Country Club Church...
My alarm went off Sunday morning... It was pitch black outside, and would remain so until about noon when the sun would barely rise above the horizon then disappear just a few hours later. I woke up and felt my way to the bathroom where I was lucky enough to get a quick warm bath. The water was brown... but at least it was nice and warm for a few minutes. I put on my 'sunday best'... layered over my long johns... buttoned up my fur coat (muskrat, I believe)... and soon enough, we were off on our way to church. A walk through through the small, arctic circle town of Zapolyarne, Russia. There were several feet of snow piled high against the buildings around us... and I'm pretty sure I never even saw the ground during my several day visit to this town... the snow was packed so deep. I was looking forward to a whimsical snowfall... but was told that at nearly -40 degrees C. it was 'too cold' to snow.
We were visiting a group of believers in this town to equip them to perform a passion play for their upcoming Orthodox Easter celebration. While the gospel isn't widely accepted (in a public forum) in this country... the arts are. We would teach them to spread the gospel through the arts... and I was there to teach dance.
It was a small church service, numbers-wise, but not very 'small' in any other way. It seemed that the entire congregation was there early to help set up. And after everything was ready... many were off to the bathroom to change into their 'sunday clothes'. Their 'best' did not resemble the latest trends or fashion... it was simply 'the best they had'... most of them wore the same 'sunday best' outfit every Sunday.
Worship began... and I recognized most of the songs... and eventually picked up on the Russian translation. It struck me as 'odd' that even though English and Russian have little in common... they still found a way to fit their beautiful native tongue into our 'meant for english' melodies. Wow... it didn't seem like a perfect fit... but they continued to sing... sing beautifully, loud. Of course, since I was the 'dancer'... many of the children (along with some women and a few men)...huddled behind me waiting for me to begin.
That's what dancers do... right? They dance. Gifted singers lead the congregation in song. Gifted musicians lead the congregation in music. Those called to lead and preach... prepare sermons.
Of course you don't have to be a gifted singer in order to lift your voice in worship... just as you don't have to be a gifted dancer in order to move and dance in worship. But there was a naturally sense of expectation here... you're a dancer... why wouldn't you dance?
As soon as I took a moment to sacrifice my pride and slight embarrassment... I began to lead those who wanted to dance in worship. They sang and danced... and eventually it was time for the message.
I remember people bundling back up... because it would soon grow colder in the room with people sitting still. There were long, skinny wooden benches. It was a balancing act fit for an Olympic event, just to sit there for the entire sermon. Shoulder to shoulder... no one dared to move and disrupt there 'team of players'. No one got up to use the bathroom. No one rummaged through their purse for a piece of gum. No one slouched. No one dozed off. I was in culture shock. Sunday morning culture shock.
These believers were hungry. Hungry to hear the word of God. Hungry for truth... longing for encouragement in an area with one of the highest rates of depression, alcoholism and suicide in the world. Hungry for real fellowship with other believers.
After the message... they lingered in the rented building for as long as they were allowed. Visiting... laughing... praying... it was quite the event. No one seemed to rush off in a hurry. They seemed to savor this sacred Sunday ritual.
I came home in culture shock. CULTURE SHOCK.
CULTURE: (defined by Merriam-Webster)
1 a : the belief's, customs, arts, etc., of a particular society, group, place, or time
b: a particular society that has its own belief's, ways of life, art, etc.
2: a way of thinking, behaving, or working that exists in a place or organization
Well... back to my intense sense of culture shock, conviction and acknowledgement of 'change-worthy' behavior. I know I came back to the States... and my particular church culture... convicted to change. And I know that I did... for a while.
That was a decade ago...
and now, I stand convicted, once again... I swam against the current for a while. But out of fatigue, frustration, ambivalence, or possibly no reason at all ... I have found myself caught up in the undertow of the church culture that once shocked and appalled me.
This is not necessarily a 'dig' at MY church... but rather an observation of the way many of us have come to view our own churches. Convenient. Casual... just the way 'we' do things. Some cultural changes are of little to no consequence. For instance... I grew up wearing crinolines and patten leather shoes to church... while in many churches, these days, jeans aren't uncommon.
