Friday, August 21, 2020

On Not Honking If You Love Jesus

         We have some friends who live in another state (i.e., not Ohio). A few days ago, they told me about a church near their home. Like so many congregations across the nation, this church has found an alternative way to meet during the pandemic. While many churches are broadcasting their services on the internet using programs like Zoom or YouTube, this church has created a drive-in sanctuary: Church members gather in their cars on the church parking lot while music and sermons are broadcast via a loudspeaker. I’m sure there are other churches doing this, but I don’t know where they are. A local church here in Ohio invites members to the parking lot while services are broadcast on short-range radio, but that’s not the same—if you aren’t near the church and your radio isn’t tuned to the right frequency, you will miss the service. You’re not forced to “attend.”

But this really caught my attention: “Apparently,” my friend said, “if the people like what they’re hearing, instead of saying, ‘Amen,’ they honk their horns.” Sure, I remember the old bumper sticker, "Honk, If You Love Jesus!" But I wonder.


If my friends could hear the service and the horns a couple blocks away, I’m guessing they were even louder near the church. As I think of people around that church, I imagine first-responders or ER personnel, who have worked through a hectic Saturday night, trying to get a little sleep; or maybe a parent who stayed up all night caring for a sick child, a child who finally settled into sleep, allowing the parent a moment to nap in a nearby chair. As the hearty choruses of “Amens” blared on Sunday morning, the prospect of sleep abandoned these people and anyone else who just wanted to sleep in after a tense week of trying to stay on top of the workload while trying to stay well.  And, of course, anyone tuned-in to the internet to hear messages from their own pastors found those messages interrupted by the honking.


While 99% of churches (unscientific estimate) have tried to keep their members healthy and have demonstrated empathy for those facing the COVID-crisis, some have undermined the church’s reputation by unloving statements and uncaring foolishness. Regrettably, the one percent (unscientific estimate) have received 75% (unscientific estimate) of the headlines. (Now be honest: you’ve seen more stories of ministers and churches being foolish during the pandemic than you’ve seen stories of churches and ministers modeling good sense.)


When the great isolation is over—and it will be over some day—people will remember the selfish, insensitive behavior of church leaders long after they’ve forgotten being unable to dash into the local Kroger or HEB without a mask. It’s time for responsible church leaders to remember the future. Can anyone say, “Amen” (or flash your headlights)?