Category Archives: church
As part of Oasis Church Grimsby we’ll be celebrating the summer solstice with a forest church gathering. Very informal, as all of our gatherings are, and marked no doubt by the familiar sound of children tearing around and having fun, we’ll get together in a small piece of woodland and share some life and friendship together. If the weather is kind to us, we will bake some bread on a barbeque or open fire.
Fire has been part of solstice celebrations for many many years, since before the development of Christianity in fact, the primal force of the flame reflecting something of the power of the sun – offerings made into the fire whisked upwards towards the heavens on a thermal draft. Back in those times, clever people built stone structures which were perfectly aligned to the light of the sun on these special occasions, and the day itself was believed to have a propitious magic.
The solstice was also seen as a new year, and celebrated as such. As a time of transition, offerings were made to thank or appease relevant spirits who might be able to affect harvests, water supplies and the welfare of animals. In our more ‘rational’ age such spirits have largely been forgotten, with solstice celebrations being left to those perceived as oddballs and refuseniks.
But I think that more of us should celebrate the solstice. In particular I think that Christians should celebrate the summer, and winter solstices.
One reason for that is that I think its a very good thing to reconnect ourselves with the ancient patterns of the world, it’s healthy for us to find ways of making a connection with the earth.
Everything we do and interact with these days is alienated from the earth, we buy bread that comes neatly wrapped in a plastic bag, we buy clean vegetables and packaged meat from supermarkets. We clean our teeth with a mysterious paste that comes out of a tube, our clothes although often made from plant fibres, bear no resemblance to the raw materials they contain.
Our alienation is almost complete, were it not for walks in the country, gardening, and so on, the only way we would experience the natural world would be through our televisions. I generalise of course, lots of us are much more connected to nature than this, but you get my drift.
The word ‘solstice’ is a compound of two Latin words, ‘sol’ meaning ‘sun’ and ‘sistere’ meaning to ‘stand’ or ‘halt’. It’s a time when the sun seems to stand still, to hang in the heavens for an unusual amount of time. And its a time when we humans can be still too – when we take time out of our alienated lives to be thankful for the world we live in. To be thankful for the fruitfulness of the earth, and the life that comes from the sun. Some say all life comes from the sun, and that’s more or less true – plants have life because of photosynthesis, creatures have life because they consume plants, or consume creatures that consume plants. More or less all life is viable only because of the sun.
So yes, I believe it’s a good thing to celebrate the solstice. Christians in particular should celebrate the summer solstice and give thanks to the great spirit who they understand as the maker of all things, including the massive ball of incandescent gas which we know as ‘the sun’.
But lets not make it exclusive, non Christians should celebrate the summer solstice too, indeed we should all do it. The mid point of summer has arrived, it’s a special time. Give thanks to God, the universe or whatever you believe in, or if you prefer, just think happy thoughts. The sun gives us life, and this is it’s high point, we should celebrate it.
Having previously outlined how evangelical thinking has dualism at it’s heart, how this has caused a problem, and how it impacts the way evangelicals typically understand ‘God’, I want to turn now to my own reflections on this issue.
Over some period of time, I have moved from a classically dualistic transcendent view of the Divine towards a way of thinking called panentheism. I perceive this way of thinking as being a much more helpful way of seeing God.
According to panentheist thinking, God is both transcendent in the dualist sense, but also immanent. God is simultaneously both here and there. He or she is, to use a traditional term, omnipresent.
This adoption of panentheism removes the issue of seeing through an entirely dualistic lens: we can recognise God as ever present, allowing us to see God in those who we might otherwise have seen as ‘others’. But it doesn’t necessarily entirely rid us of concepts such as ‘right and wrong’ or ‘good and evil’ for instance. What it does is put them into perspective.
