Anything for Money

Praxis As Tongue: How Churches Undermine the Gospel with Contradictory, Invisible Messages

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A man comes up to you and says, “This is the world’s finest car.”

Now imagine these two contexts:

1. You are in the International Automobile Museum in Munich, Germany, an architectural masterpiece of modern design. Glass, aluminum, and chrome details make the place look like it materialized out of The Jetsons. The man, each hair on his head perfectly in place, wears a bespoke suit and silk tie. He sports a badge that reads Johannes Karlsburg, Director. Others in the museum gaze with wonder upon the object of Karlsburg’s comment.

2. You are in a used car lot. A sweaty man in a bad polyester suit left over from the 1970s chomps on his cigar and adjusts his silvered aviator glasses as he talks with you about the car upon which his hand now rests. You can see through the dusty glass of the lot’s office and notice the office has a fake bearskin rug on the floor before a desk that must have come from the public school they closed down a decade ago. A cigar store Indian stands inside the office doorway. A Snap-On Tools pinup calendar on the wall is stuck on last month. And the car? It has a windshield soaped to read $599, NO MONEY DOWN!

Notice that the message of both men is identical. Only the contextual details and settings are different.

Now which man are you more likely to believe?

I have been a part of many churches over the years. I have carefully observed their messages and how they present them. What unified every church was an almost desperate desire to present the Gospel to lost people and to do that Gospel justice. Commendable, all of them.

Sadly, many of those churches crashed and burned in their efforts. Not because they stopped preaching the Gospel, but because contradictory, invisible, subcontextual messages presented by those churches overwhelmed that supposedly primary Gospel message.

This is not to say that the Gospel cannot stand on its own. It can. It does.

But God did not design us to hear only the obvious, pure, spoken text of messages. Indeed, the majority of our communication (with some researchers claiming as much as 80 percent) is understood through nontextual, unspoken means. God Himself made us to sense more than the obvious. He made us to “read between the lines.”

We are fearfully and wonderfully made.

However, churches often forget the complexity of human comprehension and understanding. They believe “the main and the plain” are all we spot.

And this is a grave, grave error.

***

A story…

First Baptist Church notices something going on at Second Baptist Church across the street. Building crews. Vans from Lowe’s. A dumpster filled.

Deacon Fred heads across the street to check it out.

Inside, Fred sees that Second Baptist has updated the sanctuary by removing the stained glass windows, stashed away the large wooden cross at the altar, removed the banners that lined the sanctuary walls, changed the altar area into a stage, swapped out the pews in favor of theater-like seats, and installed a digital sound system with computer-controlled lighting.

Fred reports this back to Pastor Joe. Pastor Joe suggests Deacon Fred do a little more spying this Sunday. So rather than taking his typical spot in First Baptist’s doorway handing out bulletins, Deacon Fred surreptitiously takes his place in the seats at Second Baptist.

Gone are the hymnals he once remembered (since Fred once attended Second Baptist before settling on First). In their place is a giant screen behind the stage. Words to songs he hears on the Christian radio station flash by along with a background video of waterfalls and sunsets.

A young man with an electric guitar seems really into the worship music he strums, backed by a band. Fred thinks he knows the band members from the local country band that plays the fair circuit and all the school proms. Maybe some of the bars too, though Fred wouldn’t know that for sure.

Following the worship time, which Fred notices is only 15 minutes, down from a half hour, a video plays and talks about all the wonderful programs Second Baptist now offers. This is followed by another video about an upcoming conference that costs $159, which everyone should attend. And yet another video, a funny one, says something side-splitting about how Christians talk and confuse people with their “members-only” language. Fred thinks the videos are all in “high-def,” a term his son often drops in casual conversation.

Fred spots Old Edna a couple seats over. She looks more ragged than he remembers. Fred wonders if her long-running money troubles are taking their toll.

Fred also notices how dark the sanctuary is now. Feels like a theater.

Pastor Glen, who used to wear a clerical collar and polyester pants, comes out in a Hawaiian shirt and jeans. He sits on a stool on stage and chats up folks for a while. Tells a joke or two. Everyone laughs. He then talks about how Jesus matters more than everything else in the world. He talks about Jesus’ death on the cross and its importance. He talks about being born again and not being like the world. Ends it all by saying the clock says it is time to wrap things up. Fred feels it was a good message.

After the message, which Fred thinks is much shorter than he remembers, everyone reaches to the arm of his or her seat and removes a small plastic cup with some juice inside and a plastic-enclosed wafer sealing the top, all sanitary and convenient. A few words are spoken as an invocation. Everyone trashes the empties as they leave, and the band plays one last song, which Fred thinks is an old Beatles number. Something about love being all you need.

