Sunday, October 28, 2012

Immanuel Lutheran Church


One of my favorite websites is 27bslash6.com. It is a hysterical and well-written website about the banality of little things -- little things that bug us, little things that nip at our heels, little things that make up the bulk of our lives. In one fictional exchange between two coworkers, one of them is punished for questioning a corporate policy. He replied with the following parable:
"I once read about five monkeys that were placed in a room with a banana at the top of a set of stairs. As one monkey attempted to climb the stairs, all of the monkeys were sprayed with jets of cold water. A second monkey made an attempt and again the monkeys were sprayed. No more monkeys attempted to climb the stairs. One of the monkeys was then removed from the room and replaced with a new monkey. New monkey saw the banana and started to climb the stairs but to its surprise, it was attacked by the other monkeys. Another of the original monkeys was replaced and the newcomer was also attacked when he attempted to climb the stairs. The previous newcomer took part in the punishment with enthusiasm. Replacing a third original monkey with a new one, it headed for the stairs and was attacked as well. Half of the monkeys that attacked him had no idea why. After replacing the fourth and fifth original monkeys, none had ever been sprayed with cold water but all stayed the f*ck away from the stairs. Being here longer than me doesn't automatically make your adherence to a rule, or the rule itself, right. It makes you the fifth replacement monkey. The one with the weird red arse and the first to point and screech when anyone approaches the stairs. I would be the sixth monkey, at home in bed trying to come up with a viable excuse not to spend another fruitless day locked in a room with five neurotic monkeys."
Today is a big day in the protestant calendar: Reformation Sunday. This is the Sunday when people commemorate Martin Luther nailing 95 theses to the doors of a Catholic Church, or -- in modern terms -- this is the Sunday when people remember Martin Luther tweeting 95 DMs to @Pope2YouVatican. This is the Sunday when one lone nut dared to question the largest religion in the course of human history. Luther questioned authority, and for that alone I can relate to the guy. Luther's actions not only led to the foundation of new forms of Christianity, but it ultimately led to certain reforms within the reluctant-to-change Catholic Church itself.

In my previous review, I stated rather emphatically that I was not a fan of modern forms of worship, but I'd like it known I am not against change. What I am against is change for the sake of change. I see a modern service and in my mind I picture the organizers thinking to themselves, "We can do this differently," but I don't envision them questioning why things were done the way they were, or why different equates to better. But the other end of the spectrum are those churches that are so set in their ways that Martin Luther could walk into them today and feel at home. Tradition matters. But a tradition devoid of meaning or intent is just as distasteful as a change made without purpose or forethought. In my travels, I have encountered churches with congregations merely going through the motions -- congregations so locked into doing things a certain way that they are done without thought. In short, churches do things, and they never know why, and they never question it.

Immanuel Lutheran Church in Riverside has existed for over 100 years. My family is actually a part of that history. Both of my parents worked there at various points in their respective lives. Two close family friends whom I referred to as my aunt and uncle were longtime members. As a child, I worshiped there on a few occasions, mostly during Christmases spent with my aforementioned aunt and uncle. This is a church I once knew. I called myself Lutheran for most of my life; now I call myself Christian. Over the centuries, there have been divisions and splits within the Lutheran church itself. Presently there are two main branches of the Lutheran Church: LCMS and ELCA. Immanuel is an LCMS church. Immanuel is one of those churches that Luther would recognize.

Much has changed at Immanuel, but much hasn't. This Sunday was set aside to appreciate and thank those who have served as ministers and deacons, and that was when I learned the senior ranking member of the ministerial team had only been there 10 years. The head pastor was in his fourth year of service to the church. As the opening processional took place, 10 people in robes and sashes made their way down the aisle, some holding candles, one holding a cross, but -- oddly enough -- nobody holding a Bible. Odder still, instead of a Bible, the book being raised up for all to see was the Lutheran Service Book, a.k.a. the hymnal. This was peculiar to me for many reasons, and by peculiar I mean I stood there thinking, "What the f*ck!" Considering we didn't even follow the order of worship found within the hymnal, it seemed beyond odd that we ought to revere it in a way I normally reserve for the actual Bible (and a few books by the late Douglas Adams). But nobody seemed to question it; everyone droned through their 1,500th singing of "A Mighty Fortress."