Panentheism as a stance is well expressed by Marcus Borg who said: “God is not a supernatural being separate from the universe; rather, God (the sacred, the Spirit) is a nonmaterial layer or level or dimension of reality all around us. God is more than the universe, yet the universe is in God. Thus, in a spatial sense, God is not “somewhere else” but “right here.”…” (Borg, The God We Never Knew, 1998, 11 – 12)
A panentheist approach is, I believe, much more inclusive than dualism which I think is problematic and exclusive. A panentheist can more readily overcome the barriers between us and others, by recognising that those barriers are irrelevant, and illusory. That being the case, a panentheist approach drives us towards re-engagement, as we recognise that whilst we are apart, whilst we are separate, we are not whole.
This view of God and people changes the way we must look at everything. It calls for a radical re-engagement with the other as we begin to recognise that ‘God dwells and is present substantially in every soul…’ (Julian of Norwich)
Archbishop Desmond Tutu said: ‘God’s dream is that all of us will realize we are family – we are made for togetherness. In God’s family, there are no outsiders. Black and white, rich and poor, gay and straight, Jew and Arab, Muslim and Christian, Hindu and Buddhist – all belong’… ‘God’s love is too great to be confined to any one side of a conflict or to any one religion.’ (Tutu, Desmond Tutu’s Recipe For Peace, 2004)
From my perspective, Tutu’s point about conflict is very helpful. My own reflections on this has helped me understand that I have certain underlying assumptions about (for instance) politics, and crime. But Tutu points out that God is simultaneously with both offender, and offended against. God sits across differing sides of disputes, he/she is not on ‘my side’ no matter how much I might demonise the other in my mind.
Although I don’t feel the need to dispense entirely with dualistic notions of justice and injustice, good and evil etc, I need to locate them in the idea of Shalom the holistic love and peace of God. Christ as ‘saviour’ in this sense is the one who restores us, who brings us back to that wholeness. The verb ‘sozo’ which we translate as ‘save’ also means to heal or make whole.
God then is simultaneously with us, in us and around us. Others too are the same as us, our separation although real in one sense is also illusion. We are all family – discrete yet the same.
The problem we face then, obviously enough is that we are so manifestly physical, and God is so manifestly not, making it extremely difficult to understand that wholeness. But Jesus, who we can at last understand as the incarnation of God, or God in human form (not part of God, or a separate person, but fully God and fully human) comes to restore us to wholeness, to demonstrate to us the Shalom of God, the holistic peace and love which is freely available to us, and which is surely our destiny.
As the manifestation of this holy wholeness, the personification of eternal love, as fully God and fully human he is clear – ‘I am the way, the truth, the life…. no man comes to the father but through me.’ This is not a statement of dualistic separation, an ‘I am better then the others’ boast, it’s a statement of reality – Jesus lives and calls us to live the reality of Shalom in the here and now – love God, and love your neighbour as yourself. That’s the beginning and the end of it.
Having already stated that evangelical thinking uses a dualistic lens to create a divide between ‘us’ and ‘others’; I now want to consider the other way that dualism has infected the way evangelicals think, namely the ‘othering’ of God.
Not only are people ‘other’ to ‘us’, but so is ‘God’.
Language of transcendence is often used to speak of the Divine, I use it quite frequently myself. But while it can be helpful in talking about aspects of the nature of God, when God becomes solely transcendent as in the ‘Theist’ or ‘Supernatural Theist’ way of thinking, we have a problem.
When God is entirely transcendent, there seem to be places where he or she is not present, essentially places where God does not exist. These places may be in people, in the hearts and minds of those who we feel are evil or wrong; physical locations; or objects.
For some this is manifest in power relationships – God cannot be present in ‘their’ building, instead it is a haunt for ‘demons’ – their building may of course variously be: Mosque, temple, house of ill repute, anyone else’s church…
Often what lies at the heart of that is straightforwardly a power struggle, but underlying it, I want to suggest, is this kind of thinking about God.
Indeed I believe this lies at the heart of the problems with the way we conceive of all types of others. It can allow us to see ‘others’ as more distant from God than we are; just as it also allows us to conceive of certain places as ‘god forsaken’ or ‘god less’.
On a global/geo political scale of course, it allows us to consign our planet to environmental catastrophe by believing that God is transcendent from his/her creation. By living in this thinking we can justify not only environmental damage on an extraordinary scale, but also be ambivalent about the death and destruction of massive amounts of people.
