Monday, February 28, 2011

Week 9 – Evangelical Covenant Church

This Week it got Personal

ECC I didn’t want to go to church when I woke up Sunday morning. I had that same feeling about my church visitation project that many people do about attending church services—it seemed more of an obligation than it did an opportunity.

There are three churches a half mile down the road from me, so I figured I could stay in bed a few minutes longer before hitting the shower and getting to one of them on time, but after I’d hit the snooze button a couple of more times, my margin was erased. I hurried through my bathroom chores, threw on a shirt, and grabbed a cup of strong coffee as I ran out the door.

I had already missed the start time of a couple of the church services, and I really didn’t want to be late, so I decided to go to the one who advertised their service starting at 10:35. Why would a church start five minutes past the half hour? It doesn’t make sense to me, but I was glad that I could pull into the parking lot at 10:34 and not miss anything. They didn’t actually get started until 10:42, but I digress.

My neighborhood church visit of the week is at an Evangelical Covenant Church, of which I am unfamiliar with. I found this description on their website:

The Evangelical Covenant Church is a rapidly growing multiethnic denomination in the United States and Canada with ministries on five continents of the world. Founded in 1885 by Swedish immigrants, the ECC values the Bible as the word of God, the gift of God’s grace and ever-deepening spiritual life that comes through a faith with Jesus Christ, the importance of extending God’s love and compassion to a hurting world, and the strength that comes from unity within diversity.

The Evangelical Covenant Church is:

  • Evangelical, but not exclusive
  • Biblical, but not doctrinaire
  • Traditional, but not rigid
  • Congregational, but not independent

I like Swedes, I like Swedish Fish, and I like this description of what the denomination stands for.

The church meets in a school chapel and has pews and stained glass as part of their built-in culture. They have to use their portable sound system though, so the worship band sounds like they’ve set up in a movie theater without taking advantage of the room’s surround sound speakers.

I realize I’m in critique mode, which isn’t where I want to be. I’m here to get to know my neighbors, to see how they worship, to see if there is common ground to connect with them. The first worship song ends and there is an uncomfortable pause. The worship leader tells us he didn’t plan the transition between songs very well and he has to retune his guitar. His honesty makes the moment real. The drummer spoke into his mic to lighten the moment, “Ok, so three guys walk into a church…” We all laugh. The band starts the next song. I begin to relax.

They play the hymn, “Be Thou My Vision” and the second verse penetrates my defenses.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

I’m here for me this morning- not the project, not for my neighbors, but for me. My heart feels drawn to the flame and I know I’m vulnerable.

I look three rows in front of me and recognize the style of purse one woman is holding. It looks Asian and familiar to some of the regions where I’ve traveled as a missionary. I look up and recognize the back of this woman’s head. It startles me. I thought this woman was on the other side of the world and instead she is in a mid-sized church just half a mile from my home. I move forward to greet her at the appropriate time of the service. She tells me this is her church home when she is in the States, which is just twice a year. The timing is not lost on me. We have lots we need to say to each other but I know it needs to wait until the service is over.

The message is the kind I appreciate. The pastor uses the scripture, but does his best to present it in context. Instead of experiencing a religious leader trying to get me to understand God the way that he does, and using Biblical passages to support his views, I felt like this pastor was helping connect me with God and embrace the fullness of life that is available walking in relationship with Him and each other. Here is what spoke to me.

Jesus said (in Matthew 5:21) “you have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” The pastor suggests (as does the footnote in my Bible) that Jesus was referring to Leviticus 19:18,

Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself. I am the LORD.

Unfortunately the emphasis that the Israelites put on that commandment was “among your people” which meant it was a good idea to show forgiveness towards someone else in your own family, culture, or religion, but those outside those boundaries it was okay to hate. Jesus corrects the misinterpretation, suggesting that, no, the point of that command was not seeking revenge or bearing a grudge against anyone.

Which includes the missionary sitting three rows in front of me. I had been holding a grudge against her and thinking I was justified in doing it because I had defined her as being outside my “people.” I’m wondering if she’s listening to the same message that I am. I’m wondering if this Sunday is for her too.