As the droning of "A Mighty Fortress" drew to a close, the droning of three pages of calls-and-responses began murmuring through the sanctuary. Sigh... talk about phoning it in. Last Sunday I was in a church where over 1,000 people phoned it in, many holding their actual phones as they did so. Now, in an entirely different style of church, apx. 100 people stood or sat, going through the motions, none of them asking why. On this of all days, what the Lutheran Church needs is another Martin Luther to awaken their spirits and embolden their voices. The Bible tells us to "make a joyful noise," but I couldn't hear any joy at Immanuel. Mostly, what I heard was a tired congregation, and while I can in many ways relate to that, the function of the ministers being honored is to breathe life (and faith) into the pews.

I liked that the pastor preached from the pulpit; I liked that there was a pulpit. I was excited to see no trace of projectors for PowerPoint slides upon my entry to the church, only to be saddened to see a giant screen swing out and drop down from out of nowhere so a PowerPoint could go on during the sermon. The candles and vestments were nice to see, but I didn't -- for lack of a better phrase -- feel it.

In his sermon, the pastor drew a parallel between a story in Matthew 13 and Confederate currency at the time of the Civil War. Looking at the average age of congregants, I guess the pastor assumed a Civil War analogy would be something they could relate to? But I did appreciate that the (by comparison) young pastor emphasized the need for continued reformation within the church. "Reformation is meant to go on," he said, adding that we should all continuously "rediscover, reevaluate, and recommit" to God and faith and all that implies. In an LCMS church, such talk is practically blasphemous -- I half expected to see a gang of monkeys try to drag him down the stairs.

Amen.
______________________________________________________

Sunday Scorecard:

What is the contact info for the church?

Immanuel Lutheran Church
5545 Allesandro Blvd.
Riverside, CA 92506
951/682-7613
http://www.immanuelriverside.com/

What was the denomination?

LCMS Lutheran

What Bible verses were referenced?

Matthew 13:44-46, 51-52

What are the demographics of the congregation?

Mostly seniors, a few families

Was the atmosphere formal or casual?

Formal church environment

What was the music like?

Organ, choir, lacking in oomf

How was the use of PowerPoint?

Sneaky... screen slides out and unfolds as the sermon begins

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Crossroads Christian Church


I am not a "megachurch" guy. When it comes to churches and worship services, I want things as traditional and contemplative as I can get, and the bigger the church, the less tradition and less contemplation I seem to get. I not only like ritual and formality in worship, but understand its ability to provide focus and clarity. That said, an ever-growing segment of the populace eschews such things in favor of large houses of worship that function as an extension of their family room. The idea behind such informality seems to be that God ought to be more attainable to the common man.

I know several people who have called (or continue to call) Crossroads their home church. I've attended weddings there. I've listened to the pastor's sermons. While I believe there are good people at Crossroads, I cannot in good faith (no pun intended) endorse their approach to worship. So I am clear, some people can and do benefit from the style and approach put into effect by those in charge there, and if they can get some good out of it, more power to them. However, I found the environment to be impersonal, dark, and at times condescending.

Worship began at 11am, and in a megachurch that means a Christian rock band pounds out some power ballads in praise of the Lord. As in many megachurches, people stand with their outstretched hands waving during the song. However, at Crossroads, most only outstretch and wave one hand, as the other is holding a cup of coffee. Also noteworthy are the volumes of people arriving more than 30 minutes after the start time, because punctuality goes hand-in-hand with formality, and the lack of one often denotes the lack of the other.

Having reviewed praise bands at length elsewhere, I've no need to recount my feelings about them, but for those who -- like me -- are not fans of modern music in worship service, I've invented a (grown up) game you can play. Ever play the "Fortune Cookie Game"? It is simple enough: As you read your fortune out loud, end it with the words, "... in bed." I humbly suggest doing this for any lyric sung by any praise band. The results will be darkly comedic.

"I'm on my knees before you... in bed"
"I am humbled by your greatness... in bed"
"I live to serve you... in bed"
"You are the king... in bed"

My point is not to be blasphemous. It is to point out the fundamental flaw inherent in trying to twist the modern to fit where it doesn't belong. It isn't that I dislike incorporating God into modern music (Mumford and Sons contains some powerfully spiritual aspects to their music); my beef is incorporating modern music into what I feel should be a callback to a different era, or -- if not a different era -- a different headspace. The music in worship ought to differ from the music in my iPod. In church, I do not want to rock out to the Lord, and I don't want Him reduced to a cheesy pop refrain.

