NOTE

• • •

Unless something unforeseen arises, I won’t be reading Mark Driscoll’s new book, Real Marriage: The Truth about Sex, Friendship & Life Together. I have read the first chapter and several passages quoted in reviews, but only in preparation for this post.

It’s simply not the kind of book I think is wise or helpful.

Besides the fact that it is not written for people like me, who have been married for a few decades, I can’t imagine wanting to read this book. Is this because I am older and wiser now? Who knows? I guess I did read a few books like this when I was younger, but to be honest, even then I never found them that helpful for me personally or for the people I was trying to serve as their pastor.

Mark Driscoll disagrees.

Because we are a pastor and his wife, we really do want this book to be used of God to help people. It’s the kind of book we wished we could have read earlier in our marriage, and wish we could have given to those we served in ministry. So we wrote what we hope is a book that is biblically faithful, emotionally hopeful, practically helpful, sociologically viable, and personally vulnerable.

I think what he has given us is just another evangelical circus act.

First of all, what pastoral theology taught Driscoll to be a marriage counselor or sex therapist?

That is not a pastor’s job.

I know. I know. Driscoll believes that the church is called to be missionaries to our overly sexualized culture. Hmm. How did Paul serve people as a missionary in the immoral, pornographic world of his day? Does Driscoll’s approach bear any resemblance to apostolic ministry?

For someone touted as truly Reformed with a high view of Scripture, where in the Bible do you find anything like this kind of self-focused, self-promoting, sensational (note how “Sex” gets pride of place in the subtitle), confessional-style, behind-the-scenes peek into someone’s home and bedroom employed as a legitimate tool of ministry? Packaged and promoted to be a bestseller, to boot. Become a big shot, write a book. Act all vulnerable and real. It’s the American way, not the apostolic pattern.

The very last thing any of us need is a purportedly Christian “how to” book exposing the intimate revelations of some hot-shot celebrity pastor and his wife to guide us in the most important relationships in our lives.

This, in a nutshell, is the bane of American religion.

What I have read from the book convinces me that I would have some criticisms typical of the usual flak Driscoll receives for the persona he sets forth, the coarse, in your face style which is his trademark, and, not least, his opinions about men and women. For example, if I were a strong complementarian like Driscoll, and believed it was my duty as a husband to protect my wife, why in the world would I encourage her to share the intimate details of her sex life with the world? And how is it that a biblicist like Mark Driscoll has bought into the therapeutic ethos of the culture, promoting this kind of “vulnerability” as an approach to ministry?

But I don’t even want to go there. The whole approach is off-base. I find the very idea of this book as misguided and distasteful as Ted Haggard appearing on Celebrity Wife Swap as a “testimony” to his “resurrection.”

This is our idea of Christian “impact”? Of helping people see Jesus? Of helping people become truly mature, pure, and loving followers of Jesus? If I want to experience a little boy running around the room all day shouting, “Look at me! Look at me!” then I will invite my three-year old grandson over to spend some time with me.

What we need are real people in our lives. Real family members. Real friends. Real brothers and sisters. Real pastors. Real churches. Real neighbors. Who will tell us and show us what real life is like. And actually walk beside us in it. Not hand us a juicy book.

Furthermore, we need people who are courageous enough to refuse to pander to our personal preoccupations and our culture’s obsession with sex, even within marriage. We need people to help us discern what is and what is not an appropriate topic for public conversation among followers of Christ. We need spiritual mentors who will look us straight in the eye and tell us to get real help if we need it. We need older men and women who can come alongside younger men and women and mentor them about virtues like chastity, privacy, respect, modesty, and restraint.

And…we need pastors to hear our confessions and pronounce absolution through Christ’s finished work. Pastors who will nourish us with the Word of the Gospel and food from Christ’s Table. Pastors who will catechize us and teach us and pray for us so that we will die to ourselves each day and rise again to walk in newness of life with Jesus — a life of faith that works through genuine love for others, including our spouses. Pastors who will encourage us to seek first the Kingdom, to involve ourselves in an enterprise bigger than ourselves and to serve others with grace, kindness, and humility. Pastors who can help us put all of life in perspective in Christ and not focus our attention on such things as which sex acts are permissible for married couples.

We need spiritual nourishment and spiritual formation. And I am not using the word “spiritual” in some dualistic sense that leaves out matters like marriage and the marriage bed. I mean it in the sense of our deepest selves, our very lives and all that they encompass.

What we do not need is rock star celebrity pastors pontificating on the big screens of their cool megachurches about how Song of Solomon is a sex guide or writing books laying bare the intimate details of their lives in wrongheaded attempts to be relevant and edgy. Hurting and bewildered people deserve better than that.

Even if Mark Driscoll says some good, helpful things in this book — and I’m sure he does — I wouldn’t be able to hear them over the circus music.

You see, this rant is really not about a pastor and his wife and the book they wrote. It’s about the system of American evangelicalism that glorifies all the wrong things and seeks “answers” in all the wrong places.

• • •

For further analysis, here are two critical reviews of Real Marriage:

• Tim Challies
• Rachel Held Evans

Moderation Rules for This Post

• Short comments only. Anything longer than one reasonably sized paragraph (3-4 sentences) will be deleted.
• No provocative sexual language will be tolerated.
• No links.
• I will be the judge. I will not explain my decisions.
• Don’t take moderation personally. It’s not. It’s just the rules by which we are playing this particular game.

Jesus washing the feet of his disciples, Michael Šplho

Mark Galli is speaking my language (again). Every pastor and church leader needs to read his article, “Why We Need More ‘Chaplains’ and Fewer Leaders.”

Much to my personal dismay, “chaplain” is apparently a dirty word — at least to those who claim to know what makes a good leader in a healthy church.

Mark recently received one of those ubiquitous church growth communiqués listing qualities of healthy/unhealthy churches and suggesting kinds of pastoral leadership that can solve the problems. One mark of an unhealthy church was, “the pastor has become a chaplain.”

“Chaplain” was fourth on a list of five types of pastors — Catalytic, Cultivator, Conflict-Quelling, Chaplain, Catatonic. Fourth is not good.

It’s nice to know “experts” think people like me are just one step away from being catatonic. Gee, thanks.

Mark Galli rightly opposes this analysis. But let me be even more blunt than he is in his fine article – this kind of analysis, this motivational corporate business-speak dressed up with a few spiritual words to make it appear applicable to church settings, is a pure abomination. Not that we can’t learn anything from the corporate world, but for heaven’s sake, the American church has bought into this “wisdom” to such a degree that most church “leaders” wouldn’t know genuine pastoral theology if it bit them on the nose. Of course pastors must provide a certain level of institutional leadership — any group of people that comes together will have to deal with institutional matters — but when corporate leadership paradigms come to define who we are, what we do, and how we do what we do, we are in deep doo-doo.

To his credit, Galli is willing to speak out, as the evangelical circus parade passes by, that the ringmaster has no clothes, and that the entire circus apparatus and even the audience is supporting the lies that the ringmaster is believing.

What is so bad about being a “chaplain” pastor? Chaplain pastors, according to the piece Galli received, “want to bring healing to hurting souls.” Heaven forbid!