On his way out, he glances into the Children’s Church area. It looks like something from a discotheque. The loud music can’t be ignored, the kids doing that pogo dance thing Fred heard about once, pumping their fists as they jump in the air. Some young guy with a guitar is yelling, “Jesus is awesome,” over and over.

Fred reports his findings to Pastor Joe. Three months later, Fred and Joe notice the parking lot is being expanded over at Second Baptist. Within a couple more months, even that expansion is full.

The board of First Baptist Church makes a decision.

Six months later, First Baptist looks a lot more like Second Baptist. They expand their parking lot too.

And it, too, fills like Second Baptist’s once did. Once, since Fred now notices more empty spaces in Second Baptist’s lot.

Then, Fred begins to notice them in First’s.

And so it goes.

Soon, all the fancy, costly programs at First Baptist run into a financial crunch because giving is down along with the attendance figures. The extra staff they hired get that dreaded pink slip. The mood changes in the church. There’s a sense that the good days are in the past.

***

Those two churches never strayed from preaching the Gospel. They didn’t water down their messages.

But other messages intruded.

 

In taking down the religious symbols…

Intended message: Our church is contemporary and speaks a modern language.

Unintended message: Religious symbols are old fashioned.

Worse unintended message: Religious symbols are meaningless.

 

In converting the sanctuary into a theater-like auditorium…

Intended message: Our church is contemporary and relates to what modern people understand.

Unintended message: We are here to entertain you, just as if you are at a rock concert or movie theater.

Worse intended message: What we do here has no more meaning than other forms of consumable experiences.

 

In moving toward a more professional caliber of musician…

Intended message: We are professional, and we Christians can excel too.

Unintended message: We are professionals and you aren’t.

Worse unintended message: Don’t bother to serve here, because you aren’t professional enough.

 

In moving toward worship that consists of top 40 Christian songs heard on the radio, with words displayed on big screens…

Intended message: We are aware of what is excellent and noteworthy, plus we understand what resonates with you and is convenient for you.

Unintended message: What we believe is worthwhile is ever-changing.

Worse unintended message: Everything is transitory and disposable, even our worship of God.

 

In moving toward videos for connecting with people…

Intended message: We can be as professional as a TV show. Hey, we get this YouTube thing too.

Unintended message: Church is meant to be entertaining. People who run this church are as approachable as TV celebrities (which is not very).

Worse unintended message: Our message is worthwhile only if it entertains you.

 

In spending a large sum of money to renovate and “improve the church”…

Intended message: What we do here is valuable, so we need to spend money to be relevant to you and to our message.

Unintended message: Money really, really, really matters here. Just like it does out there in the world.

Worse unintended message: Money, and what we do with it here, matters more than Old Edna. And you either.

 

In the pastor’s new wardrobe…

Intended message: Hey, we’re just like you.

Unintended message: Hey, we’re no different than the rest of the world.

Worse unintended message: We’re just as fake as everyone else. And possibly even more so.

 

In delivering the Gospel unflinchingly, but compactly…

Intended message: We may have changed a lot about how we deliver our message, but it’s the same message.

Unintended message: Hey, look at the clock…

Worse unintended message: While this message is important, it’s not as important as your busy lives.

 

In upholding the supremacy of Jesus and our unity in Him through the Lord’s Supper…

Intended message: Jesus is all that matters. His sacrifice for us is infinitely valuable. And so are you to Him.

Unintended message: Look how we have packaged Jesus’ Body and His blood for your convenience and ours.

Worse unintended message: Jesus is a commodity to be prepackaged and consumed with an eye toward convenience and easy disposal. If that’s how we think about Him, then that’s how we think about you.

 

In “pumping up” Children’s Church…

Intended message: Kids, Christianity is cool and fun! You can have just as much fun in church as your unsaved friends have in the world.

Unintended message: Christianity is as much a fad as anything else.

Worse unintended message: When Christianity ceases to be fun, it ceases to be worthwhile and meaningful.

 

Everything a church does in its practice and expression of the Faith either reinforces or detracts from the Gospel message. Our unintended messages often eclipse the Gospel message for this reason: Because we are more focused on those countermessages than the Gospel itself.

We cannot practice the Faith in a vacuum. EVERYTHING we do matters, not just what we say. And honestly, in a world where Christians have said a whole lot and not followed up well on most of it, what we overtly speak often takes second place to how we act and express nonverbally what we say with our lips we believe.