Following the praise band, it was time for Communion, or "bread and juice" as the pastor referred to it. I'm not going to venture into the whole transubstantiation vs. consubstantiation debate, but can we all agree to take Holy Communion more seriously than casually referring to it as "bread and juice"? This is a tradition dating back two millennia where we recall Jesus in His last supper with his closest friends and disciples, during which He revealed that He was to give His body and blood as a sacrifice for the benefit of all of humanity. In Christian circles, this is kind of a big deal, and not something to be derided by someone purporting to be an ordained minister. Obviously, atheists and non-believers won't recognize the significance of Christians reenacting and commemorating that momentous event, but for a pastor to lessen its import disturbed me.

A few words on modern baptism and its life-saving attributes: A huge point of disagreement between me and most megachurches is that I was born once, and once was enough (some might even say it was once too many). Jesus Christ has always been in my life, as He has been in the lives of everyone who believes and doesn't believe in Him. There are people who celebrate the day they were "saved," and if you are one of those people, God bless you. However, the day you, me, and the whole of creation were saved was the day Jesus died for our sins, and you dunking your head in a jacuzzi pales in comparison (if what I wrote offends you, see the previous paragraph where a pastor referred to the ritual honoring the sacrifice of Jesus as "bread and juice" -- when the rituals are taken seriously, I respect it, but when they are accompanied by hoots, hollers, applause, and a power ballad, I struggle with that). I was baptized as a child, confirmed as a teen, and continue to reinforce and profess my faith every time I pray to God. But regardless of any of those actions, and regardless of any other conscious choices I make, Jesus saved me long before I was born, then I was born, and consequently I have no need to be born again.

Now comes the time to discuss the most important aspect of a worship service: The sermon. Regardless of whether your house of worship is traditional or contemporary, odds are somebody is going to stand in front of the congregation and attempt to offer insight into the words found in the Bible, most likely tying it into our everyday lives (although I'm aware of a growing number of churches absent this feature entirely). Last week a friend referred me to the sermon delivered at Crossroads which had been posted online, and I listened to it before attending today. Having heard two sermons, I think I can draw a few conclusions. In neither instance did the pastor of Crossroads take a single story or passage from the Bible, share it with the congregation, then dive into its meaning and subtext. Instead, he treated the Bible as a ransom note, chopping a few words here and a sentence there to piece together the points he wanted to make. I'm uncomfortable with the precedent this sets. I don't know about others, but I live in a world where context is key. Yanking slivers of passages to weave together an idea, ignoring -- or at least not bothering to explain -- how it fits into the rest of the narrative presents a myopic, disjointed, and sometimes childishly naive view of the original source material.

For instance, in today's sermon the pastor encouraged us to do three things:

1) Have faith
2) Take risks
3) Speak about faith

Off the top of my head, I could think of five Biblical stories wonderfully illustrating those three central ideas. But instead the pastor referenced the following (I'm not exaggerating):

Exodus 33:11
Exodus 17:11-13
Joshua 1:6-9
2 Timothy 1:7
Psalm 1:1-3
Joshua 3:5
Joshua 3:13
Joshua 3:15
Joshua 6:2
Genesis 15:16
Joshua 7:10-12
Numbers 32:23
Joshua 24:14-15
Luke 6:45
Ephesians 5:3-5

As you can see, he spent some time on Joshua, but he jumped back and forth through the Bible like a severely ADHD kid off his/her meds, and that is not a slight against people with such a condition. I've taught students with attention deficit issues; their differently abled brains can link a series of unrelated things in such a way that it makes perfect sense to them, but for the rest of us there is no concrete connection. Even granting the premise that the above verses contain a coherent thread; it still doesn't justify ripping words out of context, ignoring the bigger picture in favor of a smaller point.

A word of warning for the pastor: Speaking in extreme generalities can be unwise. The topic of tithing came up in the sermon (the sermon about faith, risks, and speaking about faith -- as I said, the sermon was all over the place), and the pastor stated (paraphrasing, though I think I'm fairly close to his exact words), "People who tithe always have more. It just always happens." This was meant to convince people to give, even passively shaming those who do not. I wanted to ask the pastor to point to me in the Bible where this tithing guarantee exists -- I wanted to, but at the end of worship he announced he could not stay because he had other things to do. I don't begrudge the man having to speak about the subject of tithes (all pastors inevitably must), but at least be real about it. And while I'm covering tithing, in Biblical times, a farmer might not have had money, so he'd give some of his crop to the church. But in modern times, I've yet to find a minister from any denomination suggest serving the church community could be done in lieu of financial tithing. In fact, in previous churches I've been a member of, I've offered my services only to be flatly rejected. In a modern America when churches are facing negative press for being money-grubbing tax-dodges, I'd think the bartering concept appeals to the better angels of our collective nature, but I guess I'm just talking crazy talk.

