The H.N.I.C.

Sometimes you just know you're right. Sometimes you just know the others are wrong. Sometimes they are so wrong and you are so right that it makes you angry. One of my favorite movies is "Lean on Me." Morgan Freeman plays a tough principal in the turbulent 80's called in to straighten out Eastside High School in New Jersey so that the state doesn't take over the school. Eastside was once a great school, but it has become a haven for gangs, drugs, and violence. The teachers have absolutely no control, and only 30% of the students could pass the minimum basic skills test. "That means," in the words of Joe Clark (Morgan Freeman), "they can hardly read." He comes to the school and immediately confronts the faculty. He reassigns them to different tasks. The tells them they are incompetent. He tells them that it is their fault the students are failing. He tells them that they are not allowed to talk in his meetings, and just before storming out of the room he announces, "And contrary to popular opinion, I am the H.N.I.C." After he walks out, one of the teachers questions the assistant principal, "The H.N.I.C?" She answers, "The Head Nigger In Charge." He's right; they're wrong. Enter anger.

Now in a way, I like Joe Clark. I like his boldness. I like his zeal. I like his vigilance. But on the other hand, he's offensive. What if I had been one of those teachers? I'm guessing my perspective would be different. And that gets me thinking about the role of the prophet. Amos was like that. "I am right; you are wrong; it's time to step up." Speaking for God, he says, "I hate..." Wow. "I hate." Amos. The H.N.I.C. He's right; they're wrong. Enter anger.

Joe Clark's situation was dire; it was urgent. It must be dealt with immediately. One school year to turn everything around. Amos' situation was dire; it was urgent. It must be dealt with immediately. God's wrath and fury was coming soon.

Most people don't change their minds because of a H.N.I.C. Most people change because of a conversation (or a series of conversaions). And conversation requires listening. Joe Clark was not a listener. Amos was not a listener. Listening takes time, and time is something they just didn't have. What about the normal world? What about disagreements with church people? What is the role of the prophet today? When does the prophet need to speak with the voice of the H.N.I.C? When does the prophet need to take the time for listening and conversation? Can a real prophet speak with speak with anything but the voice of the H.N.I.C? When it comes down to it, conversation is more effective than confrontation. But are there some things that are so urgent that they require confrontation? Are there some things that necessitate the voice of Joe Clark or Amos? The voice of the H.N.I.C?