We find ourselves in an odd period of church history when many people have become so used to large, impersonal institutions that they want that in their church as well. Thus the attraction of megachurches, where people can blend in and not be seen if they want. Many thought leaders who ponder church life naturally end up championing massive institutions and denigrating (inadvertently, to be sure) the healing of hurting souls. And this in a community whose theology is supposedly grounded in the universal and cosmic love of God who gives attention to each of us as individuals.

Mark also notes that a chaplain is essentially a servant, not an entrepreneurial leader who functions in the style our culture honors with the most attention and accolades. I understand the longing for respect that many pastors have. They (rightly) feel that they are doing some of the most important work in the world, but get little recognition for it. The temptation is strong to make use of resources that are readily available and to pattern ministry after corporate models that influential parishioners will appreciate and support. When it “works,” as it often does, the result is a religion that sparkles, a faith for winners.

There’s only one problem — that isn’t Jesus’ way. I mean, isn’t that obvious? If you’re a minister and it’s not obvious to you, I question whether you should be in ministry. As Mark Galli paraphrases:

And Jesus called them to him and said to them, ‘You know that those who are considered rulers of the Gentiles like to be seen as “leaders,” “entrepreneurs,” “catalysts for growth,” and their great ones exercise authority over them. But it shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many’ ” (Mark 10:42-45).

Jesus could not have been clearer, whether by word or example. And so it was with the apostles, who spread the Gospel to the ends of the earth as suffering servants, not superstars; who built humble communities of loving service, not “great” churches.

It is time to reclaim good words like “pastor” and “chaplain” from the foolish counselors who are leading us astray and undermining the foundations of the church.

The American church is in deep trouble, and Mark Galli has put his finger on a primary reason — her leaders have no idea what they’re supposed to be doing or how they’re supposed to be doing it.

Is it possible we’ve lost touch with the One who can show us?

We still have Barnes & Noble, thankfully. And I’ve used my Amazon Prime shipping membership this year to fullest advantage. Nevertheless, it was Borders where we went most regularly, so it will be missed.

Religion News Service ran a feature on Sept. 16 on the push for Christian bookstores to take advantage of Borders’ closing.

After Borders announced its liquidation in July, Colorado Springs, Colo.-based CBA sent an alert to member stores: “Post Borders Growth Strategy: As Borders Shuts its Doors, Christian Booksellers Should Open Theirs Wider.”

“Today, Borders is irrelevant in the world of bookselling,” the document states. “If we do not adapt to the changing marketplace and new technologies, our influence will diminish or disappear altogether.”

The letter offers suggestions for retailers including discounts for customers with Borders loyalty cards and trying to lure former Borders customers into Christian stores.

“It is always sad when a bookstore that makes Christian materials available to the public can no longer do that,” said Curtis Riskey, CBA executive director. “However, the chain’s demise does create more opportunities for independent local Christian stores to fill the gap.”

Ain’t gonna happen. At least not with this book junkie.

Not until I can go to my local Family Christian Store or independent Christian bookstore and…

• Find serious works about theology by people who aren’t named Wayne Grudem.
• Find actual books about church history that explore what happened before the church growth movement.
• Find a good selection of books by mainline Protestant authors.
• Find a section in the store that contains a good selection of substantial contributions by Roman Catholic and Orthodox writers.
• Find books and resources that deal with the church year, the lectionary, liturgical worship, religious art, various church denominations and traditions, hymnody, and serious Christian thinking about the arts and sciences.
• Peruse a good stock of real Christian music such as Bach, traditional choral works, and renditions of hymns and gospel songs that don’t all come from the Smokey Mountains or Alexandria, Indiana.
• Not have to see Joyce Meyer, Joel Osteen, and T.D. Jakes, et al, smiling at me from piled-high displays at the front of the store.
• Find works of serious literature and fiction that aren’t about demon invasions, car crashes on the interstate because of the rapture, or forbidden Amish romances.
• Find useful pastoral resources other than attendance books, Sunday School prizes, and candles for the Christmas Eve service. And, for heaven’s sake, can we have some pastoral theology books and helps that go beyond “How to Grow Your Church” or “How to Organize Your Church”?
• Find a decent section of personal and corporate devotional resources that don’t have the word “Chicken Soup” in the title. Book of Common Prayer or a hymnal, anyone?
• Talk to a store clerk or manager who actually realizes that not all churches are named, “Replenish” or “Encounter,” that they do not all exist in white suburbia serving lattes at their coffee bars, and that it was possible to worship before Chris Tomlin started writing songs.
• Find serious commentaries and works of Biblical study written by actual scholars, and not by folks with names like John MacArthur or Beth Moore.

I found most of those things at Borders. I rarely find those things at my local “Christian” bookstore. As a result, I hardly ever stop by any more. They have defined “Christian” far too narrowly and are missing out on a vast market that they will probably never even consider.

Steve Potratz, the CEO of The Parable Group, which provides marketing for 109 Christian retailers, including 40 Parable franchise stores, says they are doing more online advertising to attract new customers while Borders liquidates. Some stores are offering more gifts, and by year’s end, e-books to accommodate demand.

Please note. We’re increasing the marketing push. No word about improving the quality and comprehensiveness of store inventory.

Their focus remains narrow, as they seek to serve “a niche audience that shares the same passionate beliefs.”

“We know where most of our customers are on Sunday morning,” Potratz said. “The opportunity to work with a church, and partner with a church, is critical, and I am seeing more and more of our stores looking for and gaining opportunity to help and resource the church.”

Sorry, Steve. What you are doing is seeking “to help and resource” a small segment of the “Christian” market. If the church even begins to do its job of bringing people to maturity in Christ, the pablum you offer will soon cease to satisfy. And meanwhile, those of us in the post-evangelical wilderness may stop by once or twice a year to buy a card for a religious occasion or something like that.

If you’d like to talk, you can find me at Barnes & Noble.

By Chaplain Mike

I haven’t really offended anyone for awhile, but I’m pretty sure that streak stops with this one. Sorry, but somebody must speak up and draw a line somewhere when it comes to what some call “worship” music.

Today, I’m writing about one song.

Churches everywhere sing it these days.

Many, many well-known artists in the Christian music industry have covered this song.

It has a pious, emotional backstory that people find inspiring.

It rose to #8 on Billboard Christian Songs in 2009.

It was #4 in the US iTunes Top 100 Christian Songs for 2010.

The David Crowder Band version of the song was a big hit that was nominated for a Dove Award in 2010.

It was #16 in the CCLI Top 25 Songs used by churches and ministries in the period between October 1, 2010 and March 31, 2011.

I have read comments about this song like this: “This song is starting a revolution. Simply singing it can change your heart. Continue singing it throughout your day and you find yourself intimately in God’s presence.”

No one seems to have a bad word to say about this song, except during a tempest-in-a-teapot controversy that arose over one line in the lyric that was deemed too “mushy” for worship music.

I am sure a lot more could be said about this song from its admirers. But as I stood in a megachurch in the suburbs of Chicago on Sunday listening to and trying, with difficulty, to sing this song for the first time, I was amazed at the violent sense of dislike and utter bewilderment I felt within me. “This may be the worst song I have ever heard in a Christian service!” I thought. And yet it formed the emotional peak of the “worship” gathering. The band was clearly into it. The audience, er, congregation seemed to enjoy it. The pastor (a decidedly un-flashy middle-aged Bible teaching minister in this church that has been a bastion of conservative evangelicalism over the years) could only say, “Wow!” as he came forward to speak after the song’s conclusion. He breathlessly tried to express how much the worship had moved him this day as he prepared to teach a hard message on serious discipleship.