Speaking of crazy talk, part of today's sermon included a story of a woman the pastor knew who received a modern-day vision. While he was at it, why didn't he include a story of Santa Claus riding a unicorn? I'm not saying the woman in question didn't have a vision, but I'm saying it is odd that a pastor would feel inclined to include such an off-putting concept into a sermon. I won't speak in sweeping generalities, but I'd venture to say many people don't experience visions (unless they are alcohol or drug induced), and a modern story in a sermon is supposed to make the Biblical material into something more relatable and inclusive, not less.

Last item I wanted to cover was something the pastor said at the conclusion of his sermon. As he wrapped up imparting the import of courageously speaking about one's faith, he asked members of the congregation to have the courage to walk down the aisles to where he was standing and share their faith with him. And this alone signifies why I'm not a megachurch guy. In every church I've ever been a member, the least courageous action I could have taken would have been to approach my pastor. This concept of it requiring bravery is entirely foreign to me. The only brave aspect I could see of approaching the pastor at Crossroads is congregants might trip because the aisles are so dimly lit. I'm accustomed to an environment where the pastor stands in the back of the church after each worship service for some gladhanding and face time with every member of the congregation. At Crossroads, the pastor announced he'd have to duck out immediately after worship because he'd scheduled something else. I suppose it is possible the pastor had to officiate a funeral or visit a sick person in a hospital, but -- barring such eventualities -- what sort of pastor schedules something else on a Sunday?

As negative as all this sounds, these all might be positives to some people. Many people like not having to dress up for church, to bring their beverage of choice, to rock out to jamming tunes, to have a sermon geared towards shorter attention spans, to feel "saved" through their own actions, to be told that good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people, to experience no connection to the people seated around them, to possess no attachment to the pastor, and to be told to just fork over the dough so great things can happen. Well, I have faith, and I'm taking a risk by voicing my concern that none of the above qualifies as my ideal Sunday worship service. But thousands of members of Crossroads undoubtedly disagree with me. God bless them all.

Amen.
______________________________________________________

Sunday Scorecard:

What is the contact info for the church?

Crossroads Christian Church
2331 Kellogg Avenue
Corona, CA 92881
951/737-4664
http://www.crossroadschurch.com

What was the denomination?

Non denominational

What Bible verses were referenced?

See the extensive list above

What are the demographics of the congregation?

A good mix of ages, mostly young, less diverse ethnically

Was the atmosphere formal or casual?

A Starbucks is more formal... no alter, no candles, no vestments, casual dress by all involved, pastor wore blue jeans and plaid shirt, and he walked on-stage with a coffee cup near the end of the service

What was the music like?

Praise band, power ballad, 'nuf said

How was the use of PowerPoint?

Not exactly PowerPoint, but a big screen was above the stage (the cross was relegated to the far side) and the pastor was projected onto the big screen.

Welcome to God in the Inland Empire


Last year I set myself the task of seeking a house of worship in the heart of Hollywood. As part of the process, I wrote and reviewed each church I attended, just as a movie critic might analyze a film. I now find myself in the Inland Empire, and I am again in need of a new home base for Sunday services.

I am admittedly particular about what I feel makes a church worth attending. Those of you looking for the modern approach to any aspect of faith, from new versions of the Bible to modern rock in a sanctuary, you'd probably be better served not reading what I write. I want a church that contains a diverse membership in terms of age and ethnicity. I want a pastor who will not talk down to me. I want to feel a sense of community, tradition, faith, and reverence. Above all else, I want to feel I am in God's house.

I am again embarking on a written exploration of my own faith, which a series of recent events has called me to reassess. I'll document not just each church I visit, but my own personal reaction to the sights and sounds. It is never my intention to offend others with my views, nor is it my intention to impose my views on others. I have in my head an ideal -- it is most likely not yours. That's alright; we don't have to agree. I'm sharing my thoughts to generate a more substantive discussion on faith-based issues than I see elsewhere. I welcome all respectful feedback (leave your hate speech elsewhere).