My point isn't to say... 'this church' is right... while these churches are wrong. My main point in writing this is to show my own 'degrees of cultural change'... and the drastic varieties of 'church cultures' I've experienced... and how it might just be helpful to experience other cultures.
COUNTRY CLUB CHURCH...
I woke up a bit late and disheveled... not wanting to get out of bed. We had been out late the night before... and hadn't taken the time to prepare for church the next day.
My husband and I managed to get the kids together and off we were to church. Hmmm... I didn't get my morning dose of caffeine, so I ask my husband to go through Starbucks. It took a little longer than usual, but heaven forbid I do with my much needed legally addictive stimulant.
We pulled into the parking lot at 10:05. Wow... that's pretty good for pulling everyone together and grabbing a latte on the way. It takes us an unexpected 10 minutes to make it from the parking lot to our seats... by that time... we've missed the first few songs. Ugh, I cringe a little... and hold my coffee low by my side... feeling a bit guilty for my $4 'necessary' indulgence. Just then... I notice another couple walk in after us with their familiar, piping hot cups of 'traffic' (as we like to joke in my family). You know... 'ahh... sorry I'm late... traffic was awful'... it just doesn't fly with a hot Starbucks cup in tote.
Anyway... I don't feel so bad when I compare myself to the people that walk in later than me. I continue to worship... I only sip my coffee 'between songs'.
In our church we take a brief intermission to take the children to their classes. Many times I'll run into someone in the hall... not making it into the message until a few minutes after it begins.
I sit down... in my usual seat... and notice everyone looking at their phones... hmmm, I give them the benefit of the doubt... they're probably taking notes. I glance down the row a few seats and clearly see someone checking facebook. Hmm... that 'shouldn't be' totally unacceptable... yet, they blend in with everyone else.
I glance around and notice one of my friends isn't there that morning... I quickly send her a text 'Where are you?'... 'Everything ok?'... wait a minute... what did the pastor just say? Totally acceptable?
My sister... who was bringing her cup of 'traffic' to church late just a year ago has had a change of heart. She is now a member of a Pentecostal church in Philadelphia... where she is, appropriately, the only white girl in the bunch. Her 'church cultural' experience is quite different now. No one would ever dare show up late... and no one would dream of bringing a coffee into the sanctuary. Jeans are completely out of the question.
She looks around our church. 'Man, it would be so hard to speak at this church... everyone seems so disengaged'.
I mean... the pastor spends so much time and energy preparing a sermon. He's speaking the truth... in a passionate way... yet not many people respond. You have a few 'Amens' or 'That's right's'... but for the most part we don't interact with our pastor. It's not that we don't agree... it's just the culture we've gotten used to. It's the culture my sister grew up in... not to mention that she was 'facebooking' with the best of them a year ago. But with an exposure to a completely different culture... she has learned to question one that she used to unquestioningly except.
Church has become comfortable... even cool (or at least trying to be). We wear our best skinny jeans (yes, I finally caved and bought a pair)... we flat-iron our hair. We sit with the same people. We catch up with friends in the lobby. We allow our husbands to rudely rush off to make it home for 'the game' without questioning them. Without reminding them that there could be someone in need of encouragement that they're selfishly overlooking. It would be nice if men could remind each other of this... but just like my cup of Starbucks, it doesn't seem that bad if everyone else is doing it.
Back to the skinny jeans. I used to be convicted to wear things that were modest, that I was able to easily move around in during worship. But at some point... being 'cute' has taken precedence over functionality. Heaven forbid the 'Holy Spirit' move and inspire me to dance as we're commanded to do in the Psalms. I can't! My jeans are too tight!
Dear Christian,
Is there room for the Holy Spirit in your church culture? Or has making it to worship on time or lying prostrate before the Lord (as common in scripture) been crowded out by our Starbucks and skinny jeans?
Would you be able to 'enter in' to worship if you weren't used to the songs? Would you be able to join in fellowship and encouragement if you happened to visit a church where you knew no one? Would you be able to lay aside the game to stay late and encourage a friend? Would you be able to walk through the lobby with a smile if you had to wear some baggy pleated khakis instead of your new appropriately faded and torn $100 jeans?
