The Buzz

Today’s buzz-word is “emergence.” It’s all the rave. In the same way that “seeker sensitive” and “contemporary” were the catch phrases du jour in the 90’s, the “emerging church” and all things “emerging” have become the talk of the town. There are quite a few books on my shelf that sport the term somewhere on their cover. Emerging this, emerging that. I half-envision the Fad King from Wag the Dog off with some Hollywood producer somewhere coming up with catchy slogans, jingles, and t-shirt ideas that could be pandered to the eager masses of hip, young, twenty-something’s who have described themselves as the “emerging church.”

I am not sure to do with all the hype. I like most of what I hear in the emerging church conversation, but I have experienced something of an aversion to the subtle messiah complex that seems to be dancing behind the scenes. It is almost like some emergents (this is a noun coined to describe those who consider themselves part of that which is emerging) see themselves as able to deliver orthodox theology from the grasps of the modern, post-enlightenment oppressors who have held it hostage for the last three hundred years.

That being said, I stumbled across a great web site called opensourcetheology.net. What they are attempting does resonate with me, and I will probably be more on board once I have quelled my initial misgivings about the emerging church conversation.

Please don’t label me as a stick-in-the-mud. My thirty-something mind just needs some time to figure out which end is up.

Once more into the abyss

It is not news to any of you who know me or read this blog that I tend to wrestle with many of the pillars of Christian Orthodoxy, or more accurately, many of the hang-ups of North American Evangelicalism. I tend to take nothing for granted, enjoy questioning the establishment, and love to disassemble theological systems. It is a kind of cathartic vandalism for me.

A while back I wrote about some of my concerns with the doctrine of hell, or at least how the doctrine has been formulated and applied in the context of North American Evangelicalism. If you look at it in terms of how much we talk about hell and how much we have taken our Modern incarnation of the concept and made it an integral part of our gospel message, you would have to conclude that it is one of our favorite doctrines. We simply love the idea of hell.

When I was growing up most of my Christian experience was in a fairly conservative, traditional, and theologically even-keeled church. We believed in hell, no doubt about it. We had a somewhat friendly relationship with a like minded church in town who was into hell even more than we were. They had this big mansion on their church property, an old house that would fit the part in just about every haunted house story I had ever heard. Every Halloween they would transform this mansion into a kind of Christianized haunted house.

The theme was usually the apocalyptic judgment and eternal punishment of sinners, those who didn’t love Jesus like we did. It was scary stuff. Rooms would be dedicated to portraying the hellish reality of abortion clinics, drug users, porn watchers, rapists, and alcoholics and how they were all bound for the undying flames of hell. The end result was a brutal assault on the psyche of every teenager who walked through the halls of that house every Halloween, an all out barrage of hellfire and brimstone that motivated even the most pagan of us to turn away from our evil ways and embrace the Jesus who promised not to torture us as long as we loved him enough.

It seems a bizarre tactic when you consider the message and mission of Jesus Christ. “Go out and make disciples,” he said, “ teach them to live the way I taught you to live.” The part about scaring the bejebus outta people must be a text variant that was lost in transmission.

“Money, it’s a hit...

Don’t give me that do goody good bullshit.” So says Pink Floyd in their classic sarcasm-laden critique of materialism (the song appears on their “Dark Side of the Moon” album, which is coincidentally the fourth highest selling album in history…nice bit-o-irony there).

Funny thing is, this lyric is pretty much the mantra of my life. I spend most of MY money on MYself while simultaneously not giving a damn about the poor and oppressed that are living in squalor all over God’s green earth (hey, wait a minute, it is HIS earth, why doesn’t HE do something about it…oops he did, he created the Church and told her to get off her ass and care for the poor…my bad).

I was just thinking of all the money I made last year, and how much of it was spent on me and my family. We bought a car, rent a nice house, bought a new TV, go out to eat A LOT, new clothes, toys, toys, toys. I claim to be a follower of Jesus, but my checkbook says I am a follower of Scott. I spent almost 90% of my money on me last year. This year will probably be the same.

Super-size me, Jesus, make me bigger.

For me, one of the more devilish aspects of small church ministry is how often my lack of resources causes me to covet the resources of other churches. It is very difficult for me to read a book by a mega-church pastor, I usually only make it about two-thirds through the prologue before I start coveting that pastor's ministry.

It is almost impossible for me to watch a Rob Bell video the whole way through without coveting. Right about the time I hear the familiar "Noooo-ma" sound blurb at the beginning I start feeling a tightening in my gut, that all-too-familiar rumbling of steeple envy that I experience when I look at what Rob has (big church, national speaking ministry, hair) and wish it belonged to me instead. After all, I did win the preaching award in seminary.

This sinful thought cycle tends to get more intense whenever the church where I work encounters a financial crunch which, as luck would have it (or as God would have it, depending on your theological bias), is happening as I type. We are out of money. If we don't come up enough money this week, something won't be paid. I hope that this "something" won't be my pay check. That would not be good.

So I find myself constantly waging war against my steeple envy, telling myself over and over again that I am not in it to grow a mega church. However, if I was honest, I would have to admit that if the pharmaceutical companies came up with a pill that helped enlarge my steeple, I would buy it...in a New York minute.