Reality Check

Okay...I'm usually pretty hard on the whole "seeker-streamlined-plastic-programmed-contemporary church" thing, but this weekend I had a reality check. We were visiting some of my family for Easter, and we thought it would be great to worship together as a family. As a pastor, I can actually count on one hand the times that I have worshipped with my entire family over the last 12 years. Needless to say I was looking forward to it. My sister had just started visiting a new church, and so we all decided to join her. Easter came, and we all filed in to the sanctuary. We sat in the middle, and I started looking through the bulletin. I saw that we were getting ready to sing some hymns, have some kind of prayer about a list of people, and hear a message from someone who was not the pastor. I thought to myself, "Cool...it's Easter, and this pastor is secure enough to share the pulpit with someone else." This was going to be great! The guy (I think he was a deacon) got up to welcome everyone. He went on for about five minutes about how many people they had at the sunrise service. Then he made some comments about one side being full while the other side needed some more people. Then he said that they had some land they could build on if they got enough people. I felt like throwing my hand up and waving, "Here I am...I'm here...aren't you at least as happy that I am here as you are upset that some people aren't here?" But I just sat there. They eventaully took up an offering. When they passed the plate down my row, they also sent this metal bucket full of cards. I didn't know what they were, and since I was the first person on the row and couldn't follow someone else's lead, I took a card. Turns out it was an information card for visitors. I started filling it out. My mom asked me why I was filling it out, and I told her that I like to see how churches contacted visitors. But since I received one at the offering, I didn't know what to do with it after I filled it out. I just left it on the seat. They never communicated to me what to do with it. Come to think of it, they never even communicated with me what it was. When the preacher stood up (it was a struggle, I think, because he weighed about 400 pounds), he started making all these jokes (jokes that weren't funny) about how he had more time to preach. He started in on how people ought to bring their Bible (He called it "Your Word") to church. He said that it was okay for visitors not to bring their Bibles because "they don't know any different." He said that everyone needed to bring their Bibles so that they could underline things and see if he was preaching the right things. I was one of those visitors who "didn't know any different," so I grabbed the KJV from under the pew in front of me. It's funny; as I checked him, I noticed that he took many exerpts from scripture out of context. He said quite a few times that he wasn't going to be finished preaching by the assumed 11:30. I wondered about all the people who, like ourselves, had made plans after worship based on the advertised 10:30-11:30 timeframe. I thought about the guy who was meeting us for lunch who had to leave by 12:15 for work. And when we passed him on our way back to the house and I realized that he was going to work with no lunch, I didn't think the preacher's jokes about his long sermon were very funny at all. By the time he stopped preaching at noon, he had said numerous offensive things to unchurched people including, as he asked us to turn to some passage in Psalms, "If you don't know where it is, it can't do you any good." I thought about how people who might have come on Easter searching for the meaning of the holiday. I thought about people who may have entered a church building for the first time, all because they were searching for something true. I started thinking about how that church would affect someone like that. I imagined them feeling insulted. I imagined them leaving and never wanting to visit another church again. I felt dirty after I left. I felt like I had been part of something wrong. I know, we're not supposed to leave worship asking what it did for us. I know we are instead supposed to leave asking what God thought of it. And I also know that this is a very strong, judgmental thing to write here, but I think God was not pleased. I think God loves lost people so much that He was offended.

When I look at this church, like I said, I get a reality check. Maybe the consumer-driven contemporary church is better than I let on. It's certainly better than this. At least it's trying to be relevant! At least it's not trying to insult people who don't know Jesus or belong to their church. Maybe I just needed some perspective.

DaVinci and The Kingdom of God

Most people, it seems, like movies. Some more than others; some less than others. But as a whole, I'm guessing most people like movies. Some like light comedies; some like dark dramas; some like science fiction; some like documentaries; some like anime; some like sports flicks; and some, I guess like movies with lots of killing. Christians, I suppose are no different. Most Christians like movies too. Yet at the same time, I think some Christians feel the need to give up their own likes and dislikes when it comes to movies. There are just some movies Christians are supposed to like and some movies Christians are supposed to hate. Remember "Pay it Forward" a few years ago? Yeah. Definitely loved by Christians. What about "The Last Temptation of Christ?" That was a movie about Jesus, right? Sorry. Definitely hated by Christians. And now here we are, once again, caught up in a bunch of hype. "The DaVinci Code" comes out next month, and American Christianity is in an uproar. We are seeing books refuting the "message" of the novel. We are seeing churches plan entire series on the topic. We are seeing conferences and seminars on how to talk to someone about "The DaVinci Code." The Church has launched a full-force panic campaign to tackle the questions the book and soon-to-be-movie propose. Definitely. Christians are supposed to hate this one.

The last movie to get Christians all hyped up? "Narnia." It was marketed to Christians, and the Church showed up. We bought Bible covers, toys, teaching curriculum, and all kinds of marketing tools associated with the film. Christians definitely liked this one. After all, it was going to be a great evangelistic opportunity. What happened?

That reminds me of the "greatest evangelistic opportunity in 2,000 years." The movie that made lots of unexpected money. The movie that was supposed to be professional suicide for it's creator. Churches built entire programs around "The Passion of the Christ." We bought out entire showings of the film. I even heard someone from Outreach Marketing say, "Some of you are wondering why this movie has an R rating. Let me just say that R is for 'Real'." What?

I think Hollywood has figured out how to do big grossing films in fresh, new ways. Hollywood Execs are sitting back in their plush chairs loving Christians. Let's face it; we create incredible publicity...often for free! All Hollywood has to do with "The DaVinci Code" is let Christians respond, and voila...free marketing!

