lifeasmission

A Cost of Consumerism

August 30, 2005

As many who will read this already know, I am deeply saddened by many of the trends of the Church in Western culture. On many occasions this sadness has a tendency to slip into anger and despondency (both of which can sometimes be good and at other times bad), but at the core of me, my heart breaks when I compare the Western Church with the vision that Jesus lived out and died for. This past Sunday, in the amount of time it takes to exchange a routine pleasantry, I had a chance to experience a pronounced acuteness of this pain.

I was attending a Sunday morning service and passed a married couple that I have known decently well for the last few years. The wife is a nice lady as well as an active and engaged mother. The husband has a warm, upbeat personality, enjoys serving, and is always looking to be an encourager. We passed each other as I was walking out of one service and they were walking into the next. Neither of us had time for conversation. They smiled at me and I shook their hands and said “hey guys,” as we each went our separate ways. This may sound like an all too familiar scene, but it really wasn’t.

Underneath this hurried and superficial pleasantry I had to decide what to make of the fact that I knew that this husband had just had a nervous breakdown, checked himself into the mental unit of a hospital and was talking about divorcing or cheating on his wife. He was at his with end and truthfully had no idea where to turn or what to do.

But they were both well trained. Sunday morning, they have learned, is no place for weakness or brokenness. Smiles and nice clothes are worn lest anyone catch on to the fact that something is tragically wrong in their lives and marriage.

There is quite obviously much more to the story (most of which makes me ever more concerned about the church’s true understanding of community, shepherding, and pastoral care), but this brief incident brought a painful realization. Without really needing to give much thought to it, I instinctively knew how the rest of their morning would play out. They would continue to exchange pleasantries on their way to their seats, sit in silence next to one another through the service, sing and nod when appropriate in order to continue blending in, exchange some more pleasantries on the way out and probably utter few words to one another all the way home in order to figure out, on their own, how to wage this war.

This, I think, is the all too common consequence of the church’s adoption of our culture’s bent toward both consumerism and individualism. We either let people believe or flat out tell them that they are the most important concern of their lives. They should do what is best for them. Like fortune 500 companies we do market analyses of what people are after and we are obliged to comply – great child care, bigger screens, more parking, comfier seats, different service times, tailored ministries. We allow people to become consumer Christians and what we “ask” in return is that they not stir up the tranquil waters for everyone else with their messy lives.

Lives ARE messy – all of them to some degree or another at some time or another, are messy. If the Church is a collection of people who have recognized the mess of their lives, why are we so scared to exhibit it? Why, in the vast majority of church communities across America, do people flock in and back out the doors of church buildings without having the opportunity to meaningfully interact with others who loves them and are willing to do so right on through the mess? I don’t think it will do to say, “The context of a worship service isn’t the time or place to be dialoging with others about the crap in our lives – that happens in the context of small groups.” I can see the rationality behind that, but that’s not doing a darn thing for people who don’t have a small group or are just visiting (two realities that are far more pronounced at seeker and mega churches whose services tend to come across more as performances than authentic community worship).

I guess what I am saying is this: I would hope that, as Christians, we would seek to create communities that are wide open to dealing with the havoc that sin and deception wreak in peoples lives. I would especially hope that our worship services, the times when we gather as a community, would creatively and holistically embrace all of life – joy as well as sorrow, abundance as well as hardship, health as well as illness…

If the prophet Amos wasn’t afraid to convey God’s attitude toward the gatherings of Israel as one of hatred and despise, I think we’re on safe ground to take a good hard look at whether or not our worship services adequately reflect God’s heart for people – especially the broken, hurting, lost, and desperate.

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