When it comes time for communion at the end of the message, instead of moving forward towards the pastor, she made her way back to my pew. She touched my shoulder and said, “I’ll show you how we celebrate communion here,” and we went forward together. We partook of the brokenness of Christ; we drank in His life.

We took the time after the service to verbalize the forgiveness that had taken place in each of us. Years of misunderstanding just didn’t weigh anything any longer. It felt great to shrug it off and let it go.

This was one of four connections I had in this church on Sunday—two were with new friends; one was from someone who approached me and explained that I’d made a big difference in his life with a message I’d preached years before—similar to my own experience this morning.

As I drove home I considered what would have happened if I’d missed the service at the ECC church this morning. I felt that old guilt creeping back that takes the beauty of a spiritual life and condenses it to cold commandments and rules. And here is what I felt whispered in my spirit as I turned back into my driveway. I don’t think I could have missed God this morning in my neighborhood. It might have been a different hymn, church service, denomination, or even running into a different religious leader that I had disunity with—the reality is, God dwells in this neighborhood with His kids, and He is teaching us—He is teaching me—what it means to be His family.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Week 9 Preview - The Limitation of Google Maps

google_search When I made my list of the 50 closest religious institutions near my home I used Google Maps as my research tool. I searched for “my city” and the word “churches” and was pleasantly surprised at the results- a map full of red dots and advertising pins. I centered the map on my neighborhood and zoomed in until there were around 50 results. My concern was that by searching for the word ‘churches’ I might miss out on the temples, mosques, centers, etc. Thankfully Google interpreted my request in the broad sense I intended and included those religions’ meeting locations as well.

I also thought I might miss out on some of the smaller religious gatherings such as home-based cell groups happening in my neighborhood. Interestingly enough, some of those have made their presence known to Google and can also be found online.

What I was surprised to find was that some of the local churches didn’t have a red dot. I didn’t realize this until I drove down the street and saw a couple of buildings that I know have weekend church services inside, but hadn’t made my list. I guess this makes sense- I doubt the Amish make it a big priority to keep up with search engine placement.

Not all churches these days meet in church buildings. Especially when church plants are getting started they may not be able to have their own building. Many meet in school gymnasiums or auditoriums, movie theaters, and hotel conference rooms. Often these young churches are on the move often during their pioneering stages and don’t sink down neighborhood roots until they become larger and more established.

This week I added two local churches to my list. The first is an Evangelical Covenant Church that meets in a nearby school. I found them after seeing their sign in the school parking lot that they are only allowed to put up on Sundays. The other I added is a Church of God of Prophecy. Maybe Google excluded them because they had one too many ‘of’s in their title.

I plan to go to one of these two churches this weekend.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Week 8 – Foursquare

foresquare Their website told me to expect 400 people. There were only about one fourth of the promised amount on the morning I showed up. There is nothing wrong with a church of 100 people. It is four times the size of some churches I’ve already visited this year. But a church of 100 doesn’t feel very genuine when they are still pretending to be a church of 400.

This church is trying really hard. The greeter at the front door had on a used car salesman’s face. “What’s it going to take to get you inside the doors of this church?” he grin said as he pressed the flesh. He purposefully altered his statements to each person, as if being relevant was more important than knowing people’s names. When he tried to fist-bump to an 11 year-old girl I could almost hear the Black Eyed Peas lyrics through her wordless stare – “I’m so 3008, you so 2000 and late.”

Not wanting to be late myself for the service I moved quickly through the foyer and found a seat in the sanctuary. The worship band began playing modern-styled worship songs, but I wasn’t familiar with any of them. When the band stopped playing so they could give the congregation a chance to hear themselves, I could detect no vocals. People were just lip synching with the band—no one else was hitting the high notes or singing from their diaphragms.

