The Grand Illusion

So I preached last Sunday, and I really tried not to pull any punches. The talk was on the parable of the “rich fool”, and the punchline was that we don’t really trust God, even though we say we do. We fall for the “grand illusion” that one of my favorite bands, Styx, sang about in the early 80s:

But don’t be fooled by the radio / The tv or the magazines / They show you photographs of how your life should be / But they’re just someone else’s fantasy / So if you think your life is complete confusion /
Because your neighbors got it made / Just remember that it’s a grand illusion / And deep inside were all the same.

So after I’m done, I get all sorts of people thanking me for the message. One guy said it was the best he’s heard me give. They’re happy that I told them we’re all a bunch of hypocrites who don’t really trust Jesus when he says he’ll take care of us? They’re happy that I said we’re just dupes who fall for the wisdom of the world, which tells us to get more and more stuff for ourselves? Shouldn’t they be mad at me instead, or at least offended?

So maybe the real grand illusion is the one that preachers fall for. We think we need to make our listeners feel happy about the decisions they’ve already made. I think they’re more satisfied when we just tell them the truth.

Let’s start a church! Oh wait, maybe not

I’ve been thinking for some time of what it would take to start a church. That is, what it would take for me to start a church. It sounds like a fun, challenging, and worthwhile idea — at least, it did until I watched my friend in the middle of one.

It seems the problem lies in whatever meaning people pour in to the word “church”. In English, the word could mean a building, a meeting held at the building, or the group of people who attend that meeting. But even more difficult are the things people attach to the notion of church. There appears to be an assumption that a church should have certain features, like youth group and moms’ day out, and provide certain offerings, such as marriage ceremonies and confirmation classes. People may start attending because they like the pastor or whatever, but sooner or later it seems they inevitably start looking around for the other stuff.

Maybe it’s because the church takes money. If people give to the church, maybe they think the church should be doing something for them.

So I don’t want to start a church anymore. Instead, I’d like to be part of a community that does the four things the disciples did in Acts: the apostles’ teaching, fellowship, eating together, and praying. Let’s not call it church. Let’s not take money. Let’s just start doing the stuff the apostles did — and see what happens.

Church Fantasies

I recently read an article in the Midwest Covenant Messenger, the newsletter of the Midwest Covenant Conference. In the article, Dr. John Wenrich was quoted from a conference held this year. In talking about church growth, Dr. Wenrich stated there are two fantasies present in many churches.

  • The first fantasy is that there can be growth (numeric and otherwise) without change.
  • The second fantasy is that there can be change without some degree of pain.

I’ve been in a number of meetings and conversations, especially recently, where the subject of church growth (specifically, numbers) has come up. No one, though, is talking about making painful choices. There’s a fantasy that growth will just happen, I guess. It’s as though people are saying, “Let’s continue doing the same things we’ve always done, but just do them better!” According to Dr. Wenrich, that’s a recipe for stagnation, not growth.

My wife has a saying which has been speaking to me. She’s even drawn it up on a little poster. The saying is:

Dreams can quickly become fantasies if we are not willing to risk and bleed for our future.

I’m resolving not to have any dreams that I’m not willing to bleed for. How about you?

You can read the whole article in the Covenant newsletter here.