It is fashionable today, among young and passionate Christians, to say that the church -- as an institution, as a ministry, as a place -- is doomed. There is a big difference within this camp between the Church and church. It is the latter, the uncapitalized locale in all its pitiful expiration, that represents the true problem for the members of this creed. The church has come to represent the last vestige of a dying day. The way we do church today, the logic goes, has nothing to say to the people of this world. The modern church, in short, has lost its value, and worse still, it has lost its use to both the saved and the wanting.
I have not subscribed to this reasoning, and at best, I find it suspect. The popularity of catchphrases like “we won't have 'church' in twenty years” or “God is not in a building” among young intellectuals in the Church only serves to muddle a very important debate. I believe it is vital to analyze what the church means in modern culture, what it has meant, and what it could mean in the future. Obviously, this is not the space to do something of that considerable length. What I will discuss here, though, are three relatively brief reasons why I do not believe the church is going anywhere any time soon. The church will remain a factor in Christianity precisely because it will retain its usefulness. In spite of the naysayers, what made the church important in the first place will ensure its constancy in the world of tomorrow, in a time of post-post-modernism or whatever novel philosophy to which the world might subscribe.
Reason #1: The church is global.
There is no use denying every criticism of the church as hopelessly illogical. Only an optimist of the delusional type would look at churches today and see a field of beautiful flowers lifting up their Creator. I still laugh hysterically (even as I cry inside) when I watch Sunday night BET. “Call and receive my Holy Prayer Handkerchief, and all your dreams will come true.” “Send my ministry a financial contribution, and God will open the storehouses of His blessing.” I have heard this kind of language on TV and witnessed it myself in churches here in San Antonio. As huge buildings are erected to the self-importance and perceived necessity of local ministries, it is difficult to not get angry and wonder where we're headed. But these aren't points I need to stress. John Piper has said the same (and more) much better than I ever could:
But deep within this clip is something you might have missed. It is certainly true that America is manufacturing a dangerous idea of church, a delusional approach to ministry that focuses on people and not the kingdom. But this is America. This is not the entire world. The funny thing about the people who blame American ministries for focusing only on themselves is that they commit the same sin. The idea that we are witnessing the end of the church is an American response to an American problem.
Allow me to elaborate. The young and the passionate who amplify the creed of a “no-church Church” have also come out of America. The Church they see has evolved past the need for an institution that is prone to focusing on the vanity of its human leaders and audience. These same thinkers cry out -- and rightfully so -- for a renewed focus on the world outside of America, but at the same time, they present a solution to church that ignores the world around them. John Piper hits the nail on the head when he says that America is exporting an idea of Christianity that focuses on goods and on people instead of the Good and the Kingdom. But what good would it for Americans to export a very different idea, that the church is unnecessary and a thing of the past. What past would we be speaking of? Our past. But what about their past?
If we are to subscribe to the idea that the church is dead, we will have localized the Church. We will have committed the same sin as the vain preachers, only in a different way, toward the other end of the spectrum. Like the foolish leaders who erect “Landmarks for Jesus,” we will have created an approach to Christianity that is only focused on our local problems. We will have prescribed an American solution to a global church. For millions of Christians outside of America, who number well above the swelling masses of the me-first West, the church is the future.
In places like India and Africa and Asia, the saved have not become disillusioned, as we have, from the onslaught of postmodernism. There is joy to be taken in this fact. There is a world outside of the gates of the West whose people long for something only the church can offer. And not the church of HD cameras. Not the church of three-piece suits. Not the church that takes offerings for the pastor's private jet (which I actually attended at one point in time). When these things become the focus of a church, we are right to criticize. But the church -- as an institution, as a ministry, as a place -- still has something to offer the vast majority of the world.
Perhaps we have become too spoiled in our history. And perhaps the church will make changes. It should. But we cannot localize the Church because of our history. Regardless of which way we turn, we will be exporting an idea of church to the rest of the world. The utility of this idea -- as opposed to “host home” or “coffee shop meet-up” -- is priceless for places of poverty and war and desolation.
A correct response to this argument would be that in places like Africa, people only have the church because they need it. People will walk miles to a church because they don't have a choice. But how advanced do we really think a poverty-stricken community would be if they had no more meetings in an established gathering? What would a village be like if everyone had a Bible and didn't have to take the long walk to a church? Surely, this would solve all of the community's problems! I mean, I can't ever think of a time where I was involved in a Bible study where someone said something horribly misinformed or heretical! I can't ever recall a time where meeting with fellow Christians who thought exactly like me and lived in exactly the same area left me wanting interaction with people outside of the “circle!”
Sarcasm is often difficult to put into type, but hopefully you get my point. (I am laying it on pretty thick.) The church continues to represent the opportunity for people to come together from different areas, and this is true in the Third World and in America. Can churches become stale? Can they get to a point where all they do is scratch their own backs and pick their own pockets? Sure. I'd recommend a few places here in town, but I'm sure you already have some in mind. All of these places -- I find it difficult to call them “churches” proper -- should change or dissolve. But this does not end the discussion for all churches. I hate to use the trite adage that one bad apple does not spoil the bunch, but it bears mentioning in this discussion. To say something like “the church as we know it won't exist in twenty years” brings up useful questions. How do you “know it?” What church? Whose church? How we truthfully answer questions like these is unlikely to lead us to sound the clarion call for a future without church. It is because the church is global -- and not simply American -- that it will remain a fixture of Christianity.