The band was good though. They had a sax player that seriously belongs in an upscale blues bar. The female vocalist sounded like the British singer Adele, belting out Chasing Pavements. When the song was over I wanted to clap, but the pastor, who was playing lead guitar, told us we needed to clap “for Jesus.” We all obeyed, but I wasn’t sure why we were clapping for Jesus when he was neither playing nor singing in the band. I get the whole “deflect any glory that would be given to us and give it to you, Lord!” but honestly it’s pretty weird. We had to stop after every song and either pray or give a “clap offering to Jesus.” I’m not so sure that Jesus is the glory-hoard that we make him out to be. If he was listening to the same song service I was I bet he would be happy to clap for the sax player and vocalist too. I think God is delighted in us the same way I am when I see my kids doing well. I’ve never once tried to take credit for the touchdown catch my son made, or been upset at him for not pointing to me in the stands after scoring.

The service did make me want to pray—especially this, “God, please bless Pastor Alex. He really needs it.” This minister did everything on Sunday morning: he was the worship leader, he gave the announcements, he led prayer for the offering, and then gave the message. I think he is so used to having to run things on his own that he would even fill in the empty blanks he’d insert into a sentence to try to get audience participation.

“Jesus said he is the Way, the Truth and the what?” he’d ask, giving a half second pause, “Life! That’s right!” Not giving us a chance to buzz in and say, “What is Life, Alex?”

I know this pastor meant well. It must be hard when your expectation for what successful ministry looks like isn’t matching what you see in front of you, especially if it is what you’ve had in the past. I gathered that his church had once been larger, with several different successful ministries, and now they were in a “rebuilding period” as several people pointed out. Even Alex mentioned it, in sort of an ashamed voice from the pulpit. I caught up with some friends right after the service and they apologized to me for their church, thinking that I would compare it to experiences of my own. Size isn’t everything, but many pastors fear it is.

This church is scrambling—scrambling for winter camp drivers, youth staff, Sunday school workers, and nursery helpers. They were trying to recruit people into the spiritual disciples of fasting and prayer that week too. While they were dealing with their inadequacy the pastor was too busy to great me after the service. I think he had to go make coffee in the reception lounge for potential visitors.

I don’t think I experienced much of what the Foresquare denomination is really about. What I did recognize is that I have some hurting and exhausted church-goers right here in my own neighborhood. I left wondering what I could do to help Alex – not by working in the nursery for him, but by helping him step back from the edge and just breathe.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Week 8 Preview – Check in at Foursquare

brighton-foursquare1 Before the location-based social networking application allowed friends to publicly share where they were hanging out from their phones, the term Four Square was known as a playground game on elementary school courtyards. It is also the name of a church denomination started by a woman named Aimee Semple McPherson in 1927 in Los Angeles. I have a Foursquare church in my neighborhood.

Sister Aimee, as she was known, coined the term “Foursquare Gospel” during an evangelistic outreach in California. To her it represented an equally balanced expression of the four-fold ministry of Jesus:

  1. as Savior
  2. as Baptizer with the Holy Spirit
  3. as Healer
  4. and as the coming King

This denomination likes 4’s. Their strategy for accomplishing their church planting vision is as follows:

  1. Pioneer
  2. Establish
  3. Empower
  4. Send

Their website is divided into four segments:

  1. I’m new to Foursquare
  2. I want to get involved
  3. I’m a foursquare leader
  4. I’m looking for leadership tools

They believe that biblical truth meets people in four main segments:

  1. Salvation
  2. Christian Walk
  3. The Spirit-filled Life
  4. The Afterlife

The Foursquare church in my neighborhood (who list their membership at 400) lists four ways to start a relationship with Jesus:

  1. Start Reading the Bible
  2. Get Water Baptized
  3. Connect with others at their church
  4. Begin to journal.

I’ve got the 1, 2, and 4th covered. This weekend, I’ll hit number 3, connecting with others in their fellowship.

Here’s a video that the Foursquare denomination has prepared for their first time visitors.

Have you ever visited a Foursquare church?