My jaw may have actually dropped. Surely he was joking. I, for one, had found the song completely incomprehensible. I guess it was catchy but what the heck did it have to do with anything in this Sunday morning’s corporate worship?

The band had just led the congregation in the popular “worship” song, “How He Loves,” by John Mark McMillan.

Hey, I know — I’m way out of the loop when it comes to praise and worship music these days. This song is a couple of years old now, practically an antique. I’m sure some will wonder what all the fuss is about. After all, “How He Loves” has probably been a staple in churches long enough now that it seems like a quaint and comfortable old favorite to many. Believe it or not, I’m so separated from the evangelical consumer-industrial complex these days that this was the first time I’d heard it. Not impressed. In fact, it seems like almost every time I attend a service that uses praise and worship songs, I come away shaking my head over the degeneration of quality and content in our congregational repertoire of music.

So, here are the “awesome” lyrics to “How He Loves” –

He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

And oh, how He loves us so,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all

Yeah, He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves.
Yeah, He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves.

We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.
So Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss,*
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about, the way…

He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Oh how He loves.
Yeah, He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves.

*original version-“sloppy wet kiss”
© 2005 John Mark McMillan

Really?

This is the emotional high point and the song before the sermon in a serious Bible teaching church’s corporate worship service?

These are the words that worship leaders chose as the song of preparation before a serious sermon on discipleship from Romans 12 on how we as Christians must offer ourselves up as living sacrifices, not being conformed to our culture but being transformed by the renewing of our minds?

• First of all, the poetry is dreadful, almost incoherent.

• Second, the lyric is incredibly clumsy, almost unsingable.

• Third, the metaphors are strained and mixed to the point of utter confusion.

• Fourth, the only real “power” the song has is the continual repetition of the line, “How he loves [us]“ as the band builds intensity, à la a million other pop-rock songs.

• Fifth, it is individualistic to the point of being narcissistic, despite part of a verse that, inexplicably, is written in the plural. Whether one sings the controversial “sloppy wet kiss” line or not, this turns out to be just another song about “me and Jesus” and how he “meets me” in my experience without giving any context of the church, the Gospel, or the words of Scripture. It represents a perfect model of personal “spirituality without religion.”

If I were still a worship and music pastor, there is no way on earth I would allow this song to be sung in corporate worship, much less make it the focal point of the service!

Before you take up stones and start hurling them in my direction, let me say that I have been a follower of popular music long enough to recognize, on some level, the attraction of a song like this. I happen to like plenty of folk, pop, and rock songs with inane lyrics and bad poetry that try to say something profound through incomprehensible words. That’s almost a definition for most of Dylan’s catalog, isn’t it? (I remember when we used to all just sit around with this awed look on our faces and say, “Wow! Heavy.” We of course had no clue; it just sounded deep.)

The difference is, I can handle that with pop music or pieces from a singer-songwriter whose very job is to probe her inner self and write about what she is feeling with regard to the experiences of life. If I read the backstory correctly, this is what John Mark McMillen was doing in writing this song. No problem there, whatsoever. So let it be sung by the folkie pouring his heart out to an audience! But this little personal inspiration piece is simply not appropriate for the corporate worship of Christians who have gathered to celebrate the Gospel and hear God’s Word.

Please, please, friends in ministry! Someone start putting a foot down! Let congregational worship be what it should be and fill it with music befitting the God of heaven and earth. Pastors, do your job. Stop basing your decisions about music on the “Top 40″ model. Guard the corporate worship service and stop taking the easy way out, pandering to the tastes of audiences who want primarily to have their ears tickled while chills run up and down their spines.

Build congregations, not audiences.

Make disciples, not entertainment or emotional thrill seekers.

As with all areas of ministry, lead people toward maturity.

Treat worship music as another form of speaking and hearing God’s own Word.

Honor the music of the church by demanding quality and depth and artistic integrity.

Put your foot down.

I have been officiating funeral services since I was 22 years old, a young know-nothing pastor in the hills of Vermont.

My first funeral was for an infant who died of SIDS. That service was held on the coldest, rainiest and iciest day I can remember. Outside. At the cemetery. It was pure misery and falling tears, inside and out. I wrote a song in the child’s memory. I’m not sure if I ever sang it for the parents; it might have broken their hearts. I guess in the final analysis I wrote it for myself, as a way of trying somehow to express the desolation of laying a little boy in the ground.

And I have been doing funerals ever since.

That little church in Vermont was more like a parish church, which is true in many rural communities. In that village we had our share of elderly people who lived along the mountain roads, up and down the hills, along the brooks and in the hollers. We also had a good number of vacation homes in the area, some of which had been used by families for generations. Many of them who died had stated their wishes to be buried in our quaint graveyards where their tombstones would look out over the mountains to see the sun rise.

I won’t bore you with a litany of funeral stories, but suffice to say that I’ve done more services than I can remember. To this day, in my work as a hospice chaplain, I still find it one of the greatest privileges of ministry.

Stop and think about it. This is one of the most significant times in a family’s life. And, it is one of the few occasions in our culture when we actually face what we all fear most: death. The funeral is an event where folks expect the pastor to talk about God and life and death and hope and eternal matters. It is an opportunity for ministers to show people they care, that they are interested in hearing their stories, honoring their wishes, and commemorating the life of their deceased loved one. It provides an ideal reason for pastoral visitation and follow-up to give ongoing support to those who grieve. It is one of those situations where we can roll up our sleeves and have genuine, heart-to-heart conversations with people. Isn’t this why we went into ministry?

Why then do so many ministers have no clue about conducting funeral services for people?

Let me give you an example.

Awhile back, I attended a funeral service that was standing room only. The person who had died had a big family and a large number of friends and acquaintances. He was a veteran. For his career, he had served as public servant in several different capacities that involved a lot of dealings with people in the community. He belonged to fraternal and service organizations. He was laid to rest in a uniform and his casket was draped with an American flag. His family had cared for him over a long period of time through various illnesses and then in hospice care. He did not practice religion throughout his life, but during his illnesses he expressed faith and always gratefully accepted prayer and pastoral visits. The pictures on the display boards and in the DVD tribute that ran during the visitation showed a man who spent a lot of time with his family, who enjoyed life, who loved to laugh, and was something of a rascal as well.

Now, if that is all I knew about this man, I think I could put together a funeral service that would both honor him appropriately and bring Christian hope to his family and friends.

First, I would meet with the family to talk about the service. I would encourage them during our visit to tell stories and give anecdotes that would help me get to know him and what his life was like. I would suggest that, since they knew him best, it would be appropriate for their voice to be heard in the service. Would there be a family member who might like to speak or share something? If not, would they consider getting together and writing down some remembrances that I could read on their behalf?

I would also ask if they wanted any special tributes spoken by me or someone else about his military service, his careers in public service, his community involvement. Had he received any honors? What made him most proud? In addition, I would ask about his faith and what they knew about that and how we might bring that part of his life to bear on the service. Did he have favorite verses from the Bible? Might there be any music that would enhance the service?

After gathering as much information as I could by spending time personally with the family or someone who represented them, I would also think back about what they had been through when caring for this man. I would try to imagine what their long journey must have been like and how tired they must be now. I would attempt to envision what the future will be like for them without his presence.

