Brand X

January 26th, 2009

Childhood Memory I Wish Had Remained Buried

I had an interesting experience today. Yesterday, I went to a viewing, and today I attended the funeral. I won’t say what kind of church I went to, except that it was one of the older denominations.

When I first arrived, looking up at the vaulted ceiling and the stained glass, I felt a sense of peace, as though God was there. And then the ceremony got underway. And the sensation vanished.

Man, what a contrast, between this church and the church I’ve been attending.

At the church I attended on Sunday, people are thrilled to be there. There is interesting teaching which always seems to be directly applicable to a problem I’ve had during the preceding week. Worship is sincere and spirited and joyful. And the congregation is right in the middle of it. They are listening and praying and responding and worshiping.

At the church I went to today, four old gentlemen in ornate robes stood behind a mammoth table, reciting canned prayers and rituals. The people in the pews were purely spectators. I’m sure they prayed and took the proceedings seriously, and they did answer the priests as required, but it was as though they were behind a fence, watching while the four old men interacted with God. How different from my relationship with God. I carry on the vast bulk of it myself; I would literally rather die than let an intermediary handle it. I go to church for teaching and to be among other Christians, not to let some seminary graduate process me like a Volvo at a car wash. For me, it’s all day, every day. The hour or two I spend at church on Sunday is just a small part of it.

The tedium was oppressive. After forty-five minutes, I was dying to leave. I thought the ceremony had to be nearly over, but I looked at the program, and we were still somewhere in the middle of it. We got in and out in two hours, but I felt like it was three.

Suddenly, toward the end, I remembered…this is how I used to feel in church! This was the misery that made me dread church when I was a kid. I was upset by it today, because my father was there with me, and as far as I know, he only enters churches for funerals. My sister and I have been hoping to persuade him to go to church, and here he was, in this incredibly lifeless and dreary place, suffering from boredom and alienation.

I really hated church when I was a kid. I had forgotten. I think alienation was a big reason. At the traditional churches my mother dragged us to, things were done by rote. Computers could have been programmed to do the whole business. Like Disney’s Hall of the Presidents. Past writings and set traditions have their place, but when you exalt them too much, you insult people who are alive today. You imply that their thoughts and feelings and contributions are worthless. Why should I go to church if everything of value has already been done and said, hundreds or thousands of years ago? Why not put it on a DVD so I can watch it without being inconvenienced? What is the point of making me attend in person?

If I had to go to a church like that, I think I’d stay home. I felt trapped, like a claustrophobic in an MRI machine. No wonder so many churches are losing members. It’s painful to sit through that kind of thing, unless your boredom threshold is extraordinary. When I was a kid, I seriously believed that salvation was partly a reward for enduring one hour of utter misery every week. Now I have a refreshed understanding of why I felt that way.

When I go to Trinity Church, I look forward to it for two days before the service. I look forward to it on the drive. I’m relieved when I get there. I can’t wait to hear the sermon. I love the teaching. I love the warmth of the people, and their proactive approach. They come up to you and talk to you. If you’re up at the altar for some reason, a total stranger may put his or her hands on your shoulders without warning and pray for you. They invite you to get involved with church programs. They laugh. Couples sit pressed against each other. Last week we sat behind a mixed middle-aged couple, and the man had his arm around his wife the whole time. And you can literally feel God’s presence every time you go, surrounding you and rising up inside you. I always hate leaving, because I want to stay where that sensation is. On top of that, it seems like some funny coincidence happens on the way home, every time, which turns out to be a remarkable and unexpected blessing.

The new churches have their failings. They sometimes verge on heresy. They make mistakes. They don’t do a good enough job, keeping hucksters out of the pulpit. Sometimes they emphasize blessings above duty. But they are getting better, and anyway, I can’t imagine joining a church like the one I visited today. Not after what I’ve seen elsewhere. Honestly, I admire people who go to bloodless, gloomy churches where empty pomp and pageantry are passed off as evidence of God’s imprimatur. Those people have more self-discipline than I do. I do not have the strength of character to go to a church where I am miserable and feel nothing. Given the choice, I’d go to the other extreme and attend a place where people roll in the floor.