On a local scale, and one that is very obvious in any kind of missional role, it allows us to abandon sections of society to sink or swim as church bails out and heads for a nicer place to live.
Tomorrow I will explain how this thinking has made me move into a new way of understanding God altogether. New for me that is.
In post 1 of this series, I said that I believe dualism is inherent in the way that evangelical Christians have come to conceive of ‘others’ – those of different belief systems or lifestyles to the standards deemed ‘acceptable’ by the prevailing evangelical thinking.
I want to go to say that I believe this to be a deeply flawed approach, and one which seems contrary to the way of approaching otherness modelled by Jesus.
Jesus approach to those of other faiths, other lifestyles and other social classes is profoundly open and egalitarian. The gospels include stories of an encounter with non-Jewish astrologers and times spent with tax collectors, prostitutes, beggars and centurions.
He was a friend of sinners, and was condemned as a glutton and a drunkard for the way that he ate and supped with others as though he were part of their community. Jesus does not model a dualistic way of living, nor does he model a dualistic model of ministry – his encounters with those other to his own way of life are gentle, peaceful and respectful.
Various people have critiqued dualistic thinking, Julian of Norwich noted that ‘The fullness of Joy is to behold God in everything’; and Bede Griffiths advocated an approach which drew on the teachings of both Thomas Aquinas and Sankara – in believing that in God there is “no division, or ‘composition’ of any kind. He is ‘without duality’.” (Griffiths, Return to the Centre, 1978, 24)
When considering the otherness of different faith traditions, the former chief rabbi, Jonathan Sachs expresses similar views in ‘The Dignity of difference’ where he talks of religion as being “the translation of God into a particular language and thus into the life of a group, a nation, a community of faith.” (Sachs, The Dignity of Difference, 2002, 55)
Read more tomorrow in Part 3.
I presented a paper at a conference recently, where I outed myself as a ‘recovering dualist’.
By this I meant that I find it very hard not to think about God with a classic dualist point of view – you know that idea of God as a person out there somewhere, with a Santa type ‘naughty and nice’ pair of lists? Yeah that. I find it a bit hard not to think like that.
I am by background an evangelical, and although I haven’t used that term to describe myself for some time, it has played an important part in forming the way I think about things.
So in a short series of blog posts, I want to look at the issue of dualism as a way of thinking about God.
My first point then, is that I believe underlying the evangelical understanding of God and ‘others’ is a deep seated dualism.
I suggested that this dualism leads to a colonial attitude towards the way the evangelical church approaches ‘others’. While I recognise that there are significant exceptions to this generalisation, it’s useful as a starting point.
My belief is that the majority of evangelicals operate in a kind of Platonic conception of the world as Ideal and Real. There is a separation for instance between concepts such as ‘science and faith’, ‘Christian and secular’, ‘heaven and earth’ and of course, ‘saved and unsaved’. According to this well ingrained way of thinking, all earthly things are intrinsically inferior to the unseen spiritual.
So there is, for instance, a very dualistic way of distinguishing between the evangelical/Christian ‘us’, (saved, sanctified, believers); and ‘them’ – (the unsaved, those of other faiths, the sinners). This dichotomy of salvation has traditionally been part of a sovereignty paradigm. The threat of exclusion from the company of the sanctified, puts ‘us’ in to a position of power, of declaring the orthodoxy.
This runs, however, contrary to the gospel idea of giving up power, as modeled by Jesus in the Kenotic cross ‘event’, and to what Roger Mitchell has described as ‘Kenarchy’ – the emptying out of power on the behalf of others. (Mitchell, The Fall of the Church, 2013)
A dualistic mind-set is conveniently easy: with a clear us and them divide, ‘we’ know who ‘we’ are, and where ‘we’ are. It’s also very much a warfare mentality which not only appropriates violent imagery for the way it approaches discussion of the issues, but also posits the idea of opposing sides in a battle, ranged against one another. ‘Powers of darkness’ almost equal to, and diametrically opposed to ‘powers of good’ – God and Satan juxtaposed against one another as opposing commanders, and this played out on earth between people of faith and the heathen.