Now—put all this in a pot together. Simmer over low heat with thought, prayer, and contemplation. Serve over 30-40 minutes in a funeral service marked by personal concern, family involvement, remembrance of the deceased’s life, words of comfort to those grieving, and proclamation of hope in Christ.

So, what kind of a funeral did this man get?

• The only personal touch in the entire service was when a song was sung that the family had chosen for the occasion.
• Oh yes, and the obituary was read, which summarized his family and work.
• No personal stories or remembrances of his life.
• No acknowledgment of his military service, his career in public service, his work in the community.
• No recognition of his family for all the support they had given him in the final season of his life.
• No words of sympathy for the mourners, no expressions of encouragement for the journey of grief to come.
• No acknowledgment of the large crowd that had gathered, even though this death obviously touched a lot of people.
• No reference to things he enjoyed doing in life or his love for his family.

Instead, the pastor (who was known to some of the family members)…

• Talked exclusively about one or two visits he had had with the dying man when he had asked him about his personal relationship with Christ.
• Gave assurance that the man was in heaven based on the answer to one question on one of those visits.
• Preached a full Bible study topical message on heaven, how we know it’s real, what it’s like, how we can go there, etc., quoting passage after passage from the Bible.
• Gave an invitation at the end to receive Christ during the final prayer.

I call that pastoral malpractice.

Not because it is wrong to talk about knowing Christ and going to heaven, but because it was done without any context, without any sense of pastoral sensitivity, involvement, and concern.

First of all, I can’t ever get over what a privilege it is to be asked by a family to mark the occasion of a loved one’s death. How can anyone possibly summarize a life of 60, 70, or 80+ years and what it means in a half hour service? I think the mere fact that someone made it through this world for that many years is something worthy of attention and awe.

This is one of the most profound events in the world, and I feel like Jacob every time I’m asked to mark the occasion—“‘Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it!’ And he was afraid, and said, ‘How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.’” (Gen. 28:16-17) A family and friends are saying “goodbye” to a loved one. This is death and the grave. This is the setting in which Jesus himself became overwhelmed and wept.

And a pastor can ignore all of that and not weep himself?

A pastor can fail to give “honor to whom honor is due” for accomplishments in life?

A pastor can forget to comfort the brokenhearted and give them encouragement for their ongoing journey of grief?

A pastor can be so blind to everything but the opportunity to possibly “win a few souls” that he fails to speak the words of salvation personally, in the real human context that is right in front of his face?

I am almost sure that when this pastor went home and his wife asked him how the funeral went, he praised God for the opportunity to preach the Gospel.

He may have used some of the right words. But as far as I’m concerned, he blew it. He missed one of the greatest opportunities ministry affords to be a neighbor, a pastor, a comforter, a friend.

A human being, for heaven’s sake!

Love God, love your neighbor. Is this really so hard to understand?

By Chaplain Mike

That wonderful old Christian satire magazine The Wittenberg Door used to have a regular feature called, “Truth Is Stranger than Fiction.” That would be an apt way to describe this story I came across today.

I couldn’t have made this up in a thousand years. And I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. No, come to think of it, hand me a Kleenex.

Here are the facts:

• A group in Colorado Springs (let us all pause and bow toward our new Mecca) wants to develop and produce a movie in a new genre that is apparently ripe for picking: a “Christian Sex Comedy.”

• Rich Praytor, co-producer and writer, is doing so because he admires the films of Judd Apatow so much. Apatow has graced us with such fine, thoughtful, edifying films such as “The 40 Year Old Virgin,” and “Knocked Up”—“secular” sex comedies.

• Now he wants to (and I quote), “take something like that into the Christian arena.”

• His movie, “The Waiting Game,” tells the story of a man who remains a virgin until his wedding day then struggles with abstinence after his bride-to-be dumps him at the altar.

• The big laugh of the movie apparently comes when the disheartened guy states his intention to give up on staying pure, telling a friend in a restaurant, “I’m so frustrated. You know what? I’m just going to do what I want to do anyways. It’s not like it’s going to wind up on the front page of the newspaper,” So, guess who overhears their conversation and says, “Hey Buddy, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”? Drum roll, please. Ted Haggard. Ha! I’ll bet Ted’s former parishioners will be rolling in the aisles laughing.

• The tagline for the movie? “Abstinence never felt SO good.”

• A comment by the movie’s promoters on the site’s Facebook page says, “We are still raising the money for this movie, but we are aiming for release in 2012–right in the middle of political season! We hope for it to add to the debate on family values and encourage the faithful to stay true to the word. So please keep praying for us.”

• You can watch the YouTube trailer here, if you dare.

• You can check out the film’s website here.

(Sigh.) Really?

Of all the ways Christians might “engage the culture” (oh, how I hate that phrase!), this is the best we can do?

Millions of dollars are going to be spent on this. Has anyone done a Kingdom cost-benefit analysis?

Could any example be clearer that today’s believers are “of” the world, but not “in” the world?

Is there no one out there willing to stand up and say “no” to ideas like this?

Are we all prepared to take another punch in gut from the world for our immaturity, tackiness, and the tin ear we have toward the words of our own Bible: “Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.”?

I’ll shut up now. By giving this movie a few moments of attention, I’ve done my part for the Evangelical-Political-Industrial complex today.

Pop culture is an insatiable beast, and it is swallowing American evangelicalism, one large bite at a time. I need to go listen to some Bach or something to try and make this bad dream go away.

By Chaplain Mike

UPDATE: I’m not sure if some of you did not read the post carefully or if I communicated poorly, but I want to clarify something. This post is NOT about music styles and what styles are better or worse. This post is ultimately about how today’s evangelical church has changed the definition of “church,” “pastor,” and “worship.” The so-called “Worship Wars” have been part of context for these changes, but they are not the real issue. If the comments continue to take the track they’ve taken, I will write a follow-up post and try to make myself perfectly clear.

I will admit it from the beginning: I’m on the losing side in the worship wars. As such, I feel a little like what I imagine a southerner who’s still fighting the civil war in his heart must feel, calling it “The War of Northern Aggression” and still clinging to the Confederate flag as a symbol of his rebel nation’s pride. When it comes to evangelical church culture in the United States, what we loosely call “contemporary” worship has won. Hands down. The score wasn’t even close, and it’s been over for years, decades in many places.

Oh, I know some of you will argue that there has been a publicized renewal of interest in the “ancient-future” path, a restoration of liturgy and a movement by some evangelicals back to mainline Protestant churches as well as Catholic and Orthodox traditions. Let’s not fool ourselves. This is a distinctly minority movement. Most evangelicals today know less about the history and traditions of worship than they did when I was in seminary in the 1980′s. And my highly respected evangelical seminary had never even had a class on worship before I attended!

The fact that a few of us have found a place to talk about worship here at Internet Monk merely confirms my position. It’s not being discussed in the churches in any terms other than who has written the new hot worship song and whether our band is better than the one over at Living Waters Church. To evangelicals, worship = music. And music = “praise and worship” music—from a stage, by a band, with projected words. It all follows certain rules, and with a few variations here and there, it has become the “liturgy” of the evangelical church.

And here I sit, having seceded from the evangelical Union, still whistling “Dixie.”