Besides, if you want to hear about error, consider this: the church I went to today ordains gays. So it’s pretty clear how much reverence they have for God’s will and the clear language of the Bible. A church that endorses sexual sin is not a good place to go for spiritual guidance. A church is supposed to lead society; a church that endorses gay sex is following. Wait and see. Any error society embraces will eventually be accepted openly by this church. Society’s approval is what matters to them. Jesus, on the other hand, told his followers the world would hate them, and that it had hated him first.

It’s peculiar; in its rites and prayers and hymns, the church I went to today is frozen in the very distant past. But its doctrine comes from the present day. Forget the Torah; forget the Gospels. Make up new stuff that doesn’t offend! Crib from Oprah! Let MTV be your guide!

If this church had real power and life in it, it would be attracting members without compromising. Because the power and life are gone, it has to resort to pandering. It’s spiritual promiscuity; a church like that is like a loose woman who offers whatever she has to, in order to attract men. No wonder the Bible uses words like “whoredom” and “adultery” to describe churches that adopt the policies of the unbelieving world. And really, why go to church to learn how to behave like non-Christians? If you want the real non-Christian experience, go to bars and movies and strip clubs. People who have no interest at all in God are much better than a weak church, when it comes to helping you experience worldly pleasures. Do it right; go to the experts. If I lose my faith and decide the Bible is wrong, I’ll be in the brothels and topless bars as often as possible. I won’t be hanging around with a bunch of confused clergymen who are no fun whatsoever.

If you’re a Christian and you quit going to a traditional church because you just could not stand it, or because you realized there was almost nothing there, you really need to give the newer churches a try. I wouldn’t try to persuade an active member of a traditional church to change, but if you find church boring and lifeless, and you can’t find the strength to attend, you might find that there are churches available now that suit you better than you ever thought possible. Please don’t judge every church by the awful experiences you’ve had in the past. If you quit going to church because you thought God should be exciting and powerful and a source of joy, you were right, and there are churches where you can find the God you wished existed. He is there waiting for you.

11 Responses to “Brand X”

  1. Aaron's cc: Says:

    You probably remember my nagging you about finding a church you like. I think people who haven’t found a “home” should start by attending 2-3 services at the nearest church in your denomination, then expand until you find you’re comfortable. Within a year, someone will have tried 20-30 congregations. More likely than not, they’ll find one they like.

    Thrilled you’ve found one.

    In my neighborhood, there are a smorgasbord of synagogues within walking distance of each other. I know many people who belong to a couple of congregations because maybe each meets 80% of what is desired and only the combination gets closer to 100%. (Some congregations near me have better children’s programs than other congregations. Some have rabbis who are more dynamic speakers but whose congregations aren’t as friendly. Some may have better classes during the week.) Any congregation that would object to “double-timing” congregations, begrudging the spiritual needs, isn’t much of a congregation. I’ve never met an Orthodox rabbi near here who’d object. The competition is good for the spiritual consumer.

  2. Edward Bonderenka Says:

    Well put.
    I was in CT last week talking to my son about Christianity. He believes in “god” but not necessarily the Bible God. Not enough “evidence”. (I sent him “The Case for Christ” when I got home.)
    He left the room, and the sci-fi channel was on. Another one of the many sci-fi movies about somebody who has a “destiny” and that “reality” is not as we think it, ala Matrix, Harry Potter, etc.
    I didn’t put it together til I got home. There is such a suspicion/desire among humans hoping that were true, that we had a destiny and a purpose above our mundane life.
    True Christianity proposes exactly that. We are to be Sons of God. The Bride of Christ. United in purpose by the Holy Spirit.
    The downside is that it’s not about “us”, it’s all about Him.
    Mainline churches do not reveal this. Evangelical churches (in the main) focus on this.

  3. SoCalWingNut Says:

    Steve, you are dead-on about the shortcomings of the established, “traditional” churches. I know many wonderful, committed believers who attend some of these and it seems to me like their gifts are being wasted. There doesn’t seem to be any encouragement for the people to get involved in things like prayer chains which are not under the direct supervision or purview of the Ordained. It is kind of like Big Government in a way from the standpoint that only the chosen few should be able to decide what is best for everyone.

    Secondly, it is very sobering to remember, as you pointed out, that Jesus told us that people would hate us for our beliefs, because they hated him first. I see it every day.

  4. TC Says:

    I was raised in the denomination that I think you’ve addressed in this post. It’s dying and for good reason.

