I hate church.
I just need to throw that one out there.
Ever since I was a little kid, I've always hated church. My mom would always pick out these awful turtleneck shirts that I despised. Or even worse; the dreaded oxford button-down.
I became a delightful pre-teen and I was now able to tolerate church, but still hated it. I told myself that I hated the people, but I probably really hated the fact that I had to pull out my religious dog and pony show every time I stepped foot into Sunday school class, or else fear being labeled a pagan.
Now as a teenager turned quasi-adult, I'm usually okay with church. Yeah, I go and generally hear a sub-par band and a message aimed at an audience 20 years older than I am, but I'm still okay with it, even though I'd rather be sleeping.
However, as I've grown and matured as a Christian, I realize that while I hate going to church less and less, I've started to hate the church more and more.
That is a truly awful statement, and let me clarify: I love the church. I think that this idea from God that we would have a network of people to love, support, edify, encourage, and take care of one another is beautiful. When I read about the church in a place like Acts 4 and 5, for example, where we see people giving possessions to one another freely because others in their congregation needed them, I am stirred. I am moved.
I guess a more accurate statement would be to say that I hate what Christians have made the church more and more.
I have a lot of gripes about the church as a whole, but my main one is this:
Relevance.
You see, as I read my Bible and as I learn more about this man named Jesus, I learn that above all else, he was relevant. He taught about topics that affected normal, everyday people. He performed signs and wonders to normal individuals. What's more relevant to a crippled person than having his or her hand restored to full health, allowing them to work, make money, play with their children, and enjoy time with family?
Nothing.
But then I look at the church today, and I see some things that are so hopelessly irrelevant.
Bad music.
Poor decoration.
That "churchy" vocabulary.
A lot of church people who have no desire to seek and save the lost.
My favorite: the 24-week sermon series on the topic of something exciting like finances.
Did I mention the bad music?
I do recognize that we have some great churches across the world who are extremely relevant. I applaud them for their efforts. I also recognize that to some degree, I'm simply being somewhat of an idealist. However, I also recognize that we serve a God who said that we are to be perfect as he is perfect (Matthew 5:48). I think that should apply to how we do ministry as well.
Excellence is not an option.
Second-rate should not be an issue.
You see, to me, if Jesus was relevant to His culture, then that means I have a responsibility to be relevant to mine. In fact, for me to not be relevant is to not be like Christ. Where I come from, we call that sin.
If you hadn't heard, I work at the Gap. There are a lot of things I love about my job, but the one I love the most is the interaction with people, especially the employees I work with. After the store closes and we spend 2 hours cleaning up for the next day, you would be surprised at the conversations that take place. You hit a lot of issues. However, relgion (especially Christianity) seems to come up quite a bit. Every time, it pains my heart to hear someone express to me how they have no interest in Jesus because the "Christian" people around them had no interest in adapting the message of the Gospel to them and to their needs.
They were irrelevant.
So many people still have this awful idea of a God who lives high up in this lofty building with a steeple. I can work to change that, but the fact is that it's hard to correct the damage. Once a person labels something as irrelevant, there's no turning back. It's a done deal.
We must instead turn our churches into places that embrace relevance.
We must turn our churches into places that embrace the real (relevant!) Jesus.
I'm not advocating turning the Gospel into some sort of glossed-over, sugar coated idea. We see a lot of people try to make Christianity more sleek, post-modern, and sexy, but in the process they totally pervert the message and Jesus is lost in the disaster.
Instead, I propose that each one of us make a commitment to be relevant. Wherever we are, we will choose to reach out to our culture not by being churchy, but by being practical.
By being love.
By being forgiveness.
By being grace.
By being mercy.
By being attentive.
By being a servant.
By being friends.
By being Jesus.
Maybe one day, I won't hate what we've made the church anymore.
Maybe one day I'll love it. |