Where to begin...

I really don't know where to start, but start here.  It's a blog in response to a blog and a response and another blog and a bunch of comments on the first two blogs, or something like that, and it's more than a commentary on how convoluted interweb dialogue can get.

The subject of all of it, at the core, is the church: what it is, and why we go (or don't go).

I grew up as a pastor's kid, and I'm now a pastor myself, which means that I have spent more than my fair share of time in church.  It also means that I am PAINFULLY familiar with how messed up church can be.  I have been in on messy arguments and ugly debates since I was a kid.  I have absolutely no illusions that the church is perfect...

And yet, it's still something.

When I read Miller's initial moment of realization that he doesn't like singing in church, and not because the music was bad, or old and dead, or new and shallow, but just because he doesn't feel connected to God that way, I was sympathetic.  He is not as alone as he thinks.  I know lots of people who love to sing, who love to sing in church, who will hinge their choice of church on the type and quality of the music more than anything else.  But I also know that music can be a divisive factor that sets people against each other and it can be as off-putting to some as it is attractive to others.  This is NOT a referendum on the music or the musicians, it is simply a fact of human nature, and as I read further into Miller's blog and the comments, and the incredibly defensive response, and some other blogs in response to the defensive response, I realized that there is a big problem here.

I like Donald Miller as a writer, I have read several of his books and they have moved me on some level.  I think he generally gets talked about as a "voice" for modern American Christianity, as do Rachel Held Evans, Rob Bell, Shane Claiborne, but in this case Miller is not a prophetic voice of modern American Christianity, he is a symptom of the flaws in modern American Christianity, perhaps the single biggest flaw: consumerism.

I find myself flopping that term around a lot, and I suppose I need to be intellectually accountable for defining what I mean by it.  This is my personal perspective, not entirely original, but mine all the same.  Consumerism, as it relates to religion, is the quest for a faith community that does what you want.  

There is an innate religious impulse in the human soul, and there is no guarantee that that impulse will lead to God or Jesus, in fact, the biblical narrative seems to indicate that, left to our own devices, we will all eventually run headlong into idolatry of one form or another, which is why, even in the covenant of grace, we still need the law and the prophets to call us back from that entirely interior impulse.

We define right and wrong largely by what works for us, we define terms (as I just did) in a way that suits our perspective.  Our perspective is made up of more assumptions than most of us care to count or even consider.  If we were to carefully evaluate every last feeling and thought, we would be utterly paralyzed, so we take shortcuts, we make leaps of faith, and we build houses on the sand.

We are immensely skillful in justifying our assumptions, even after they have been washed away by the tide.  We can rationalize our selfish desires with all sorts of spiritual and psychological talk: I just don't learn that way, I'm just not being fed, it just doesn't speak to me.  We will completely convince ourselves that surely God wants us to be: happy, fulfilled, blessed, and satisfied, but we're essentially seeking after our own desires, with some language that tries to cover that sin in sanctimonious talk.

What would be better is to admit that they are essentially selfish desires and see where that takes you.  It may not take you back to church, but at least you're not fooling yourself.

Churches in the west are deeply complicit in this aspect of selfishness and sin.  We compete with each other to be the most attractive congregation, we tailor our programs and our liturgy to draw people who are not getting what they want somewhere else.  The sad fact is that most churches grow by attracting people who have become displeased with other churches.  And an even sadder fact is that people, who proclaim faith in Jesus Christ, are simply wandering out on their own.

My question about all this is really: what can we do?

It seems rather intractable.  I think that Jesus' parable about the sheep hearing his voice is applicable, but it can lead to fatalism among church leaders, who basically have many of the same assumptions as the people who leave their communities.  We basically think that we need to cater to religious consumers, honestly I'm not sure we have much of a choice.

I'm sure God has an answer for all this, I'm praying for ears to hear.