    The last time I attended a service at a church of that denomination the priest performed a sermon that focused on the acceptance of gays within Christianity and that denomination in particular. I attended the service alone and think the priest assumed I was gay as he sought me out for my opinion, but did so in a way that sought approval. Boy, was he shocked when I spoke my mind.

  5. Steve H. Says:

    Maybe he was hitting on you.

  6. Jorge Curioso Says:

    The traditional denominations are not collapsing because they’re traditional, but because they’ve, as Edward rightly points out, turned their focus to justifying man’s (evil) desires and not glorifying God. Or, as Paul puts is, “They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator”.
    :
    Take a look at the 1662 Book of Common Prayer. King James English notwithstanding, the focus on the glory of God and man’s lostness without him jumps from the pages. The genius of the Left is to redefine words, so that even the Trinity is not really what it seems to be.
    :
    The secularization of the mainline is part and parcel of the same secularization of the public square, the academy, the school system, ad infinitum. It’s a tragedy that the mainline denominations have been taken over by radicals, and a wonderful thing that we’ve had the breadth of healthy Christian denominations that allow people to find true worship of God even while their old church is collapsing.
    :
    There are denominations out there that do more traditional services, hymns and creeds and such, for those who prefer that. Praise bands are not required. 🙂

  7. Susan B. Says:

    I know what denomination you are talking about, but I won’t name it out of respect for your wishes. I’m not surprised you didn’t feel God there — that church is being ripped apart by heresy. There are a lot of disillusioned ex-members who blog about this. (You can easily find the blogs, I’m sure.) Priests from this church brag about crossing their fingers during parts of the Nicene Creed. (Many don’t believe in the Virgin Birth or even the Resurrection!)

    It sounds like liturgical churches aren’t your thing. That’s fine…everybody has their preference. I grew up going to a Pentecostal church, but I now go to an LCMS Lutheran church (it’s a conservative, orthodox Lutheran church). I love the liturgy and the structure…I feel a real connection to God and to the many Christians of the past who have worshiped God in the same way. We believe in the Real Presence of Jesus in the Holy Communion. There is real feeling of God’s presence when you kneel at the alter and receive Jesus while surrounded by other Christians.

    Sorry for such a long comment. I just wanted to say that liturgical services don’t have to be empty and by rote. It depends on the church, the pastor or priest, and the people attending.

  8. km Says:

    I felt a lot of that feeling in the RC church I grew up in.
    Some of it is a traditional/liturgical style of worship becoming stilted (it doesn’t have to happen, but often does) – some of it is the denomination losing its moorings in scripture and drifting away from God.

  9. Juan Paxety Says:

    I, too, was reared in the denomination that you must be writing about. Beginning in the mid-1960s, the church began to turn away from tradition and adopt liberal secularism. The prayer book, much the same for 300 years, was turned to something that sounds like a bad translation from Ukranian. Favorite songs were removed from the hymnal. The congregations were talked into surrendering their church property to the diocese, so the individual members were unable to control what went on in the pulpit. The only course of action was to leave – and leave in droves they did. The church now opens its doors to converts who joined because of social issues.

    I found the 1662 Prayer Book online and use it every morning.

  10. greg zywicki Says:

    Kudos to howeverused the word “liturgical,” because that’s what you’re talking about. Lirtugy can be fresh too – it provides the framework to work in. Sort of like The Blues – the framework doesn’t change, but you can still do exciting things with it.

    Pray for those other churches, and for yourself. They’re trying to do God’s will, so he’s going to use them for something.

  11. Leo Says:

    I too was baptised in that unamed church. The one I went to for years though was extremely conservative. After it’s conservative priest was moved to another diocese it started the change. I tried one of the break away 1928 BCP churches but it just didn’t fit. I really liked the comfort of worshiping in a form that was hundreds of years old. Every sense was satisfied.
    .
    Alas, now my options are much more narrow. The easiest thing would be to simply convert to RC, but there are still a couple of theological differences I have and simply can’t seem to resolve to their benefit.
    .
    I keep on though, sometimes the sound of the kyrie eleison sung in that english way runs through my mind and I can sit back and marvel at how important the structure of that liturgy was to me.
    .
    Maybe one day one of the african dioceses will send missionaries.
    .
    Just a thought.

    .

Leave a Reply; Comments are Moderated and Not All Are Posted. Keep it Clean.