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Week 7 – Islamic Mosque

mosque My decision to go to an Islamic Mosque on the same day as Egypt’s revolution left me with very little preparation time. I had planned to do more research on Islam so I’d know what to expect—again, I find that my preconceived ideas about Muslims and their faith have been formed from TV programs, movies, and what I’ve been taught in my Christian Sunday School class.

I felt vulnerable walking into this very different place of worship. Some of my friends would suggest that I was opening myself up to demonic attack by simply walking into a building that had been built to honor Allah. I’m more secure in my faith than that, and am not worried that the Holy Spirit will depart me just because I am daring to meet the Muslims in my neighborhood on their turf. I didn’t feel afraid, just out of my element.

There was a big sign on the front door reminding people to turn off their phones, which I was quick to do. There was no message about taking off your shoes, but seeing all of the footwear stacked in the shelves outside, I got down to my socks as well- glad that I’d worn a pair with no holes in them.

The man behind the desk told me that I was welcome. I told him this was my first visit and just wanted to observe. He assured me this was okay so I walked down the hall to where the men were gathering. The women were assembling in a room on the other side of the building.

I was 10 minutes early and many of the men were already in prayer. They would go from sitting cross-legged on the ground, to standing, down to their knees, and then press their foreheads to the carpet. It was a very clean room, but I couldn’t help but notice the smell of men’s bare and stocking feet; I was glad that I wasn’t prostrating myself to the floor with them. No doubt some of what I smelled were my own feet.

Some things are very different in a Mosque than in the typical Christian Churches that I’m used to—there were no visitor cards, no bulletin, no offering plates, and no worship team. Some things were very similar—the message was on giving.

I learned quite a bit about Zakat, the third pillar of Islam, which is about compulsory charity. A Muslim in good standing is required to give a portion (a literal percentage) of his excess to those who are in need. This is the Muslim’s religious answer to social justice in their communities. To be selfish, to be hypocritical, to not honor Allah for providing for them carries heavy penalties for a Muslim- including punishment and hellfire in the afterlife. To honor the Zakat is literally a means of purification in this world against being controlled by wealth.

I heard very similar messages about money in the Mosque as I have in the Church.

  • “You can’t out-give Allah.”
  • “To the measure you give, Allah will give back to you.”
  • “Charity never decreases wealth”
  • “You need to store your wealth in places where it can’t be destroyed and where thieves can’t steal it.”

Perhaps all religious institutions have ways of pressuring their followers into giving. The penalty for not doing so appears greater for a Muslim as the Zakat that he didn’t give away is literally tied around his neck during his punishment in the afterlife. At the same time, a Muslim doesn’t need to give his charity gift through the Mosque, but is allowed to freely give these finances to individuals, organizations, etc. Not only does the Mosque not try to control where and how Zakat is spent, they encourage the givers to keep their giving undercover. There is more blessing from Allah if your giving is in secret. If you let the community know how charitable you are, then that is the extent of your blessing.

As the sermon came to a close the men started organizing themselves into rows. I found myself at the edge of the room, right beside the door where it wasn’t so conspicuous that I wasn’t participating in their religious calisthenics. If the men stood, so did I, but when they went through their kneeling motions I simply sat back down. They were all praying and reciting things in Arabic that I didn’t understand. I was silently and fervently praying myself.

After attending one Muslim service I have lots of questions. I’m not doing this project as a comparative religion study, but it is a part of my journey to understand my neighbors. This comes with some introspection, investigation, visitation, and hopefully some follow up. As I hoped might happen the Imam introduced himself to me at the end of the meeting. We know each other by our first names now. We have each other’s phone numbers. This man is no longer a caricature in my mind, he is my neighbor.

I chose today to go to the Mosque on this day because of the fears of my friends in regards to the political revolution in Egypt. I sat and stood, in silence, waiting for this group to show their true, fundamentalist colors. Finally a man stood at the end of the program to give the weekly announcements. There were three:

  1. The men were encouraged to greet a new convert.
  2. One of the men was a new grandfather; he had brought doughnuts to celebrate for after the service.
  3. Smiling the announcer said, “I’m sure by now you’ve all heard of what happened in Egypt today. Let us now pray for a democratic government to be established in that country. And let us pray that it is all done in a peaceful manner.”