It may be easy, it may even be ‘encouraging’ at times of difficulty, but I believe it is deeply problematic.
Read more tomorrow in Part 2.
Brace yourself with the grace of ease, I know this world ain’t what it seems… You’re unbelievable. (EMF)
It’s interesting to consider what is now unbelievable, and what used to be. It would at one time been perfectly reasonable for instance, to believe that the world is flat – now we no longer think that is reasonable.
Similarly it was once very common to believe in a literal six day creation story, these days that is only thought to be reasonable if one belongs to a particular strand of a religious subculture.
Without making any sort of value judgement on the relative strengths or weaknesses of either of these beliefs, what I want to suggest is that there is a power dynamic at play in what is, and what is not, believable.
In both of the examples above, the power dynamic stems from the rule of the church over society. As modernity progressed the norms of belief which had solidified the authority of the teaching of the church as sovereign were gradually eroded – leaving us in a position where now the church is (relative to its previous position) marginalised. Please note that in talking about this I’ve genuinely no interest in trying to perpetuate the idea of the persecution of the church in the West or any of that stuff, I’m simply talking about the way that belief has developed.
What I am keen to do is reflect the way that what is believable and unbelievable changes according to who has particular interests to protect, and what they want to perpetuate. With the church as sovereign then certain Biblicist notions meant that particular things were unbelievable. With the modern ‘secularlist’ upsurge many of these ideas have become unbelievable.
For instance the idea that homosexuality is ‘unnatural’, or that women by nature cannot hold positions of power, or that the poor are feckless – beliefs aimed squarely at marginalising sectors of society to solidify the power of another sector.
What this means is that by reflecting on the way the power dynamics affect ‘believability’ we can turn an eye inward and ask what things are unbelievable today.
A good example is the very apparent battle over belief concerning who is to blame for the economic problems we currently face – various groups are lobbying hard to make it impossible to believe that they are responsible.
Another example of that could be the overturn or radical overhaul of the Western capitalist system – to ponder such an eventuality is ridiculous… isn’t it? It’s unbelievable that things could change to such an extent, right?
We need to ask, who currently has particular reason to ensure that certain things are unbelievable?
And what would happen then, if we all began to believe the unbelievable?
Read post one in this series – Belief and the believed.
Just a few thoughts about issues of masculine identity in the context of spirituality and religion… please dont let is be a soliloquy, let me know your thoughts in the comments box.
There have been a few articles written recently about the disengagement and disappearance of men from places such as church sanctuaries and missionary agencies.
Two notable recent articles on this are: Steve Davies, writing about men and the mission field, and Vicky Beeching (current Christian uber blogger) on feminisation of worship music.
I’m left feeling though that in both cases, what the writers describe are symptoms of a greater malaise, and while both are interesting and important, they arent quite catching the very complex causes.
These causes are complex, and I would categorise them as essentially psycho spiritual and sociological.
For a very long time the church has been deeply patriarchal, as indeed has society. Both church and world remain in thrall to patriarchal hegemony, but arguably less so than ever before. The place of men in society generally has become more confused and unclear, as traditional manufacturing and ‘muscle based’ industry declines in a form of freefall, and women push for a more equal place in corridors of power, the man’s place as ‘provider’ and ‘governor’ is challenged – and quite rightly too.
I am an advocate of gender equality, in fact I’m probably a feminist, I dont bemoan the rise of feminine power in society, rather I celebrate it. What I think it requires however is a movement of masculinity which accepts and understands the role of men in society and church as changing or readjusting. Without this kind of rethinking, we’re in for a prolongued crisis.
Recent attempts to’turn Jesus into a cage fighter’ as some people have described the language of the likes of controversy courting Mark Driscoll and others are evidence of one attempt by some to deal with this issue. This seems like an attempt to claw back ‘traditional’ male imagery. The man as tough and rough, but still loving and fair, and importantly in charge of his world.This sort of imagery is so problematic in so many ways, that it deserves to be discarded as soon as possible. It is precisely this which has led to the denigration of women, homosexuals, people of other colour/creed and religion as ‘less than they should/could be.’