So, while waiting for the service to begin in my small Lutheran “word and table” congregation on Sunday, I had a discussion with a woman who identified herself not merely as a loser like me, but as a casualty of the worship wars. Confession time: this conversation set my blood a’boiling. I know I said awhile back that anger never helps, so I’ve waited until I got home, had some time to decompress, poured myself a glass of iced tea, and took a deep breath before beginning to type.

Still, I’m warning you—I’m going to rant here.

The woman I talked to today spent over 40 years of her life teaching music in public schools. She is gifted, experienced, knowledgeable, and loves to serve. I had not seen her in our services before, so my wife, who had met her, introduced me. Turns out she is at our church because she wants to sing in a choir. We are a small congregation but we have a talented choir director (also a teacher), some fine instrumentalists, and a good group of singers. She knew our director as a teaching colleague, and so decided to come and sing in our choir. And then…

And then she would return to her church later in the morning to attend their service too. They no longer have a choir, and won’t consider a choir ministry. She’s out of job. Without consulting her and others like her, the leaders simply determined choral ministry didn’t fit any longer. Not wanting to leave behind a church family she had been part of for many years, yet gifted and trained musically, she is now shuttling between congregations on Sunday morning, trying to have both.

Her church would be called a megachurch around here. It is part of the independent Christian Church denomination, which has a strong ethos of outreach and evangelism. Nothing wrong with that, but as I set forth in an earlier post, I might be tempted to call them more of a mission than a church. It’s all programs for all ages all the time, with huge facilities designed to attract the community and keep them busy. They are a family-friendly, full service Christian activity center. It perfectly represents white, middle-class American suburban culture, evangelical style.

Their “worship” is also defined by this ethos. It is a pragmatic, attractional, upbeat, performer/audience style program, the antithesis of the historical meaning of “liturgical” but just as highly scripted and consistent. Their church growth mentality has subsumed and thus changed the meaning of “worship.”

If the way we approach public “worship” services is based on a mindset of reaching out, then one principle determines everything: Know your audience. And the next step is: Conform what you do to attract that audience and satisfy them. Thus, if we are trying to reach young suburban families, then we adjust our “worship style” to suit their tastes and preferences and do things that will “speak” to them and keep them coming.

So, to get back to my friend, in her church, choirs are out. Singing hymns is out, except for the occasional contemporary adaptation. Style of music is limited to a narrow range of “praise band” tunes and sounds that may be folk-rock, light jazz, contemporary pop, alternative, or some such style that represents whatever church leaders and the high priests of the music ministry decide will have “impact.” In a lot of churches like hers, having people on the stage who are past their 30′s (with the possible exception of a pastor) is rare.

Apparently, these leaders assume there is no need to “reach” the older generations anymore. They must think they are already there. Except, in reality, they are not—I can’t tell you how many people from 50-80 years of age I visit every day as a chaplain who are not in church—what makes them any less important to reach than young families? And since many of today’s leaders grew up in the a-historical, non-traditional, nondenominational, “Bible only,” parachurch-influenced, children and youth-focused, pop-culture saturated churches of the past 30-40 years, they don’t know anything else. They know what they like. They know what other young people like them like. And the only thing they can imagine might possibly be better than what they like would be something even newer and more “cutting edge.”

So here’s a woman, immensely talented, gifted, and eager to serve, who has always delighted in using her musical expertise and ability to serve God and encourage the church, and there is simply no place for her in that role any longer in her congregation.

In corporate terms, the company has withdrawn support for her department, because it no longer contributes to the company’s revised business plan. The leadership has decided to go another direction. Her job was eliminated when the corporation restructured. She is collateral damage.

It really is as heartless as that. She told us the leaders said to her and others like her that decisions had been made, the style of the worship service was set, and if they did not like it, they should find another congregation.

This is how the church treats faithful, gifted people. Cutting edge? Or cut-throat?

So, here are the questions by which I rant against this anti-Christian way of treating people (yes, you read that correctly). Even if you don’t share my exact perspective on worship, these questions still apply:

Where is a proper understanding of the church? If the church is God’s family, made up of all different kinds of people, all ages, all generations, all backgrounds, all ethnic groups, all social classes, then why do we insist on this narrow, mission-focused emphasis targeting particular groups and building our ministries around them? The church growth ethos has completely overwhelmed the way church leaders approach ministry and I for one utterly reject it as in any way representing a sound NT ecclesiology.

If the church is a family, why do we tolerate practices that dishonor our elders? If the church is the Body of Christ, why do we restrict the gifts God has distributed and think we can retire some of the Body’s members? Who set an age limit for priests in the priesthood of all believers? If our God is a God of infinite variety and creativity, why are our imaginations so limited that we cannot figure out ways to include the contributions of others who may not fit into our narrow little models of “worship”?

I would argue that we ought to find ways that people of all ages could be included and represented in a variety of ways in our worship services. When people come to worship they ought to see the whole family of God in action. They should not see a group of people that fills a market niche. That includes children, teens, college age young people, singles and family members of all ages, and adults from every available generation. We ought to learn to appreciate music that reflects what has been spiritually meaningful to people down through the years, as well as learning new songs of praise. Our church leaders should be courageous to challenge their congregations to obey the Scriptures and “accept one another” in these matters. We ought to see people from all generations “up front” and involved in the public ministry of the church.

Programs and specific ways of doing things will change, but no one should be left behind in the name of pursuing the church’s mission.

Where is the creativity to find ways of including all people? Are you telling me that in a congregation of two or three thousand people, you couldn’t find some exciting ways to make use of a choir and other forms of more traditional music ministry? I’m not a big fan of split services, where some are traditional and others contemporary, so I don’t think that’s a long-term answer. I’ve got to believe with all our emphasis on “creativity” and “innovation” today, we could easily imagine ways to include the older folks and the ones who appreciate more traditional forms in our worship services and in other important ministries where their gifts could be honored and used.

Where is the courage to be counter-cultural? Last Friday’s post on the Epistle to Diognetus quoted a strong challenge to today’s church. “Christians are recognized when they are in the world, but their religion remains unseen,” its author wrote. It seems the evangelical approach in this culture is exactly the opposite. Our religion is recognized in the world, but we remain hidden. The attractional philosophy tries to make our religious services and practices enticing to our culture, while we fail to teach people how to actually live in the world day after day as followers of Christ.

You will find little, if anything, in the NT about attracting people to the faith through the gathered worship of the church. That is simply not what worship is about. Worship is an activity for God’s people. We should certainly be hospitable and welcoming to those who may come among us, but the NT church is not a “temple” designed to draw people in. The NT church is a community of people, who worship together and then scatter, in order to penetrate the world by fulfilling our various vocations in the world, testifying to the Good News face to face, person to person in all the contexts of daily life in the world.

Any gifted showman can attract a crowd. Any gifted program director can design and run an organization that will get and keep people involved in activities. It is being done all over the country. But who is forming the community in which Christ is central and spiritual roots sink deep, where people are being encouraged to have quiet hearts that pay attention to what God is doing, sensitive hearts that pick up on subtle signs that a brother or sister needs attention, thoughtful hearts devoted to study, meditation, prayer, and contemplation, hospitable hearts that welcome the neighbor and are open to the stranger? Who is encouraging the kind of worship that forms such hearts? Who is providing the grace and space, the otium sanctum—the holy leisure—the silence and intimate conversation by which they are formed?

