Recently I spent a Wednesday night
in a Nashville suburb. As we drove
around looking for a place to eat I noticed most of the church parking lots
were full. On a Wednesday night! What’s that all about?
Ok, I wasn’t a pastor for the
better part of four decades without knowing about the midweek service, aka
“prayer meeting” or “Bible study.” It’s
a long tradition in Baptist, Pentecostal, and other evangelical churches. But, since the latter years of my ministry
were spent in central Ohio, I can attest that attendance at Wednesday evening
services there does not match what I saw in Nashville. Indeed, some churches in
Ohio have weighed dropping the service from the weekly schedule; often, it
survives only as a convenient prelude to choir rehearsal—though many choristers
skip the service.
Does this mean those from the South
are just more spiritual? Though the
region is sometimes called “the Bible Belt,” that term is misleading. During the 1920s and 1930s some of the most
prominent fundamentalists held forth from northern cities—Minneapolis, Chicago,
New York—and even from places like Pasadena and Los Angeles. Even Texas firebrand J. Frank Norris
ministered to a congregation in Detroit while he simultaneously served his Fort
Worth church. Even today, some of the
nation’s most evangelical schools are in northern states.
Of course, even keeping in mind the
fortune cookie’s advice, “Don’t let statistics do a number on you,” southerners
are more likely to be in church on Sunday morning than northerners. According to a 2015 Gallup study, each of the
ten states with highest church attendance were from the south, except for Utah
(which, ranked first). Of the ten states
with the lowest church attendance, five were from New England—the Mather’s and
Edwards would be scandalized—and the rest were from the northwest and west,
including Alaska and Hawaii. Nowhere,
with the exception of Utah (51%), does weekly church attendance exceed 50% of
the population. This, again, does not
necessarily point to greater regional spirituality. In the South, tradition is important; some
may be in church because it’s the place to be on Sunday mornings. The “halo effect” may have shaped answers
given to pollsters. Furthermore, it
seems the large African-American population in the South may also contribute to
the area’s high church attendance.
Southerners know the church has
long had a powerful influence on the culture.
While I served a small church in west Texas, the local ministerial
alliance sent representatives to the school superintendent to ask him to
instruct a new coach to end Wednesday evening softball practice because it
affected church activities. He promised
to do so and immediately the practices stopped.
In a state where a high school football stadium might be as large as
some small college stadiums, the fact a coach might be willing to limit
practices is remarkable. I cannot
imagine that happening in the suburb of Columbus, Ohio, where I later served;
the bleachers for the home side in the local high school stadium was smaller
than the visitor’s side. (Of course, it
might not happen in Texas today.)
Still, in many places a southern
politician who admits to spending Sunday morning at the lake rather than being
in a pew will likely lose votes. But,
wherever you’re from in the United States, you have to face a simple fact.
Church has changed, changed a lot
during my lifetime. At the first church
I served, I would have never thought of approaching the pulpit without wearing
a suit and tie. Today there had better
be a funeral if you choose to dress so formally.
There is a more significant
change. Churches once judged people but
those days are past. Now people judge
churches.
Even my fellow retired pastors and
I have trouble settling on a church to attend.
A friend attends a church where he doesn’t care for the music but likes
the preaching. Since I like good
preaching, I decided to attend; like my friend, I didn’t like the music, didn’t
like the preaching either.
In colonial Massachusetts, church
attendance was legally mandated; you could be fined for not attending. Then, too, there was only one church in the
community, no shopping around for a good fit.
The quest to be a church that fits inspires
congregations to drop names suggesting their denominational identity. Hence, the rise of “Hope House,” “Love
Fellowship,” “Gateway Church,” “Creekside Gathering,” and numerous other names
that conceal a church’s identity as Baptist, Pentecostal, or whatever. Apparently, such churches avoid traditional
names lest potential visitors say, “Hmm, that’s a Baptist church. From what I know about Baptists, I doubt it
would be a good fit for me.”
On the same trip that took me to
Nashville, I also visited a large city in Texas. It seemed like there were churches
everywhere, churches that had been in that city for decades or maybe for a
century or more. Yet, I lost count of new
churches in strip malls and warehouses, churches started by men and women
hoping to reach those who couldn’t find a church that fit.
Since, even folks who have long
been associated with a church have trouble finding a place to worship and grow
in faith, maybe you do too. With this in
mind, let me bring this rambling essay to a close with a few observations.
I think it’s important to be
part of a church. That opinion is
not rooted in residual vested interest.
People who are part of a church fellowship are happier, feel part of a
support system, and have a sense of camaraderie when facing the challenges of
life. Maybe that’s why the writer of
Hebrews encouraged believers to maintain their ties to the church when tough
times loomed (Heb. 10:24-25).
I think it unwise to judge the
Church by a church. Congregations
sometimes go astray. The church may fall
prey to a twisted leader or sometimes it simply becomes an incubator for
unChristlike attitudes and behaviors.
While the Westboro Baptist Church has been the most notorious American
congregation in recent days, many innocent people have been hurt by the
heartless or excessive behavior of lesser-known congregations. This is a terrible wrong but it is unjust to
condemn all churches for the actions of a few.
While there are churches like the
Westboro church, there are scores more that seek to help rather than harm, to
heal rather than hurt. Even when
churches take a conservative social stand, most strive to embody the principle
of hating the sin but loving the sinner.
Don’t judge a church by a single sermon; if the pastor somehow uses
every text to attack homosexuality or abortion, then you should consider
finding a church with a more balanced focus.
But, of course, I think it’s a
mistake to ask a church to never challenge your perspective or opinion. Looking for a preacher who will endorse what
you already believe about such matters as race, health care, gun control, or
public schools robs you of an opportunity to exercise your mind. When the preacher presents a view different
than your own, she is asking you to reexamine the ground for your position
whether or not her sermon changes your mind.
Who knows what brought those people
out to their churches that Wednesday evening?
I do know there are some good reasons for your car to be on some church
parking lot next Sunday morning.