Other men choose to discourage that kind of language and imagery, and opt instead for a kind of image of Jesus which is described by others as feminine.I verge more towards this for sure, but even so, find it troubling at times, Jesus was a man, a real person, not some sort of floating presence who hovered over the earth sprinkling flowers and butterflies. More, Jesus was a man of his time, a physical man used to hard ground and conversant with hard work.
Recent songwriters have written love songs which sound as though Jesus is a boyfriend to be crooned at. I personally dislike most of these songs, not because of their love song type sentiment, but more because of their banality and the ease with which they trip from tongues and fail to engage with brains and hearts. But this kind of music is popular with many, and I dont feel it is putting people off as such, rather I think its a symptom of an overswing away from the kind of ‘masculine’ ‘battle’ imagery prefered by song writers as recently as the 1980s/1990s (Noel Richards et al).
So what is the cause of this crisis situation? In parenting there is a theory which says that for a child to be content, and to mature into a spiritually/emotionally balanced adult, their parents should enable them to have feelings of security, significance, and self worth.
I think that perhaps what we are seeing is that for too long men have had too much of the significance aspect, and as that diminishes they/we are losing our feeling of security, and of self worth. Women on the other hand have for too long been considered less significant than men – a clear fallacy which in Christian terms is not even born out biblically. Consider among so many examples the primal woman ‘Eve’ who had to be whispered to by a snake before giving into sin, her male counterpart the primal man ‘Adam’ needed only a couple of words from Eve to bite the fruit. Consider the female disciples, who without being endowed with the apostleship ‘status’ stayed loyal to the crucified Jesus when his male friends were in hiding. Looking at the history of the church women have been incredibly significant throughout, from Deborah in the Jewish scriptures, to Theresa of Calcutta in 20th century religious life.
Men too have been significant, but seemingly have too often felt the need for status and recognition, developing hierachies with abandon, I fear some of our greatest leaders have been guilty of this. Israel the people of God, kept prefering earthly kings to the leadership of God, such was their downfall. They have even said inspiring things which on reflection are none too helpful.
An example of this is the classic quote attributed to William Carey, and taken from his address to the Baptist Association in 1792:
‘Expect great things from God, attempt great things for God.’
I have long found this troubling, and was pleased to hear it addressed roundly by the Australian writer and speaker Dave Andrews who encouraged his audience to consider a more humble approach, paraphrasing the Welsh patron saint David in his encouragment to:
‘do the little things’.
I am fairly sure that one of the biggest problems with male engagement with church, mission, worship etc is this issue of change – it has removed the psycological security we’ve come to rely on, it has threatened the significance which we have based on a false idea of pre-eminence and special authority, and has dented the male self worth.
In parenting terms, if a child is having difficulties of these sorts, one would expect abberant behaviour, disengagement, and quite possibly retreat (in to his or herself). I think we can probably demonstrate that these things are evident within Christian western men.
These are not the only factors of course, there are a great range of issues at play here, but as we go through immense societal changes, which are deeply impacting the church, we need to understand the fact that while masculinity is in crisis, symptoms are going to show up.
The only solution for this that I can see is for more men to model a more wholistic form of masculinity, building on the humility, gentleness and piety which has been attributed to women over the years, whilst accepting the physicality and earthly strength which goes with being male. The essential point is that we must resist the urge to dominate and control, and learn to give of ourselves in quietness where necessary.
So what do you think?
Are Christian men just wimps who need to pull themselves together?
Are churches too feminine, and too full of love songs and men in frocks?
What are the deeper societal issues which are at the root of the disappearance of men from mission and church?
Do men just not like singing anymore?
Are there some traditions where men outnumber women? Where and why?
This should have been church at the movies #2 – but then cheeky old Joe Turner joined in with a post about men in black, which you are welcome to read here.
It’s quite good that Joe pitched in with a Conspiracy thriller type motif, as I was bit ‘horror heavy’ with my thoughts – following last week’s Zombie post, this week I’m thinking about Vampires.