Church leaders have traded their calling as pastors for jobs as showmen and program directors, and that is the essence of our culture, not counter-cultural. The people we are trying to win should be getting to know us, not our religion. But we wear our religion on our sleeves and hide ourselves from the world. We have rejected the kind of worship that would include someone like my friend because she’s of no use in the show anymore. She is like the aging Hollywood starlet who can’t find good roles because the producer thinks people won’t want to look at her wrinkles. She’s not marketable any longer. She has become an outmoded commodity, not a respected elder who can speak and sing and serve with credibility and gravitas in God’s family.

Where is the wisdom and love of Christ in relating to people? For my friend, years of involvement, friendship, and service in a local congregation were summarily dismissed in a single sentence: “This is the way things are now; if you don’t like it, you should find another church.”

Now, I am fully aware that I am only reflecting on her report, so don’t jump on me for that. I have heard enough similar stories over the years; have heard pastors themselves tell about such conversations, to conclude her report accurately represents what happened. Those who have won the worship wars are not going back to the way things were before, and they have little imagination for other possibilities. In their view, the “old ways” of my friend were ineffective in reaching the world for Christ back then, and they certainly wouldn’t be effective now. If we’ve learned anything, it is “change or die.” Besides (here comes the theological justification), isn’t the Holy Spirit always doing new things? Isn’t it our job as church leaders to spot the next good wave and catch it?

And I would say, no. No. No. Your “job” is to love God and love people. And if you are entrusted with leadership in God’s family, that includes paying attention to what God is doing in the lives of the specific people God has brought your way. Your job is to work with God to create an environment through which the Spirit can form Christ in them. That does not happen by “catching waves.” And it doesn’t happen by this or that particular program or method. It happens by listening, having conversations, and being with people in the context of their lives—”walking” with them through life. It happens through spiritual friendship which, multiplied, is community.

If you find you have to change something in the church that affects people, you work with them personally in a spirit of forbearance and patience. You don’t dismiss them. You don’t treat them like consumers who might just find the product they are looking for somewhere else. If you want a congregation full of ‘em—consumers that is—that’s the way to do it.

Before you complain that this post is one-sided, let me save you some trouble. I know that. I have been around awhile and have seen most every permutation of the “worship wars” since the mid-1970′s. I realize that churches did not always act with imagination and grace toward those who wanted to introduce contemporary music and other elements into the church’s worship. Certain traditionalists fought long and hard to resist change. In the process, they dismissed people with different views, and sometimes looked down on younger people and did not honor what God was doing in their lives. I’m sure it’s still going on in some persistent enclaves of resistance. At times older generations did not act Christianly, and I am not here to defend them. Even my friend, in the midst of our conversation, acknowledged that she has the responsibility to be forbearing of the changes in her church. She is trying, but I know from talking with her that she also feels she got slapped in the face. I hope she’s asking God to help her turn the other cheek.

But this is today and I am speaking to today; and I am speaking especially to church leaders and music directors and worship leaders. This is not ultimately about music styles or technology or architecture. It is not about choirs vs. praise bands. We can talk about all those things and never get the root of what’s going on here.  I am concerned that our ecclesiological foundations are being washed away in a tidal wave of capitulation to culture.

The bottom line for me involves what it means to be the church, what it means to be a pastor, and what it means for God’s people to gather for worship. Through the years of skirmishes and battles, I have tried to approach the worship wars and guide churches through them from those three perspectives. And my conversation with the woman in my church on Sunday brought all these issues to the fore for me again. Her testimony shows me that many evangelicals have forgotten what it means to be a church for everybody. Many of their pastors have perverted their callings into something other than pastoral ministry. And many have no clue at all regarding worship, who and what it’s for.

Lacking a rich Biblical, historical, and theological imagination, we have surrendered unwittingly to our culture and followed its lead in all three areas. I may be on the losing side of the worship wars, but it is the church that is truly losing, as well as a world that needs more than another place to entertain them and keep them busy.

In the short term, I’m not optimistic.

My reliable source for the culture war, prosperity gospel, and all things “trend-a-gelical” is The Christian Post. They call themselves “the nation’s most comprehensive Christian news website…delivering up-to-date news, information, and commentaries relevant to Christians across denominational lines.” Actually, most of the time it’s like walking into a bad Christian bookstore with mostly bargain book quality material.

Nevertheless, it keeps me informed about what’s happening in some of the main rings of the evangelical circus.

Exhibit A: today’s article about Joyce Meyer, with the tagline, “Charismatic televangelist and bestselling author Joyce Meyer on Thursday opened up about the death of her younger brother David as part of a message on the life of self-pity versus the life of diligence and faith.”

I usually don’t bother commenting on such prosperity gospel mavens as Meyer, but this message is such a glaring example of the false “American Gospel” and prosperity message of self-righteousness that I am making an exception.

In Thursday’s message at the C3 Conference at Fellowship Church in Dallas, Joyce Meyer got personal. She told the sad story of her brother, a Marine Corps veteran who became addicted to drugs and whose life turned into a series of bad choices spiraling down to a tragic death. His decomposed body was found after Christmas in an abandoned building after he had gone missing for thirty days. He left only a few meager personal effects.

My jaw dropped when I read her comment. She said, “My personal effects and his personal effects are sadly different. What are your personal effects going to be when your time here is up?” Apparently a person’s life DOES consist in the abundance of his possessions.

This contrast became the sum and substance of her message: what made her life different from her brother’s?

Her text was John 5, the story of the paralyzed man at the Pool of Bethesda whom Jesus healed. When Jesus asked the man if he wanted to be healed, he responded with self-pity, complaining, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” (5:7) For thirty-eight years, the man had laid there without being healed.

Joyce Meyer likened this to what her brother did. “He (David) just wanted to lay by the pool another year, feel sorry for himself, blame somebody and remain crippled.”

Even though Meyer herself experienced sexual abuse at the hands of her father and had a difficult childhood, she chose another direction. Even though the crippled man in the gospel story couldn’t move much, Meyer suggested he could have at least wiggled to the edge of the pool. Applying this to herself, she testified, “I got tired of laying by the pool and I decided to wiggle.”

So, this is the application: “I think sometimes God has a miracle for people but he sees if they’re going to wiggle first,” she said. “Next time you’re having a pity party and want to give up, I hope the Holy Ghost whispers in your ear, wiggle!” Or, as the Christian Post summarizes the point of her talk: “it’s up to the person’s determination to follow God’s plan, not his circumstances, that allow him to reap God’s promises.”

And finally, the inevitable prosperity gospel mantra: “God operates on the seed principle of faith, Meyer pointed out. No matter how pathetic the attempt is, if we try our best then God will bless us, she said.”

Return of the Prodigal, Sorley

This is classic. So classic.

First, draw a stark dramatic contrast that captures the audience’s emotions and defines the “winners” and “losers.” On the one hand you have Joyce Meyer’s brother, who made an absolute mess of his life (read her message for details—and believe me, they are gory), and met the most tragic, dreadful end imaginable. LOSER. On the other hand, you have the hero—Ms. Meyer herself—world-renowned preacher and wealthy, happy Christian celebrity, with millions of books sold and TV programs broadcast all over the world, who overcame the worst odds and achieved the greatest success. WINNER.

Second, find a Biblical story that has a line or two that seems to apply and which confirms your point and your audience’s prejudices. The only line in the Gospel story that seems to apply at all to Meyer’s personal narrative is the complaint uttered by the paralytic. And she interprets it in remarkably American “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” terms. You see, this man’s problem was not that he was paralyzed, but rather that he was expecting others to help him rather than try to help himself. And so he just laid there (for 38 years!) griping and complaining.

