Shaking Hands with the Happy Clappy Church
Worship is the new Pentecostal hairdo- the bigger, the better and apparently the more spiritual. While the other churches I’ve visited this year had one or two people on microphones for the song service, this church had five. Two men and three woman stood on the edge of the stage performing like it was the semi-finals of America’s Who’s Got Talent. I was intrigued to see that they had built an enclosed cage for the drummer. I thought it was probably needed to mute the clanging cymbals in the acoustically challenged room, but when I saw that the drummer actually looked like Animal from the Muppet Show, I wondered if the box was for safety reasons.
The Worship Leader told us all to stand and to raise our hands. I don’t mind standing up with the rest of a crowd, whether it is to see the football field or the quintet on stage, but I’ll be darned if I am going to be directed at how and when to worship God like we are playing Simon Sez. I will fold my hands, close my eyes, jump up and down and fall to my knees, but I want to do these things when they are authentic physical responses to what I am sensing spiritually. Just raising my hands because everyone else is seems like going through the hand motions.
When the songs were over the worship leader directed us to sit down. I think he’d seen right over the crowd to my disobedience. “Do we have any visitors today? If so, would you please raise your right hand?” I complied. “Thank you!” he continued. “Now if you’d like a visitor’s packet, please raise your left hand.” I slowly and very begrudgingly raised my other hand. I’d been beaten by a better man.
It was missions emphasis Sunday at this Assembly of God church just down the street from my home. This week, and next, instead of regular service programming the focus shifts to the work being done by this church denomination outside of the US borders. The offering special (meaning the music being performed on stage while the offering bags are passed row by row) was performed by a group of refugee women in their native clothing. It was different, and entertaining. I saw several people nod to each other as if to say, “Isn’t that special?!” but a few of the older crowd didn’t look too impressed.
The pastor introduced one of the refugee men, who gave up his native dress for a Men’s Warehouse suit. He tried to share his story with an abundance of English words, but it was hard to track all his thoughts. What he very effectively communicated, however, was how difficult it was to live in a refugee camp with his family for almost a decade. He was gracious to God for getting them through that time; gracious for all the blessings they were experiencing in America now, and very thankful to have found a church family. Any church in any neighborhood in America would be a blessing for this man. I am glad he and his family made it.
There was an awkward dance on stage as the pastor tried to move in to take over the microphone, and moved back when the refugee man raised his voice or quickened his speech. It is an old Jimmy Swaggart trick that this man has picked up without being in the denomination very long. Finally the pastor moved in, took control over the mic without breaking from his smile, and moved on to introducing the next guest speaker.
There were great missionary stories all morning long. At the end, the pastor asked for everyone to grab a pledge card before they went home. Next week they will collect them to see how much money has been promised to missions over the next 12 months. The Assemblies of God churches make missions one of their major emphases. They have a giving program for the little kids church (bringing their change to buy Bibles for other countries), to the youth department (buying vehicles for missionaries), and then the adults fund the rest. 95% of the donations given to missions in the AofG denomination go straight to the field. They have one of the lowest overheads for a non-profit group.
There are aspects of this style of church that come across as disingenuous to me. But it is the style that get’s on my nerves, not the people. I liked them and they were kind to me. I need to remember that.