If we do not understand this, we will forever be tinkering, inadvertently creating mixed messages that ultimately hurt our churches.

I’ve personally witnessed the backfiring of countless church changes that worked against the Gospel and the intended message. I’ve witnessed numerous churches commit these same blunders, all thinking they are doing the right thing but never considering the unintended messages they communicate.

If you have witnessed similar unintended messages that derailed a church,  please feel free to share them in the comments. Perhaps they will serve as a cautionary tale to well-meaning change agents who haven’t thought through their “vision.”

Business, America, and the Courage to Do What Is Right

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One major lesson learned from the economic meltdown is that far too many people in American business today are morally bankrupt. And it seems the higher up you go in the corporate org chart, the more malfeasance one finds. The post-Enron push made by companies to hire more ethical workers has been shown for the farce it is. We continue to hire and promote foxes for hen-house guard duty.

With allegations of fraud dogging Goldman Sachs, and with further indictments and allegations (thankfully) coming to others behind this debacle, the question is: Are we going to learn anything about the bankruptcy of the American soul from this?

I want to pass along a story on CNN written by Bob Greene. It details a transaction that goes on many thousands of times in this country each day, though this transaction has a slight, but important, twist. Greene tells of his encounter with Mark Dalton, the owner of a mom-and-pop bookstore, after purchasing a used book online:

In 2008, I found a book I was looking for on that Amazon marketplace, and submitted an order. The price was more than reasonable: $6.95 for the used hardcover. Used books are not shipped by Amazon itself, but by the local booksellers.

A week or so after I placed the order, the package arrived, from High View Books in Smithfield, Rhode Island. The book seemed to be in good shape. I was pleased.

But with it was a personal letter to me. It said:

“Thank your for your recent book order. I have enclosed a check to you for $2.95. The reason for this is that this book is only in ‘Very Good’ condition, while I mistakenly described it as being in ‘Near Fine’ condition in my listing. Please accept my apologies for the error. (Also, please note, the soiling that you see on the dust jacket is actually on the Mylar and not the dust jacket itself.)”

[Dalton] wrote that he hoped his apology and the refund were satisfactory. Sure enough, tucked into the book was a check made out to me, for $2.95.

Greene goes on to mention that the condition issue was beyond his ability to discern. Instead, he was surprised that anyone would go to the lengths Dalton did to ensure that the sale was completely up and up, especially for an item with such a small price tag.

As they say, read the whole thing (“A $2.95 Lesson for Wall Street“).

One of these days the business world is going to wake up to the reality of genuine customer service. But beyond that, I hope they finally discover whatever moral compass the owner of High View Books possesses.

The allure of money in our society, that “get rich quick by any means necessary” mentality that permeates our culture, may be only one of our many vices, but it certainly is the root of great evil. My brother had a CAT scan done recently and got a $4,000 bill for the procedure. That’s insanity for what amounts to a glorified x-ray, but I’m sure it reflects a “gotta get my cut” reality from a dozen different sources who stand to profit from that scan.

I don’t know about you, but I find that kind of pile-on mentality wicked. Yet it’s the norm anymore in America. It’s why an airplane ticket is more fees and taxes than payment for time spent in the plane traveling. It’s why gas prices are so high, why it costs so much to educate our kids in public schools, and why the answer to everything governmental seems to be a tax hike. It’s the Great Gouge. We’ve reached an era when sick people avoid the doctor not because of the fear of a cancer diagnosis but of bankruptcy!

But in a bookstore in Rhode Island, a man realized a $6.95 used book may not have been in the condition he described, so he refunded the purchaser $2.95.

In contrast, on Wall Street we have morally bereft con men who knowingly sold worthless securities because they could get rich, even if their jackpot ruined other people.

I say all this because The Wall Street Journal once featured an article that exposed the religious backgrounds of all the major players in the Enron,  WorldCom, and other business scandals of the early 2000s. They found that almost all the people with the dirtiest hands were pillars of their churches.

I don’t know anything about the religious beliefs of the owner of the bookstore in Greene’s story. But I know that he had far more Christian character than church elder Ken Lay of Enron infamy.

The little things matter folks. There’s courage in sending back $2.95. God not only looks at our weights and measures, but He knows what we do in secret.

As Christians, do we conduct our daily business with God in mind? When there’s money to be made, do we join the pile-on, even if it ends up hurting people? Would we have sent back $2.95 because the book we sold was a fraction less perfect than we had described?

Honestly, if America wants to get back to greatness, a good first step would be for American businesses to fire the morally bankrupt (no matter how high up the org chart) and hire godly men and women who realize that the God they serve is always watching.