The Church has moved away from advancing God's Kingdom in favor of defending it. We are on the defense. Somehow we have been deceived into thinking that the Kingdom of God can be undermined by Hollywood...or Ron Howard...or Dan Brown. I was curious about it, so I decided to ask some questions. After Dan's book sat on the bestseller list for so long, and after Christians started reacting to it, I decided I needed to ask some questions. So I walked into a local metaphysical bookstore and asked this question: "Did you see an increase in the interest in goddess worship or gnosticism after "The Davinci Code" came out?" Their answer? A definitive "No."

I'm just wondering. Why are we making such a big deal about this? Why are we fueling the fire? Why are we so scared? Do we really think that this could be the "single greatest threat to the Kingdom of God in 2,000 years?" Maybe we have so programmed what the Kingdom is supposed to be that we have forgotten that we are not the kings. Maybe we have forgotten that we serve a sovereign King. Is God really bigger than Dan Brown? Is God really bigger than Ron Howard or Tom Hanks? Is God bigger than all of Hollywood? I sure hope so. If not, we're taking the right approach. In fact, maybe we better buy some more anti-Davinci Code curriculum.

Reject Worship

I was in another city in NC this weekend when I saw a church advertising a new worship service. The banner was huge. It proclaimed the name of the worship service followed by the definitive subtitle: "an alternative worship service." I have seen this kind of thing many times before; I have even heard the phrase quite a few times. But it never hit me quite like this. The church probably thinks they are being progressive, maybe even a little "edgy." Church people like to think of themselves as "a little edgy." It's cool to be edgy. I was even in a Sunday School class in a very traditional, conservative church once that referred to themselves as the remedial class. Why? They didn't use the Sunday School curriculum; they used the Bible alone! In the whole worship dynamic that thrives in churches, people talk about modern worship, contemporary worship, and alternative worship. Some are even calling it postmodern worship. Most of them do this in an attempt to get unreached people to come to their churches.

I have been hanging out with quite a few of these "unreached people," and here's what I've found out: they don't speak that language. They don't know what "contemporary worship" means. They don't know what "modern worship" means. Unless they are philosophers, they have no idea what "postmodern worship" means, and if they are philosophers, they are wrong in their assumptions about what "postmodern worship" is. And "altenative worship?" That doesn't sound very appealing. It might make them think of an "alternative school" for behaviorally challenged kids. It might make them think of an alternative to Christian worship - like some kind of rose-selling, Cool-Aid-drinking, comet-catching, compound-burning cult. Translation: STAY AWAY!!

It strikes me how most Christians have spent so much time with other Christians that they have lost touch with people who aren't Christians. We forget how they think. We forget how they talk. We forget how things sounded to us before we loved Jesus. People who haven't spent their lives in churches know nothing of the worship shift that has swept America. They have no idea that guitars were brought into churches in the 70's. They have no idea that full bands were brought into churches in the 80's. They have no idea that decks and electonics found their way into churches in the 90's. And they sure have no idea that many churches in the Bible belt think it's cool that, here in the 21st century, churches are adopting the church music of the 70's or 80's. They have no idea that "contemporary worship means "contemporary music." They have no idea that "alternative worship" means "alternative to boring."

Maybe it communicates something we don't intend. Maybe it even communicates something terrible. Maybe it communicates that this new worship service isn't the real worship. Maybe it communicates that the real worship happens at 11:00 where it is labeled "traditional" and the reject worship happens at the "alternative worship" on Sunday nights. What if it communicates that this new worship service is a half-way house of sorts? A half-way house for non-worshipping types. A half-way house designed to move cultural oddities into mainstream cultural normalcy. What if we are insulting the people we are trying to reach?

What if we stopped doing that? What if we just worshipped authentically? What if we stopped trying to get them to come to us? What if we started hanging out with them? What if we talked to them? What if we just told them about our worship?

Wow. That would be an alternative.