I recently wrote a little something about Frankenstein, and his monster. The Frankenstein story was written on the shores of lake Geneva by Mary Shelley during a historic house party given by Lord Byron. The Frankenstein story is the most famous product of that party, but it isnt the only important literary product.
The Vampyre, by John William Polidori was first published in 1819. Like Frankenstein though, it too was a product of the creative splurge that followed a challenge to write a ghost story during a long dark Swiss weekend.
Polidori’s tale is widely credited as being the first romantic Vampire story, the great grandfather if you like of the current crop of Vampire fiction which has so failed to capture my imagination. Perhaps if I was a teenage girl I would find it more interesting. But I’m not.
More importantly than Twilight though, Polidori’s Vampyre is also the ancestor of the Dracula story, which was written by Bram Stoker later the same century. Notably Polidori’s main charachter, clearly based on the figure of Lord Byron, was the archetypal aristocratic Vampire, cool, refined, vicious, deadly -undead.
This kind of uber cool motif has come to define the common conception of the vampire, unlike the mindless zombie, a part of the hoard and incapable of its own individual decisions, the Vampire is an individual. He or she is a deadly foe – someone to be reckoned with. Witty perhaps, clever certainly, well turned out, sexy, cool…
But the vampire and the zombie share one notable similarity – the inescapable thirst for blood. The desire to consume blood is all powerful, and drives otherwise decent vampires (e.g. David Boreanaz’s Angel from Buffy the Vampire slayer) to desperate measures. The vampire is the archetypal addict, hooked on blood, and willing to go to any lengths to procure it. More than that, they are vicious heartless (or rather soulless) killers, who get some perverse pleasure from infliciting pain and suffering.
Rather than investigate the questions about vampirism that reflect on our society as a whole, which is worthy of a book or two, I want to make a simple point about church.
While we may think we are free of zombies in church, are we sure about the vampires?
Vampires have certain notable characteristics:
1) They appear different in the day time than in the night.
2) They present as cool, refined, clever and attractive.
3) Their consumption is as driven as the zombie’s, but appears to be the product of a refined mind, rather than part of a mindless gang.
The Vampire is the ultimate individual, they dont want to be part of a gang, they may want others to follow them, (hence the nosferatu aspect, the way they infect their prey with the need to consume blood) but they arent interested in being part of the pack.
So while zombie consumers will just go along with the crowd, the vampire consumer will stand out, cool, isolated, set apart – perhaps as part of an elite set. But they remain, at heart, a consumer – not a producer.
Vampires, like zombies are to be found in our church meetings, in our very midst. And you or I, we are as likely to be bitten as anyone – we can easily fall prey to the vampire’s bite – by succumbing to the idea of cool.
As soon as we start to set ourselves apart, conceive of ourselves as an elite level of individual, refuse or fail to recognise the humility of our humanity, we take steps towards vampirism.
Fortunately it’s not always necessarily to stake the heart of a vampire, sometimes these characters can be rehabilitated. That’s good news for us, given the fact that we’re as likely to have been infected as anyone – askyourself a few questions:
How do you stand up to being washed in holy water? Not talking about literal water, but metaphorical, have you left behind the repentance of baptism which is to abandon the life material and seek the life spiritual?
How do you stand up to the sunshine? Again – a metaphor: can you stand up to the scrutiny of daylight, does your lifestyle bear the characteristics of authenticity?
Have you really put your self to death? This one is both literal and metaphorical, the self in terms of the ego. Does your ‘self’ raise out of it’s coffin and roam the streets at night? Or is it really dead?
One of the wonderful things about our society is that it does a good line in metaphor. Although I dont personally like horror movies as a genre, I do appreciate some of the wonderful totemic images that horror fiction and films have produced.
Horror’s early appropriation of the Frankenstein story for instance is a good one – Frankenstein’s creation of the monster as a metaphor for technological advancement works very well. Whenever there is a scare about GM crops for instance, they are instantly dubbed ‘Frankenstein Foods’ – alliteration aside its a perfect shorthand image.