In ending, I want to help reward the courage to send a $2.95 refund. While I could not find an online link to them directly, I did find contact info and a means to order books directly from High View Books through Biblio. So the next time you want to buy a book, consider supporting High View Books. And let’s send a message that character still counts.

The Money God

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Here in Ohio, we have yet another voter referendum on casinos, Issue 3. In the course of the last 25 years of my life, pro-casino forces have tried to shove gambling down the throats of Ohioans with one voter referendum after another, but we’ve always gagged and spit them out.

Churches and police have stood arm in arm against gambling. Church leaders cited the studies that showed without a doubt that gambling destroys families.The Ohio Fraternal Order of Police was relentless in detailing the studies that prove that casinos lead to exponential jumps in crime.

But that was then. Now the police endorse the casinos.

Why? Sadly, I can reduce the answer to one character on the keyboard: $

Not only will law enforcement get two percent of the casino tax (which would make their share $19 million a year), but they will certainly drain additional money from taxpayers when crime increases—along with the need for more police to contain it—and the casino tax mysteriously fails to cover the added expense, as “We Who Know How These Things Work” know it will. It’s the ultimate in cynicism from the police. Rather than seeing crime as evil, they now see it as job security, their fair share of the filthy lucre, plus an additional shot at more funding. And my momma always told me I could trust a policeman. Ha!

Honestly, it’s a short trip from there to endorsing street drug sales. And prostitution. Heck, why not let the state’s legislators run a human organ trafficking ring out of the capitol building? Next thing you know, the state budget will be met by selling your liver and kidneys or mine to the highest bidder.

No bottom exists when money becomes the raison d’être. Today, morals and ethics take a distant third to money and lining one’s own pocket with it. I hate to be a cynic, but our culture as a whole in America is doomed if the answer to everything always comes down to cold, hard cash.

Look at the Roman Catholic Church and abortion. The RCC itself is staunchly anti-abortion, but the people in the seats are, by majority, for it. Big disconnect. So it’s not hard to imagine protestant churches as entities being strongly against this vice or that, but later finding that the individuals within are less inclined to match the doctrinal line. And money is a big divider.

The churches in my area are standing against the casinos, but when you talk with people outside their hallowed sanctuaries, many of them are mumbling the mantra of the casino marketers: more jobs, money for schools, and on and on. They wonder how any of that can bad.

We equate our jobs with money, so we let our jobs define us. “So what do you do for a living?” is usually the second question we ask someone after “What is your name, please?” A person’s answer usually tells us all we need to know about his or her salary. And from that we decide whether this is a person with whom we can be friends or who can benefit us as we claw our way to the top.

Heaven knows we need the right people in our churches. We make the business owner an elder and relegate the convenience store cashier to dumping out the Sunday nursery diapers.

And it’s all about money.

Truth is, Jesus doesn’t define us by what we do for a living. In other words, you are not your job. Nor does Jesus care all that much about how many earthly riches you and I have, for He looks on the richness of the heart.

I think I can also say without qualms that Jesus doesn’t like it much when we stand for money more than we stand for truth. I once visited a rich church comprised of a number of fast trackers to the upper echelons of management in one of the largest companies in town. Those men talked a great deal about stopping this vice and that in the name of Jesus. But when their own company took an antithetical position on a vice issue, these fellas shut up pretty quickly rather than risk their ascent to the corner office.

And that’s pretty much how each of us would have played the same hand, if dealt it. We really do love our money more.

What this economic dive has taught me more than anything: When it all comes down to it, we Americans will always choose money over Jesus. Jesus or Money?That’s the real American Christian either/or. And it’s only becoming more apparent as our societal restraints unravel. (Which is why it’s no coincidence that Hollywood is rolling out a timely new movie based on the old question of whether or not a person, for a large sum of money, would push a button guaranteed to anonymously kill some random person in the world. Answer: I think most people would, regardless of their religious beliefs. Of course, Hollywood wants to impose unrealistic consequences for the sake of suspense, but you and I know that most people would not spend more than 30 seconds pondering consequences. Everyone dies eventually, right?)

Honestly, I’m shocked that a few churches in Ohio haven’t publicly allied with the police to tout the need for casinos. If the casino referendum should—miracle of miracles—go down to defeat, I wouldn’t be surprised if we see some churches lobbying for gambling next time the vote comes up (which it seems to every two years). If things get bad enough, we can always find ways to put a Christian spin on just about everything. Besides, selling your soul doesn’t hurt much when you do it one small chunk at a time.

I mean, we all have our price, don’t we?