Would I be able to give up a late Saturday night in order to prepare my family ahead of time for church? Can I give up my coffee in order to spend more time in worship? Am I willing to give up conversation with my family and friends in order to talk to someone new?
The undertows of church culture can be scary. You don't realize you're being swept away until you're out too far. What if we stripped the culture away from our churches? Would we see the gospel? Or would we just wander around... feeling out of place and insecure without our comforting culture to cling to?
Do we have a country club way of viewing our church? There for our pleasure and enjoyment. If you're a member... you fit right in, showing up for the things that interest you. If you're not a member... well versed in the lingo and uniform... well, not only do you not fit in... but you find it quite exclusive and a bit cult-like.
We are just so comfortable. Of course we don't have to huddle on rickety wooden benches or walk a mile to church in the dark. But if that was suddenly required of us... I have a feeling the churches around here would not be as bustling and popular.
Why not expose yourself to another church culture in your area? When was the last time you spent time with other believers... simply because you have Jesus in common. When was the last time you gave up your cup of coffee or danced foolishly before the Lord? Does the gospel reign in our lives or do our cultural preferences? It seems easier to go overseas to Russia and be convicted... but let me assure you of the many 'gospel centered' churches in your area that could challenge us in the same ways.
Let's remind each other and ask questions when we see our brothers and sisters slipping into cultural ambivalence. Let's encourage AND admonish one another. Let's be wary of constant encouragement... and little admonishment.
I am guilty of all of the above... except getting 'home for the game' rudeness... although I must confess that I've missed a Sunday night church meeting before due to my 'Survivor watching habit'. It's a slippery slope... and once again I have slipped.
So here's where I'm at. Convicted. Slightly embarrassed... but ultimately thankful. Thankful for fresh conviction from the Holy Spirit. Thankful for people in my life that 'do things differently'. Thankful for churches where everyone wears sequins and dance shoes 'just in case'. Thankful for friends with different beliefs... that cause me to question my own and consider a different perspective. Thankful for people in my own church that sharpen me. Thankful for mercies that are new... Thankful for Starbucks... but thankful that I can move it way down on my list of necessities.
We were visiting a group of believers in this town to equip them to perform a passion play for their upcoming Orthodox Easter celebration. While the gospel isn't widely accepted (in a public forum) in this country... the arts are. We would teach them to spread the gospel through the arts... and I was there to teach dance.
It was a small church service, numbers-wise, but not very 'small' in any other way. It seemed that the entire congregation was there early to help set up. And after everything was ready... many were off to the bathroom to change into their 'sunday clothes'. Their 'best' did not resemble the latest trends or fashion... it was simply 'the best they had'... most of them wore the same 'sunday best' outfit every Sunday.
Worship began... and I recognized most of the songs... and eventually picked up on the Russian translation. It struck me as 'odd' that even though English and Russian have little in common... they still found a way to fit their beautiful native tongue into our 'meant for english' melodies. Wow... it didn't seem like a perfect fit... but they continued to sing... sing beautifully, loud. Of course, since I was the 'dancer'... many of the children (along with some women and a few men)...huddled behind me waiting for me to begin.
That's what dancers do... right? They dance. Gifted singers lead the congregation in song. Gifted musicians lead the congregation in music. Those called to lead and preach... prepare sermons.
Of course you don't have to be a gifted singer in order to lift your voice in worship... just as you don't have to be a gifted dancer in order to move and dance in worship. But there was a naturally sense of expectation here... you're a dancer... why wouldn't you dance?
As soon as I took a moment to sacrifice my pride and slight embarrassment... I began to lead those who wanted to dance in worship. They sang and danced... and eventually it was time for the message.
I remember people bundling back up... because it would soon grow colder in the room with people sitting still. There were long, skinny wooden benches. It was a balancing act fit for an Olympic event, just to sit there for the entire sermon. Shoulder to shoulder... no one dared to move and disrupt there 'team of players'. No one got up to use the bathroom. No one rummaged through their purse for a piece of gum. No one slouched. No one dozed off. I was in culture shock. Sunday morning culture shock.