But the image I want to consider today is not Frankenstein or his creature, but rather that ever present symbol of the dreaded undead – Zombies.
I am not sure if I witnessed it myself, or just remember hearing about it, but I have a distant memory of a ‘visiting preacher’ turning up to lead an evening service at the Baptist church I went to as a kid, and declaring: ‘It’s a good thing that Jesus can raise the dead, because there are a lot of dead people in here tonight!’
On reflection that was probably unfair, I very much doubt there were a lot of people at the meeting.
However, after having observed a number of congregations, in all kinds of different settings over 30+ years of church attendance I can kind of identify with the idea of having seen the undead in church.
Lets head back to the question of metaphor – what do zombies represent? Well the usual cultural reference point in this case is George Romero’s 1978 Classic ‘Dawn of the Dead’. It is not to be overlooked that Romero chose to set his Zombie movie primarily in a shopping mall. The mall, invented in the 1960s and by the late 1970s already a symbol of humanity’s slavery or liberation (you choose) by consumerism. Yes that’s right, consumerism, whichever way you look at it, whether it empowers the individual or enslaves society, that is the setting for Zombies.
Zombies are wonderful representatives of the consumer. They stagger through the mall, mindless and drooling and desperate to gorge themselves on the flesh of the living. Rather like the queues which form outside new year sales, where people line the streets desperate to get in and get the bargain (never mind the blood shed and evnironmental devastation in the making of the product) there have even been a number of instances where people have been injured in the crush of such shopping frenzies.
So, back to the pews. Are there zombies in church? Well for most of us there’s comfort in knowing there arent all that many people in church anyway, so its easy to spot a zombie hoard – but if were to extend the metaphor, have we created a church which is an attractive mall for drooling consumers?
One of the problems with trying to create ‘seeker friendly’ services and ‘church experiences’ is that we can, conciously or unconciously, adopt the consumer model. How can we entice the passing trade? What can we do that’s eye catching and entertaining? How can we increase brand awareness? What are the best deals and offers we can promote? These are variously shown to be be effective or ineffective at enticing people through the doors, and in some cases the passing buyer may take up the special offer and choose to buy into the brand. But is that a healthy way of creating new life?
Are we, instead of asking people to be ‘born again’, sometimes encouraging them to be undead? Many churches are more concerned with how many people are in church on sunday, how many bums are on seats, than how well the core of their fellowship are developing as disciples.
This seems at odds with the early church. In many cases these were very small groups, flying under the radar to keep themselves from being persecuted or killed, using secret symbols and hiding out underground, with members so full of life and so dedicated to their God that they were willing to risk the horrific fate they were assured of if caught. Nobody got a special offer, there was no seasonal promotion, no money back guarantee. As a result the Zombies, who are/were naturally put off by the idea off by the prospect of having their consumer power reduced to the point of extinction tended to steer clear.
Zombies, I fear, dont tend to make productive members of church, they arent too interested in serving the community, in developing spirituality, or in recognising Jesus in those around them. They also dont tend to be too keen on going through suffering as a path of spiritual growth. Your average Zombie prefers a quick fix, and prefers to gorge rather than fast.
They may give money into the collection, particularly if they are encouraged to by talk of greater blessing or more consumer experiences. They are likely to turn up regularly, and even to be actively involved in large meetings.
However, Zombies on the whole, are not to be trusted or encouraged. I reccomend you consider carefully whether you are encouraging the undead in your fellowship. The good news is that I reckon God loves Zombies too – and a Zombie needn’t stay undead, but they will need some encouragement to make the transition, traditionally a stake through the heart or a beheading ought to do it. Alternatively you could try making your church less of a consumer experience, and more of an expression of mission – then see if the zombies will leave or change of their own accord.
It was funny recently to hear about the FOI request Leicester city council received about their readiness in the case of a Zombie attack – but perhaps its something church needs to take seriously, a bunch of Zombies turning up can really make life difficult, if you dont believe me, watch Dawn of the Dead.
Next time in ‘Church at the movies’: Vampirus Nosferatu…