[Joyce! I want to shout. The man was paralyzed! He DID need someone to help him! Maybe it's even part of the story's lesson that a man like that could lie near the Temple for years without receiving any help.]

Meanwhile, the audience is nodding and agreeing. We all know people like that lazy paralytic! Won’t move a muscle to help themselves!

Question: Where’s the grief over Joyce Meyer’s brother’s death? If that happened to my brother, I would be devastated; probably so profoundly saddened by it that I couldn’t speak. Instead, less than two months after her brother was found, we not only get a profusion of words, we get a message that roundly condemns him for his wasted life and needless death. Condemnation! You can’t call it anything else. The big brother of Jesus’ Prodigal Son parable apparently has a sister.

Third, leave the Biblical story altogether and make your own point, condemning the sinner and exalting the righteous. Somehow Meyer introduces the idea that this man had the capacity to at least “wiggle” himself over to the water by himself, but he refused to do it. Would you be surprised if I told you that is nowhere in the text? No, I’m not surprised either. Because this is not about understanding and living in the Biblical story, this is about making my story the most important thing, and forcing everything to fit to that. This is about taking the place of the Pharisee and saying, “Look at me. I did it right. But not him. He blew it when he had the chance. See here, the results prove it. Thank God I’m not like him!”

Fourth, drive home your point and motivate your audience to pursue this self-righteousness by trying harder, doing more, giving more. If you read the Gospel story, you don’t read anything about the paralytic’s faith, determination, willingness to “wiggle,” or any such thing. He simply utters his sad story, then Jesus takes over completely and says, “Get up and walk!” And the man does! This is not about making the right choices, being determined to lay hold of God’s blessing, or any such thing. It’s about Jesus and his power to heal with sovereign, loving grace, period.

But Joyce Meyer and those who preach the bad news of self-righteousness are not interested in Jesus. They only care about disseminating the great American dogmas of personal effort, positive thinking, and opulent prosperity. They care only about condemning those who won’t “wiggle” when they should be trying to pull themselves up out of the mire. Through our faith and determination, we have become winners, they proclaim. You can become winners too, if you’ll just get off your butts and do something to get God’s attention.

This is most definitely NOT good news in the spiritual sense. It has nothing to do with Biblical Christianity. It serves only to enrich the prosperity preachers and enslave the audience in legalistic and moralistic self-righteousness. It is Christ-less, grace-less, hopeless “Christianity.”

In contrast, Jesus announced, “Blessed are the poor in spirit”—the ones who have nothing to offer, who are spiritually bankrupt, who have no “wiggle” whatsoever in them. They have no “seeds of faith” to plant. They are the helpless ones, who have no resources whatsoever. They are the prisoners who can do nothing to set themselves free, the incurably blind, the lame who cannot move move a muscle to get into the pool when the angel stirs the waters. The message of self-righteousness has nothing to offer these people—who by the way represent all of us, you and me, and everyone who walks the face of the earth.

Joyce Meyer has disrespected the dead and done a disservice to the living with this message. Let us call it what it is—bad news of self-righteousness.

Shame on Christian Post and anyone else who promotes it.

If you are up to your backside in credit card debt, Dave Ramsey may have some advice for you that may help you get out of debt.

If your marriage is in trouble, going to a seminar like “I Want A New Marriage” may offer you some advice that could encourage one or both of you.

If you need to lose weight, eating a healthy diet of fruits and vegetables such as Daniel ate could probably help you shed pounds.

There. Happy?

Jesus did not come to offer us advice on how to live a good life. He is not Emmanuel—God with us—so we could become success stories in this life. Jesus came to die in order to break the power of sin and death. The way to life is now open to us, but we can only enter through the death of Jesus, and we can only live again (be born again) through his resurrection.

Do I believe Jesus cares about your marriage, your financial situation, your physical health? Only in this way: He wants you to die to it all.

So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well (Matthew 6:31-33 NIV)

Seek first his kingdom. His kingdom can only be entered by death: Jesus’ death, and then our receiving Jesus’ death as our death as well. Each day we must receive his death. Each day we must take up our cross and join Jesus in being dead. Only what is dead can be raised to life.

But if you don’t trust Jesus to live his resurrected life through you in a way that will bring glory to God, if instead you believe you can do it better by chasing after self-help books, CDs, seminars, radio programs, etc., then have at it. Buy them all and keep our economy spinning. On the other hand, if you are starting from a place of death and resurrection, and from this you find something in what Dave Ramsey says to fit with the life Jesus is now living in you, great! Put it to practice. If in this resurrected life you hear Rick Warren say something that encourages you to live a more healthy lifestyle, that is awesome. And if a marriage sermon in your church helps you and your spouse to love each other more, well, that is beyond awesome.

Just remember this. Jesus did not come to just welcome the fiscally sound, the physically fit, and those with rollicking marriages. He opened the door for the losers of this world. In Heaven you will be standing next to those who died in debt, those who weighed more than a VW Beetle, and those who were married and divorced and married and divorced and …

If you are striving to be a winner in this world, I would avoid Jesus if I were you. He wants you to lose. Lose your life, lose your hold on doing things your own way. But if you are willing to be a loser, then (here is where you expect me to say, “You’ll find you are one of life’s winners!” Sorry. Keep reading.) you’ll find great company. Most of the men and women we read about in Scripture were grand losers in the eyes of the world.

Ok. I’m done. Take it for what it’s worth. If you and your church want to have small groups every night of the week to deal with financial, marital, physical and who-knows-what-all challenges, go for it. You’ll no doubt attract a large crowd. As for me, you’ll know where to find me. Look for that small, rundown church that is barely making it, but each Sunday they do one thing: They preach Jesus Christ crucified.

That is the only life for me.

Warning: I am going to rant. I am going to rant and rave and basically have a fit. If you want something more fun and entertaining, I suggest you check out these amusing Nancy and Sluggo covers. Otherwise, proceed at your own risk.

Passion for your house has consumed me, and the insults of those who insult you have fallen on me (Psalm 69:9 NLT).

I am, on the whole, a fairly easy person to get along with. I don’t get too worked up about things–or, at least, I try not to. But this week I’ve had it. I have had it with stuff I have been hearing and reading, and I just don’t care to be nice about it any more. This site has called people out since almost day one, and we have no intent on changing that. Michael Spencer wrote about Joel Osteen’s “gospel” in this manner:

As much as I would like to join those who say that Osteen is a simpleton who doesn’t know what he’s doing, a close examination will show that at every point where there is a choice between being part of the church or departing into heresy, Osteen sticks with the church where there is money to be had and departs from the church where there is a faith to be confessed. He could be called a heretic by some, even if he is a believer, and he communicates a purposefully false trivialization of the person and work of Jesus Christ in favor of a man-centered motivational message of self-improvement.

Again, as I’ve said before, every evangelical leader needs to personally and by name repudiate and separate from Osteen, and call upon him and his followers to come back into the faith that is articulated in the Apostle’s Creed.

