lutheran church at the time) always hinted at a mystery far beyond what I understood whenever the communion meal was served. But now that I am older, I find the whole thing very eerie.

As I mentioned, I grew up Lutheran. And despite the fact that no one in the Lutheran Church today will agree on this, I was taught a consubstantiation position on communion. This differs from the Catholic transubstantiation in that the bread and wine were not “magically” transformed into the body and blood of Christ before the communicant partook of the elements, but rather “something mystical” happened to those elements after they were consumed. At least that is how I understood all this in my younger days.

Later, I wound up in the Presbyterian Church. I found that their take on communion—simply a remembrance done out of the command of Christ—to be highly lacking in any sense of the transcendent, unlike my Lutheran experience. This is not to say that I grasped what I’d been taught, but the evasiveness of responses to my pressing questions to older Lutherans was bothersome. I never did get a complete handle on the Lutheran view, and if any five Lutherans of varying ages were pulled off the street in your town today, they’d all have a different take on communion, I’m certain.

Now I am not of the cannibalistic sort, but despite the fact that I’d probably get a knot in my stomach singing “Sons of God” today, something has been lost in evangelical and charismatic ranks when it comes to communion. I’d love to see us come to some higher treatment of the communion meal. It deserves more than we are giving it.

I am firmly convinced that in many ways we have simplified too greatly the entire idea of communion. A complete meal hosted in the home is more what I hope to see, and some house churches have gone this way, but I also hold out hope that an invocation and celebration of the wine and bread would entail more than the casualness we bring to it. We have lost too much mystery in our meetings, and where better to restore it than in communion?

What is your take on communion? What are your reminiscences and joys over the communion meal? What would you like to see done differently? And lastly, do you feel that we have lost something in the transcendence of the meal itself?

Blessings!

Will the Real False Teacher Please Stand Up?

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Recently, I’ve tried to make any Friday posts I do here at Cerulean Sanctum a little less intense. But after several hours of websurfing last night (I’m under the weather and it beats lying in bed!), I just had to write what I leave for you today.

There used to be a TV gameshow called “To Tell the Truth.” The premise was that a person with an unusual history, job, or reputation would join two imposters pretending to be that person. After a series of questions from a panel of celebrities, the panel would be required to separate the truth teller from the liars. The imposters got money if they managed to fool the panel. What made the show interesting is that sometimes the least likely liars managed to fool all the panel—the janitor manages to convince everyone he’s the former king of Fiji, for instance, when the real former king is sitting right next to him.

The moment of truth, the nexus of tension on “To Tell the Truth” was when the host would finally ask, “Will the real __________ please stand up?”

Last night I followed a link that led to a website critical of several well-known radio and TV preachers. You can’t be a Christian and be on the Internet and not eventually come across a site like this, but in the past I had ignored them.

Not this time.

I decided to Google the names of a few of those preachers mentioned and see how many places branded them as false teachers, heretics, or outright servants of the Enemy. Unfortunately, I started with a preacher I tend to like, Jack Hayford.

I’ve listened to Jack Hayford of The Church on the Way, a Foursquare church out in California, many times. I find him to be a breath of fresh air since he is one of the few charismatics on the radio, and because I have found that a lot of what he says resonates in me. He is a thorough Bible expositor and often mines those little nuggets of wisdom that pass by so many people when they read the Scriptures. He’s not a “charismaniac,” by any means; rather he manages to keep the fire in the fireplace, something I admire in any charismatic preacher.

I lost track of the number of Web sites that called Hayford a false teacher. Most didn’t like the fact he was a charismatic, that he tended toward a pre-trib eschatology (I’d never heard him preach on this, so this was news to me), and that he supported unbiblical political involvement—mobilizing Christians to vote for moral leaders.

Now I’ve listened to messages by Hayford several dozen times. And in all those times, I think I’ve ever truly disagreed with him concerning his message on tithing. Personally, I don’t believe in a New Testament tithe like Hayford does, but rather I see that everything should be open to being given as the need arises. I suspect that my view would brand me a wanton backslider in many institutional churches and denominations, but that is the reasoning I’ve come to. I know that Hayford’s view is far more mainstream, frankly. I’ve not heard every message Hayford’s ever preached, so I cannot say that I know all of his theology, only that I’ve found him to be reasonable and within the bounds of what is usually acceptable in the Church.

But what defines a “false teacher?” And if we apply that criteria to all pastors and preachers out there, would 99.999% of them have to rise if someone asked, “Will the real false teacher please stand up?”

Pick an eschatological scenario, say a pre-trib, pre-millennial outlook. You’ve essentially just called every pastor who does not hold that view a false teacher. Personally, I don’t hold that end times view. Do I call every teacher who teaches what I don’t believe a heretic? Am I even uniquely qualified to make those determinations if hundreds of years of church history have been filled with better men than me wrestling with just those issues?

How many times has the pastor of your church ever said something that was even a fraction off? Is his ministry now disqualified? Is anyone not standing now?

Is John MacArthur a heretic because he’s a cessationist? Is Jack Hayford a false teacher because he’s nota cessationist? If you disagree with “The Bible Answer Man” Hank Hannegraf, are you doomed to forever wander the earth as an enemy of God? Preterist or Amillennialist? Sunday worship or Saturday worship? Who’s in and who’s out?

By now this post has gone on too long, so I’ll cut to the chase.

At what point do we extend grace to teachers and preachers on issues that divide Christians? My reading of the Bible shows that Paul usually only assailed those who were way out there on issues that most pastors or preachers today would affirm as deviant. Is there any wiggle room on some issues?

As much as I believe the Holy Spirit guides into all truth, I just as firmly believe that grace exists for us who teach and preach when we goof up. I know the standard is high, and here at Cerulean Sanctum I try not to ever go down routes that are far off the beaten path theologically. I try to stick with “The Main and the Plain.”

So what do you, those of you who enjoy coming to this blog, think about this issue? At what point does someone become a false teacher, and is there ever any grace for pastors and teachers who stray from the rock-solid truth?