Monday, March 2, 2015

Sizing Up the Competition

Over the weekend we hosted a Waldensian Pastor (what exactly Waldensians are is a really interesting historical tangent, but not one I'm going to deal with here) from Northern Italy.  He is in this country on a sort of study sabbatical, and a large part of his study is to discuss all things cultural and ecclesiastical with the pastors and churches he visits in America.  Many of our discussions were about how things are different in Italy, attitudes towards food, cars, guns, church, the healthcare system.  I am generally of the opinion that the closest thing we American religious types have to a time machine is our ability to learn from the Church in Europe.  We can look backward to the history on the one hand, but we can also look forward as well, to see what the reality of church in an increasingly secular society will be like.
There are many differences in the context that my Waldensian brother faces as he works his way through this thing called ministry.  He is part of a protestant minority in an overwhelmingly Roman Catholic nation.  In Italy, pretty much all protestants have to stick together, because even now, the Romans run the show.  As an American Protestant, I can sort of allow myself to be neutral or perhaps even sympathetic to the Roman Catholic system, they're not holding any power over me, and have not for a very long time.  In this country, Catholics pretty much have no choice but to get in the trenches with the people they once called heretics and try to figure out what exactly being a Christian in the 21st century is supposed to be about.  From my perspective I don't really feel like I'm in conflict with other denominations, truth be told, I think I personally feel a little more kinship with Roman Catholics (especially with their neat new Pope), than I do with some of the more Red State type Christians.
But I'm a Presbyterian of the postmodern world, I admit that my bias is towards inclusiveness and universalism.  I've probably internalized a lot more C.S. Lewis and Karl Barth theology than is really recommended if you want to hold on to your in-crowd mentality.  I'm not so much concerned with whether people agree with every little nook and cranny of reformed theology, I would generally just like people to take Jesus seriously and try to actually love one another, you know rather than hating, fearing and killing each other.  I think that's a pretty good plan, heaven, hell and whatever else you want to roll about to the side, I'm really convinced that Jesus is the guy I want to follow.
When I think about the "competition" I generally don't think about other churches or even other religions, increasingly these days, I think about sports.  I know, you thought I was going to say atheism or consumerism or maybe even Islam, but nope, sports.  My Waldensian friend and I got into a conversation about football, and yes, we were actually talking about different sorts of football, but the similarities were really quite eerie.  He said that, in his experience, football (talking about soccer), had taken away much of the territory once occupied by religion.  People might go to church, but they actually worshiped at the local pitch (soccer field), Liturgical colors had been replaced by team colors, feelings of belonging ran high when you were in the presence of people who cheered for the same club, feasts and celebrations now followed big wins instead of holy days,  Each team had songs that it's fans would sing, spontaneously, from the heart, with feeling.  There are passionate discussions about the merits of players, coaches and playing style, passionate discussions, that no one finds arcane or obtuse or pointless.  Who is better Lionel Messi or Christiano Ronaldo?  People would invest in that argument, sometimes to the point of violence.  Yes, friends and neighbors perhaps sport is now the true religion of many, complete with some of the darker elements.
I couldn't help but identify, and also admit complicity in this shift.  I can discuss sports every bit as comfortably and enthusiastically as I can discuss theology, and most days I'll tell you which one I would prefer.  I can also spend hours watching ESPN, listening to everything from technical analysis to sentimental stories.  I feel an attachment to certain teams in each sport, I want them to do well, and I can be induced to despise my rivals (I'm pretty sure Jerry Jones is actually demonic, so there's a strong crossover there).  I'm not likely to get physically violent over sports, but then again, I wouldn't actually get violent over a theological disagreement either.  I am beginning to wonder how far this goes.  Some observations that are true on both sides of the pond.

  1. We educated our kids in sports with dedication.  People regularly skip church for kid's sporting events or practices.  Do they ever skip a game to come to church?
  2. We prioritize sporting events over any sort of religious participation.
  3. We deify our athletes, even going so far as to call them "idols" and "icons" and "immortal" and we are deeply offended when they fail to live up to our standards.
  4. If you asked people to donate to church the same amount they would pay for season tickets, many would get downright angry.
  5. During the NFL season at least, and this was observed to be true of the other football by my Italian counterpart, the relative mood of a whole week can be altered for better or worse by what happens to your favorite team.  Does that ever happen with what happens in Church?
I know what you're going to say, a lot of this is the church's fault.  Maybe we should do a better job articulating and advertising and maybe even entertaining.  After all, if we're not a place where people are transformed, maybe it's because we're doing something wrong.
Except, people are changed by church, some dramatically, some gradually, but transformation is a thing that happens in almost all churches on some level.  The only thing is, it cannot be forced, or planned, or made into a commodity.  I am hesitant to say there is anything that we can do to facilitate the action of God's Spirit, because that can lead to some truly bad and dangerous theology, what perhaps we need to do more clearly and more consistently is bear witness to the what is happening to us as we walk.  Why do we come to church?  
I have heard people of all sorts tell others why they root for a sports team (and yes, because I have done it for my whole life is a valid response).  People are able to articulate how they came to be a Steelers fan when they grew up in Colorado.  They are able to explain whatever evil sorcery was involved in becoming a Cowboys fan living in New Jersey (I'm talking to you Chris Christie).  They can comfortably opine about why their relationship with a sports team makes a difference in their life.
We're less forthcoming about our relationship with God though aren't we?
Or is it that we really don't know?
I have a hard time believing, in this age of choices and lack of social pressure, that anyone goes to church without at least knowing some reason for it.
When I consider all this, I'm not just pointing the finger at others, I'm stating a mea culpa, as well.  I'm not above cancelling or re-scheduling a church meeting for a playoff game, or at least really wanting to, I'm certainly not above watching Sportscenter while I'm also reading my morning devotional.  I'm just choosing to take notice.


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