Michael continued in a different post about Osteen,

Make no mistake about this: Osteen isn’t confused about Jesus like many of the prosperity preachers you hear on TBN. Osteen is intentionally avoiding irrtiating language about sin because he wants to keep it positive every week. He is not just avoiding mentioning Jesus, the cross and the Gospel just because he is seeker sensitive. Joel Osteen is preaching the no-Gospel, no-Jesus message because it’s filling the church with thousands of people who want to hear it. Osteen will ignore his critics because the common people are voting every week—in book sales, ratings numbers and attendance- for his message.

So it is the foundation of this site to not only lift up Jesus, but to call out those who relegate Jesus to a logo for their products. Chaplain Mike did so a few weeks ago when he called Ken Hamm’s plans to build a creationist theme park the “Disney–ization of our faith.” We will continue to do so as the occasions present themselves.

Well, they have presented themselves in spades to me these past few days.

First of all, I love those in my life group. I have been a part of a specific life group—or small group—through my church for at least five years now. I have walked through a lot of messy stuff with these good people. I love them as my brothers and sisters. So when I say I don’t know how I will be able to attend for the next dozen weeks, I say it with intense sadness. But they decided we would start the year by going through Dave Ramsey’s Financial Peace University. I “attended” this “university” six or seven years ago, and came away saying I disagreed with 85% of what he teaches. After lesson one last night, I think I am up to disagreeing with 98% of what he teaches. And not only what he teaches, but where it is taught.

I tried to listen last night. Admittedly, I went in with guns loaded and cocked, and I was not disappointed. Ramsey, in case you don’t know, teaches his “students” how to get out of debt, cut up their credit cards, store up money for emergencies, and build wealth. There is not a thing wrong with any of this on the surface. But—BUT—should it be taught in church? Do we gather together as a family of faith—whether in a large church setting or a small group setting—in order to learn techniques for getting out of debt? As I listened to Ramsey last night, two things struck me. First, any so-called credit counselor could teach what he teaches (and I am not ready to concede what he teaches is sound fiscal planning; but that is another discussion), be they Christian, Hindu, Muslim, Druid or atheist. Which brings up the second thing: Jesus was mentioned twice by Ramsey, a self-confessed Christian, both times as part of his brand of humor. Yet this is being presented in our churches. And that should tell you a lot.

Rant? I’m justing getting started.

I read where Rick Warren of The Purpose-Driven Life fame wants to lose weight. Bully for him. So do I. Once you get north of 50, you can just think about a slice of cake and gain a pound. But here is how Warren plans to lose his goal of 90 pounds: He will do it as part of a year-long health-and-fitness program at the church he pastors, Saddleback Church, in Southern California. It’s a plan developed by Dr. Mehmet Oz, author of You: The Owner’s Manual. Warren and others in the church will participate in the Daniel Plan, so named for the prophet Daniel. Oh, didn’t you know that Daniel came up with a diet plan? You didn’t? Neither did I. And neither did Daniel.

(And yes, there is a difference between a weight-loss program promoted through your church and what Damaris called for last week—the preaching of gluttony as a sin. The Daniel Plan is not going to call anyone a sinner for eating an entire crock-pot of barbecue weenies now, is it?)

The Daniel Plan: God’s Prescription For Your Health. That is what they are calling it. God’s prescription for your health. Holy freaking cow. I … I … allow me one more, ok?

My daughters and their husbands both attend the largest church in Tulsa, a 15,000 (give or take a thousand) member megachurch with flashing lights, smoke machines, and “ushers” who stand guard at the doors to keep parents from taking any children under the age of two into the auditorium. (I refuse to call it a sanctuary.) My oldest called me today—I had suggested she and I go to Dallas on Saturday. I have been missing her and just wanted to spend some time with her, and she likes to shop down there. She couldn’t this weekend, partly because of the new series they are starting at her church: “I Want A New Marriage.” No doubt accompanied by Huey Lewis and the News singing a remake of “I Want A New Drug.” (And I’m not kidding. At their annual Christmas spectacular this last year they worked in Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” complete with zombies. You read that right. How God is holding back his wrath over our whole city on that one is beyond me.)

So, just what is wrong with getting out of debt, losing some pounds, and improving your marriage? Well, nothing. And yet, everything. It is the no-Gospel, no-Jesus message Michael Spencer saw Osteen preaching. It is effective. It will fill a church building with people with money to spend on books and CDs and DVDs all day long. But it has nothing to do with the Gospel. Nothing.

Not long ago I was reading an ad for a new church that was opening in Tulsa. (They pop up around here like loan sharks on payday.) “Are you stuck in a dead-end career? Do you need help parenting your children? Is your marriage in need of a recharge?”

“What kind of crap is this?” I asked. Someone asked me, “Don’t you think Jesus wants us to have better marriages?” I thought for a minute and then said, “No. No, I don’t think he really cares one way or another whether we have better marriages or not. I don’t think he is concerned about us being better parents or getting promoted at work. No, I definitely think these are things that matter not in the least to him.”

You can probably understand why I’m not exactly at the top of the list for guest preachers any longer.

Let me just say this straight out. If all you are interested in is becoming is a better person, then Jesus is not your best avenue to get there. You can find lots of self-help books—and in Christian bookstores without embarrassing references to Jesus to worry about—that deal with marriage, health, finances and life-issues you find yourself dealing with. They are piled high on tables leading into the temple. As a matter of fact, you can buy them in many temples every Sunday, credit cards accepted.

Jesus is not a self-help guru. He is not interested in you becoming a better person. He could not care less with you improving in any area of your life. Because in the end that is your life. Yours. And he demands you give it to him. All of it. An unconditional surrender. He did not come to improve you, or encourage you, or spur you on to bigger and better things. He came to raise the dead. And if you insist on living, then you’re on your own. Good luck. Sign up for all the seminars, workshops and marriage improvement weekends that you can, because you’re going to need them.

The Gospel is this: We are dead in our sins. Jesus, too, is dead in our sins. But because he is very God of very God, death could not hold him. He conquered sin and death and rose again. And the only life we are now offered is the life he lives in us. Period. He wants us dead. He’ll do the rest.

How many churches are preaching that these days? How many signs do you see in front of churches inviting you to “Come and die with us”? Joel Osteen didn’t need to buy an NBA arena because he is encouraging his followers to die daily now, did he?

Here is a challenge for you. Go into your local Christian bookstore and ask for the book Chaplain Mike has been highlighting this week, Why Jesus by William Willimon. I’ll bet there are fewer than twenty religious stores that stock that book on their shelves. Or Robert Capon. Ask them for anything Capon has written and watch them scratch their heads. But Osteen? Ramsey? Rick Warren? Stacked deep to sell cheap.

Jesus did not attract a huge following, simply because he refused to play the religious games of his day. As a matter of fact, he went out of his way to make the religious professionals hacked at him. And he also turned on those who followed him simply for what they could get. “You want to follow me? Hate your spouse, your kids, your extended family. Hate them.” “Oh, you like the food I provided for you? Want some more? Eat my flesh and drink my blood.” Not exactly the kind of thing to say in order to build your ministry now, is it? No wonder Dave Ramsey doesn’t quote Jesus.

So, if you want to know how to budget your money and get out of debt, find a church presenting Ramsey’s Financial Peace University. If you need a new marriage, there is a church in Tulsa that will show you how to get it starting this weekend. Need to lose some of that weight you added over the holidays? Follow the Daniel Plan. I suggest you avoid churches like The Oaks in Middletown, Ohio. All they do is sing and preach and eat Jesus. All they do is show you the way to die daily.

And who wants to do that?