A Cereal-Aisle Mentality

I've been struck lately by the consumerist culture that has pervaded the church, and in many ways, taken it over. It's not like this is any news to those of us in the church over the last 20 years, but for a number of reasons, it seems more pervasive than ever. It seems, Christians are expecting the church to be the cereal aisle at the grocery store. Stocked with every flavor, size, taste and shape imagineable, in order to satisfy the wants of the consumer. Give me what I want, how I want it. That's the gist of the consumerist attitude. And it has engrained itself into the church on every level, including worship. So now people "church shop". Now people complain about not "getting fed". Obviously, there are plenty of cases where there may be truth behind this last statement, but instead of taking some personal initiative and ownership of the issue, it's just easier to walk away and find the church that provides the right choice of cereal.


In a recent interview, Wigg Stevenson said,
"The most significant question for the church in a consumerist age is to ask what our situation means. What does it mean to be the church in an era that's so saturated by consumerism that it defines itself by consumption: We buy to be; we are what we buy; we are what we consume. The most important thing that the church can do is to recognize this about our society so as not to follow the consumerist impulse."

If that is indeed the question for the church, then what is the question for the Christian? What do we expect from our churches? What do we expect from our worship? Are we willing to look into the mirror and recognize that it is not always about "me" and "my wants"? Are we willing to be humble and open enough to place our neighbors and the stranger ahead of ourselves? Most importantly, are we willing to reexamine our understanding of the theology of worship (spectator vs. participant), so that the proper perspective (also known as Truth) guides our thinking on what takes place on Sunday mornings?

Or will we simply continue to shop down the cereal aisle until we find what we like?

Dialogue & Humility

Last week I had the opportunity (privilege really) to serve as speaker of the week for the final Family Camp of the summer at Pilgrim Pines Conference Center (www.pilgrimpines.org) in Swanzey, NH. My responsibilities were to preach on Sunday morning, lead a daily 90 minute morning session (during which I focused on the Parable of the Prodigal Son) for adults, as well as one hour long session on Tuesday night, again for adults. I also was to be available for conversations as needed throughout the week with the guests and the staff. It was an incredibly enjoyable week on many levels.

Along with times set aside to spend with my family swimming on the beach, paddling a canoe, and just plain goofing around, I am so thankful for those morning sessions, and the dialogue that took place. I began the week by sharing my own personal story and how it interacts with Christ's parable, and how that interaction has impacted my faith walk, my theology, and my understanding of the church's role in our world. I then invited people into the conversation for the rest of the week, as we dove into the text and all its richness. As a pastor, and in this case a speaker, there is always a bit of hesitancy when you move away from a prepared sermon/talk, and instead move into more of a dialogue on the scriptures. You never know if people will stay on track, if they will share too personal of a story that takes the focus off of the scripture and onto themselves, or if they will just say something plain wrong (which ends up turning the session into a debate between camps). In lots of ways it is easier to just "preach". But as I prepared for this week of talks, I really felt strongly that the Spirit was leading me into a "dialogue-oriented" week. And I'm so thankful that I heeded that call.

People's comments and discussion were right on topic. They were personal and poignant. They were respectful and honest. It was clear that I was still the speaker, and tried my best to keep us focused and on track, but it was a wonderful, freeing feeling, to know that I was surrounded by fellow brothers and sisters in Christ who were just as passionate about the text, and what it says to us (as individuals and as the church), as I am. And in that I was humbled, in a very positive and refreshing way.

My guess is that there is a corollary between dialogue and humility. And I'm hoping (praying really) for a bit more of both in the years ahead.