These believers were hungry. Hungry to hear the word of God. Hungry for truth... longing for encouragement in an area with one of the highest rates of depression, alcoholism and suicide in the world. Hungry for real fellowship with other believers.
After the message... they lingered in the rented building for as long as they were allowed. Visiting... laughing... praying... it was quite the event. No one seemed to rush off in a hurry. They seemed to savor this sacred Sunday ritual.
I came home in culture shock. CULTURE SHOCK.
CULTURE: (defined by Merriam-Webster)
1 a : the belief's, customs, arts, etc., of a particular society, group, place, or time
b: a particular society that has its own belief's, ways of life, art, etc.
2: a way of thinking, behaving, or working that exists in a place or organization
Well... back to my intense sense of culture shock, conviction and acknowledgement of 'change-worthy' behavior. I know I came back to the States... and my particular church culture... convicted to change. And I know that I did... for a while.
That was a decade ago...
and now, I stand convicted, once again... I swam against the current for a while. But out of fatigue, frustration, ambivalence, or possibly no reason at all ... I have found myself caught up in the undertow of the church culture that once shocked and appalled me.
This is not necessarily a 'dig' at MY church... but rather an observation of the way many of us have come to view our own churches. Convenient. Casual... just the way 'we' do things. Some cultural changes are of little to no consequence. For instance... I grew up wearing crinolines and patten leather shoes to church... while in many churches, these days, jeans aren't uncommon.
My point isn't to say... 'this church' is right... while these churches are wrong. My main point in writing this is to show my own 'degrees of cultural change'... and the drastic varieties of 'church cultures' I've experienced... and how it might just be helpful to experience other cultures.
COUNTRY CLUB CHURCH...
I woke up a bit late and disheveled... not wanting to get out of bed. We had been out late the night before... and hadn't taken the time to prepare for church the next day.
My husband and I managed to get the kids together and off we were to church. Hmmm... I didn't get my morning dose of caffeine, so I ask my husband to go through Starbucks. It took a little longer than usual, but heaven forbid I do with my much needed legally addictive stimulant.
We pulled into the parking lot at 10:05. Wow... that's pretty good for pulling everyone together and grabbing a latte on the way. It takes us an unexpected 10 minutes to make it from the parking lot to our seats... by that time... we've missed the first few songs. Ugh, I cringe a little... and hold my coffee low by my side... feeling a bit guilty for my $4 'necessary' indulgence. Just then... I notice another couple walk in after us with their familiar, piping hot cups of 'traffic' (as we like to joke in my family). You know... 'ahh... sorry I'm late... traffic was awful'... it just doesn't fly with a hot Starbucks cup in tote.
Anyway... I don't feel so bad when I compare myself to the people that walk in later than me. I continue to worship... I only sip my coffee 'between songs'.
In our church we take a brief intermission to take the children to their classes. Many times I'll run into someone in the hall... not making it into the message until a few minutes after it begins.
I sit down... in my usual seat... and notice everyone looking at their phones... hmmm, I give them the benefit of the doubt... they're probably taking notes. I glance down the row a few seats and clearly see someone checking facebook. Hmm... that 'shouldn't be' totally unacceptable... yet, they blend in with everyone else.
I glance around and notice one of my friends isn't there that morning... I quickly send her a text 'Where are you?'... 'Everything ok?'... wait a minute... what did the pastor just say? Totally acceptable?
My sister... who was bringing her cup of 'traffic' to church late just a year ago has had a change of heart. She is now a member of a Pentecostal church in Philadelphia... where she is, appropriately, the only white girl in the bunch. Her 'church cultural' experience is quite different now. No one would ever dare show up late... and no one would dream of bringing a coffee into the sanctuary. Jeans are completely out of the question.
She looks around our church. 'Man, it would be so hard to speak at this church... everyone seems so disengaged'.
I mean... the pastor spends so much time and energy preparing a sermon. He's speaking the truth... in a passionate way... yet not many people respond. You have a few 'Amens' or 'That's right's'... but for the most part we don't interact with our pastor. It's not that we don't agree... it's just the culture we've gotten used to. It's the culture my sister grew up in... not to mention that she was 'facebooking' with the best of them a year ago. But with an exposure to a completely different culture... she has learned to question one that she used to unquestioningly except.
