Entry #15

This series was originally published on my socials in 2021. My beliefs and opinions have changed in some ways since then, but these words are still meaningful and relevant to who I am and what I believe today.

Is our modern format of "church" serving us well, if attendance continues to plummet?

Is it effective, if (statistically) the majority of members are biblically illiterate?

Is it biblical, if we see that the early church functioned mostly in small groups that met in homes and ate together?

Is it reaching those outside its walls, if 70-90% of the rest of the world view Christians as judgmental, anti-homosexual, hypocritical, and hyper-political?

Is it sustainable, if church leaders are continually reaching burn out or walking away from ministry altogether?

Is it Christ-like, if we continue to serve those inside our walls far more than those outside of it? If we build building after building to bring people in but neglect the vision to be a people who regularly "go out" as a congregation?

Is it ethical, if our pastors' salaries are funded by a tithing membership (a discipline not mentioned in the New Testament) —does that mean our pastors are being paid to preach only what those with the biggest pockets want to hear and agree with? If they can pull their tithe if they don't like it, is that accountability or a conflict of interest?

I think about the increased polarization these past few years, how the divide between conservative and liberal seems to have become a chasm, and wonder...

What if instead of spending our Sunday mornings in pews with people who look and act and talk like us, what if, as a church body, we served and loved and invested in people different than us? Not just once or twice a year, but regularly? Not just one ministry, but all of us?

Could human connection heal the disconnect?

If we, as an entire church body, regularly and intentionally met the physical and emotional needs of those who looked and lived differently would our hearts be softened towards each other?

If we saw the tears in their grieving eyes and the pain in their clenched fists, would we still respond with so little empathy when asked for mercy?

If we had real, deep relationships with those we so often condemn, if we tried to hear and understand them face to face, would there be such division?

Would we realize we are all human and all hurting and all deserving of Christ's love?

I think about children's ministries that wholeheartedly try to serve those outside the church, only to lose volunteers when kids show up who need more love and supervision because life hasn't always been kind or stable. If our current structure can't handle the hard ones, is that a red flag?

I think about how many parents feel overwhelmed and ill-equipped to invest in their kids' spiritual growth, so they hand it over to the church, effectively saying, "You do it. You know what you're doing... I don't."

And then, the What Ifs start piling up ..

What if the church had never built up walls?

What if we’d never stacked bricks on top of bricks like a fortress to protect those on the inside from those on the outside?

What if church had always remained just a group of misfits? Believers of the craziest, most mystifying story? Outcasts who’d been so affected by one man’s unconditional love for them they were willing to die to let everyone else know about it?

What if preaching wasn't the spiritual gift placed on a pedestal? What if our worship services and hierarchies and salaries reflected a belief that it's not the most important one?

What if discipleship was the main focus of church instead of the afterthought? If services were less passive, led by a few, and more collaborative, interactive amongst the entire body?

What if our motivation was less about being filled up each week and more about being poured out?

Hear me: I don't blame or accuse those in church leadership one iota. I think very few are power hungry or trying to protect an oppressive system. Do those exist? Sure. But that's not the vast majority.

I think we've all just always done what we've always done.

We all keep looking at the decline in membership, trying to fix the problem within a framework we've inherited.

But maybe the framework needs to be deconstructed (for lack of better term, please DON'T FREAK OUT) and rebuilt.

Maybe it's time to open ourselves up to the possibility that the salt has lost its saltiness. What if God is telling us to throw it out? Start over?

We don't need a relevant church or a cool church.

We need a Salty Church. A church full of the vibrant flavor or Jesus Christ.