And to that I joyously responded with my own expression of faith, “Amen!”

Friday, February 11, 2011

Week 7 Preview - “Free, Free, Egypt is Free!”

egypt This morning after 18 days of protests in Tahir Square, a 30-second announcement ended a 30-year reign of Hosni Mubarak in Egypt. The scenes being televised by the media are priceless; people dancing, wide-eyed children riding high on the shoulders of their parents, fireworks exploding, and soldiers smiling and taking pictures with their fellow countrymen. It is a day to celebrate!

Unless, of course, you live in FEAR.

Some of my friends choose to compare today’s toppling of a tyrant to what happened 32 years ago (to the day) when young revolutionaries overran the government buildings and radio stations in Iran. My conservative friends’ concern is that Egypt will become an Islamic controlled state and that world terrorism and Christian persecution will multiply.

Other friends choose to contrast this overthrow in Egypt with what the United States forcefully did in Iraq; observing that the overthrow of Saddam Hussein destroyed a country, killed thousands upon thousands of their population, fractured their people into opposing forces, and has nearly bankrupted our own country.

I’m wondering how the churches in my neighborhood will respond.

I drive to the grocery store to pick up items for tonight’s dinner. I flip through the news channels so I can continue hearing updates. Our President is scheduled to give a speech in a short time. Instead I find the channel with Rush Limbaugh’s rants. The first words out of his mouth suggest that Obama will try to take credit for what happened in Egypt. I’m pretty sure that isn’t what the leader of the free world will say. I think it will be more like, “Can you believe what just happened?!” but in a presidential tone.

I don’t hear anyone in the grocery store talking about Egypt, but when I get home I see lots of social media comments on Facebook and Twitter. Glenn Beck thinks this is all one big conspiracy and tells his critics that they can “Go to Hell.” Other people online are sharing stories about Christians and Muslims protecting each other’s religious freedoms and expressions.

Again, I wonder what I will find in my neighborhood. There is only one way to tell. I could choose to be afraid of what might come, or I could purposefully work on creating a better tomorrow starting here in my own town.

As soon as the President is finished speaking, I’m on my way to the local Mosque to attend a service and get to know some people.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Church 6 – Metropolitan Community Church

Metropolitan I visited a Metropolitan Community Church (MCC) today. What I learned is that I certainly have some misperceptions of how other people pursue a relationship with God and engage in worship. This is why this project of visiting the churches in my neighborhood is important to me.

Visiting a gay church is not the same thing as visiting a gay bar; or at least it isn’t the same as the notion of the gay bar I have in my head.

One of my hang-ups with homosexuality is that I get the picture of the male same-sex, sex act in my head and find it a big turnoff. I can easily reduce the complexity, creativity, and uniqueness of a person by an imagined action. It’s sad, really. I think people would be missing a whole lot of who I am if they mainly choose to categorize my life based on my sexual preferences. What I enjoy doing with my wife in the privacy of our bedroom isn’t at the forefront of people’s minds when I am grocery shopping, making a business deal, or worshipping next to them in church; the fact that I’ve made this the predominant issue for viewing the LBGT community isn’t very loving.

“But it’s sin!” you counter. It may be—but then so was the adultery that the woman had been caught up with before she was dragged to Jesus. Yet in that story he doesn’t categorize her or judge her. In fact, he responds to the situation in such a way that when he looks up from his ground-based Etch-a-Sketch he has to ask, “Hey naked lady, where are your accusers?” If I’d have asked that question this Sunday morning the Metropolitan congregation would have easily been able to point out their religious accusers. They still deal with rocks being tossed their way.

So I empty my hands of any pebbles that I’m carrying and walk into the LGBT community center where the church meets. My hand is immediately filled with the warm hand of another. There is a smile, there is a greeting, there is an exchange of names and she ushers me into the fellowship hall where the service will take place. She introduces me around. They laugh that they will be able to remember my name since there is just one new person in their midst, but that I will have more trouble because all of them are new to me.

