One evening, with notepad and pen in hand, I visited a community
that wouldn’t be mistaken for a PCA church. What struck me from the website
first and then embodied at the gathering was their intention to be a church for
dropouts and misfits. Whatever sins and idolatries encumber this particular ekklesia, phoniness is not among them.
I estimate that over two hundred twenty-somethings filled
the cafeteria in the basement of large church building from whom this community
received space. The young adults seemed to love the singing, which included both
hymns with homegrown musical arrangements and other ‘organic music’ created by
the worship leaders. We recited the Apostles Creed.
The minister preached for approximately 40 minutes on the
subject of “Jesus Is My Hemi.” He referred to Scripture early on, but mostly
this was a topical theological message not dependent upon a close reading of
Scripture. He surprised me by his use of
terms like “ahistorical” “non-foundationalist” and “hermeneutic,” which left me
wondering if the 22 year-old skater types that comprised a good chunk of the
congregation knew those terms. (Perhaps they did.) They took up an offering, we
sang some more before they prayed for the new leadership team, and then came
the Lord’s Supper.
--- ----
Later, while reading sociology of religion at Austin Java, a
local flavor coffeehouse, I noticed a group consisting of one guy and four
women who had attended the worship service. I joined them and asked, “What
attracts you to that church? Are you members? How many times have you been?
Will you go back? Why? What did you hear tonight? Did that sermon make sense to
you? And do you know what ‘ahistorical,’ ‘non-foundationalist’ and ‘hermeneutic’
mean?”
They didn’t have a clue about the technical terms, but as we
went around the table I was surprised to hear that three of the four women and also
the guy came from conservative religious backgrounds. Two had attended the church
for the first time that evening, one had been once before, and two had been
going for about six weeks. They impressed me with their wisdom in critiquing
the church, both in what they affirmed and in what made them wary. The
conservative pastors from their youth would be pleased—the guy and these women
were sifting the various elements wisely, checking them against what Scripture
teaches.
But then there was the fourth woman whom I’ll call Veda. Veda
explicitly, almost emphatically, said she was not a Christian. She was the one
who had come once before—the previous week—and was intrigued.
Do you have a religious background?
Yes, Unitarian.
What enticed a Unitarian to check out a Christian church?
I heard about it and wanted to see.
Also, I’ve been feeling like Unitarianism is kind of empty. Everyone makes up
their own spirituality but I don’t feel really connected. I want something
more.
And you don’t believe in Jesus?
No.
Do you want to? Are you thinking maybe that Jesus is what this (her visiting)
is about?
No, definitely not. I don’t like
Christians and I’m really against Christianity. (with a laugh) I know I’m discriminating but I’ve had a lot of bad
experiences with Christians. And I don’t
want any core doctrine. But I’m unhappy with the lack of substance in what I
came from.
Are you looking for particularity?
No, definitely not. I do not
believe in particularity.
Are you looking for a tradition?
No, not really that either. I just
want to get something substantive and then maybe go back to Unitarianism and be
able to develop my own spirituality with what I’ve learned.
(Baffled) So what is it? Why do you come?
I really like Don and Seth. They
seem real. (pause……….) I really like the vibe
they give off. I’m interested. I want to keep coming back.
Veda then explained how she thought all
religions were “the
same.” I asked some questions to illumine holes in such thinking-- it's
fairly offensive to adherents of a particular religion to be told by an
outsider, over one's repeated objections, that one's faith is the same
as radically different faiths. It's an empirically false statement, but
I wasn't trying to have that argument, simply weaken Veda's confidence
in her belief.
Eventually I had to go—I needed to return to my own table
and spend time with Stephanie, and I needed to get some academic work done. But
numerous questions came to mind.
Would the Theology Police so effortlessly within earshot
throughout Reformed circles approve of the beliefs of this community? The Theology Police, as I occasionally read
their watchblogs, sometimes conflate theology and their understanding of what
culture is supposed to look like.
Would Veda attend a church that filled with scrubbed, short-haired, middle
class managers and their families?
What will it look like for the Lord to work through this
community to change Veda’s heart and mind about Jesus? Could He work similarly
through a traditionalist-culture church to minister to Veda? Of course, but she
likely wouldn’t be around them in the first place.
This church had created a come as you are culture,
and sinners were coming as they were, and hearing the gospel of Jesus
Christ.
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I think you know the answer
Fri, 05/16/2008 - 22:25 — David Wayne (not verified)I think you know the answer to your question about the theology police, now don't you? I agree, Veda wouldn't show up in a traditional church, a place like this is probably her best shot at getting a glimpse of Christ.
I wonder at her dislike of
Mon, 05/19/2008 - 09:18 — Bill (not verified)I wonder at her dislike of Christians, though. While I don't discount her bad experiences, she's actively seeking a Christian experience of some kind.
I've often wondered if sometimes bad experiences with Christians are amplified, and good encounters with Christians are minimized, as a salve to a convicted conscience.
I wish her well and hope she finds Jesus. I'm especially thankful to her Christian friends among whom she feels the freedom to say what she thinks as she works through all this.