Church has become comfortable... even cool (or at least trying to be). We wear our best skinny jeans (yes, I finally caved and bought a pair)... we flat-iron our hair. We sit with the same people. We catch up with friends in the lobby. We allow our husbands to rudely rush off to make it home for 'the game' without questioning them. Without reminding them that there could be someone in need of encouragement that they're selfishly overlooking. It would be nice if men could remind each other of this... but just like my cup of Starbucks, it doesn't seem that bad if everyone else is doing it.
Back to the skinny jeans. I used to be convicted to wear things that were modest, that I was able to easily move around in during worship. But at some point... being 'cute' has taken precedence over functionality. Heaven forbid the 'Holy Spirit' move and inspire me to dance as we're commanded to do in the Psalms. I can't! My jeans are too tight!
Dear Christian,
Is there room for the Holy Spirit in your church culture? Or has making it to worship on time or lying prostrate before the Lord (as common in scripture) been crowded out by our Starbucks and skinny jeans?
Would you be able to 'enter in' to worship if you weren't used to the songs? Would you be able to join in fellowship and encouragement if you happened to visit a church where you knew no one? Would you be able to lay aside the game to stay late and encourage a friend? Would you be able to walk through the lobby with a smile if you had to wear some baggy pleated khakis instead of your new appropriately faded and torn $100 jeans?
Would I be able to give up a late Saturday night in order to prepare my family ahead of time for church? Can I give up my coffee in order to spend more time in worship? Am I willing to give up conversation with my family and friends in order to talk to someone new?
The undertows of church culture can be scary. You don't realize you're being swept away until you're out too far. What if we stripped the culture away from our churches? Would we see the gospel? Or would we just wander around... feeling out of place and insecure without our comforting culture to cling to?
Do we have a country club way of viewing our church? There for our pleasure and enjoyment. If you're a member... you fit right in, showing up for the things that interest you. If you're not a member... well versed in the lingo and uniform... well, not only do you not fit in... but you find it quite exclusive and a bit cult-like.
We are just so comfortable. Of course we don't have to huddle on rickety wooden benches or walk a mile to church in the dark. But if that was suddenly required of us... I have a feeling the churches around here would not be as bustling and popular.
Why not expose yourself to another church culture in your area? When was the last time you spent time with other believers... simply because you have Jesus in common. When was the last time you gave up your cup of coffee or danced foolishly before the Lord? Does the gospel reign in our lives or do our cultural preferences? It seems easier to go overseas to Russia and be convicted... but let me assure you of the many 'gospel centered' churches in your area that could challenge us in the same ways.
Let's remind each other and ask questions when we see our brothers and sisters slipping into cultural ambivalence. Let's encourage AND admonish one another. Let's be wary of constant encouragement... and little admonishment.
I am guilty of all of the above... except getting 'home for the game' rudeness... although I must confess that I've missed a Sunday night church meeting before due to my 'Survivor watching habit'. It's a slippery slope... and once again I have slipped.
So here's where I'm at. Convicted. Slightly embarrassed... but ultimately thankful. Thankful for fresh conviction from the Holy Spirit. Thankful for people in my life that 'do things differently'. Thankful for churches where everyone wears sequins and dance shoes 'just in case'. Thankful for friends with different beliefs... that cause me to question my own and consider a different perspective. Thankful for people in my own church that sharpen me. Thankful for mercies that are new... Thankful for Starbucks... but thankful that I can move it way down on my list of necessities.
Comments
Your post was sweet and honest.. and even though I have not seen you in over a year, I still love this about you. Thanks for encouraging my heart.
XOXO, Ash Hunt (a little love from Dallas!)
Hurray. Hurrah. Hurray. What you are saying is so true. I'm convicted of my wish-washy feelings about church attendance and my ambivalence on being on time.
I think of our fellow believers in China that sacrifice so much just to be together. We sacrifice nothing. May the Holy Spirit continue to convict us and change us and grow us as His bride.
Great truth reminders. Love you friend.
Jennifer Leigh