I take stock of the people filling the room. Sex is now the last thing on my mind. These aren’t the good looking characters from the situational comedies on TV. Some are big, some are plain, some are crippled, some are awkward, some are old. Any thoughts I had about this being a place to “hook-up” were erased. These people had a far different agenda all together—they had come to worship God together.

It was a pretty typical service. There were both hymns and contemporary worship songs, an offering, an opportunity to give to the building fund, candle-lighting for specific prayers, communion, two Bible readings, an applicable message from the scripture, and a fellowship time following the benediction with cup cakes. Listening to the prayer time was very revealing- they weren’t praying for “gay” things. They were praying for their kids, for their jobs (or lack of them, in this economy), their parents, their friends having surgeries, their aches and pains, their sufferings in this world. They prayed for patience and understanding—the very things I was praying today for myself.

I went to an MCC, queer, homosexual, LGBT, left-leaning, different, church today. I worshipped God and made friends.

Who are the Churches in your Neighborhood?

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Week 6 Preview—Preparing to Go to a Gay Church

gay-church Most of the gay people I have gone to church with fit into one of two categories:

  1. They are doing everything they can not to “be” gay, including whatever programs our church has to modify or “heal” their sexual orientation.
  2. They are doing everything they can not to “act” gay, as they know that coming out will be devastating in our religious environment.

What I’ve never experienced in a church environment is people being upfront about their same-sex orientation, while at the same time pursuing healthy spirituality. Since that doesn’t happen in my church, I’ll be going down the street to one where it does.

I’m not sure what to expect

When I close my eyes and try to picture a gay church all of the popular, Hollywood depictions come to mind.

  • The men will talk like Will and Jack from Will and Grace
  • The women will all wear pants, like Ellen DeGeneres
  • The couples will be funny, like Mitchell and Cameron from The Modern Family
  • Everyone will be dressed to the standards of the Fashon Fab Five from The Queer Eye
  • The worship music will include show tunes and be sprinkled through the service like songs in a glee episode.

I have some cultural biases, don’t I? I wonder if I will find any of them to be true.

It isn’t easy to be “out” in my town

I don’t live in the most liberal state. My neighborhood is pretty conservative, even though we’ve been voting for the Democratic candidates of late. We still rubberneck when we see two men walking down the sidewalk holding hands—and wonder if our kids in the backseat saw it too—and if we are going to have to discuss it with them over dinner.

There is even a church in the next town that has frequently used its billboard as a bullying, battering ram. They let the community know that homosexuality is a gross sin and that anyone who practices it will go straight to hell without pause. They state it in multiple ways, in short little quips, always in ALL CAPS (though I guess it is true that most billboards use all caps, this church just seems to be screaming a bit louder). I’m not sure what their motivation is for their advertisements. Do they expect gay people to come to their church and repent because of the drive-by proclamation? Is it, instead, just a way to position their church with others? (Look how righteous we are! We openly bash homosexuals!) Do they think it is in their job description to tell everyone what they think is right and wrong? (Which, by the way, didn’t we learn from Adam and Eve’s experience in the Garden of Eden that wanting to be like God and determine the difference between good and evil is a sin itself?)

Maybe I’ll go visit this church too, even though they are outside my neighborhood project, just to see if I can get any more clarity.

I’m annoyed at myself for feeling uneasy about this church visitation

I’ve been worried that some of my blog readers may stop caring about this project when I start reporting on churches that don’t match up with their belief system. But this project is only about the readers when they consider themselves in their own neighborhoods. As for me, the Metropolitan Community Church IS in my neighborhood and this congregation is worth the time and effort of getting to know. I’m pretty sure Jesus loves them immensely, and he would at least drop by their place of worship or share a meal with them; so I’m starting with that as my motivation.

I’m also worried that I’ll stand out like a sore thumb—that they’ll look at me and know immediately that I’m so straight that I’ve never met a pair of boobs I didn’t like. I’m worried they will ask me to leave because I can’t get the gaydar needle to budge.

I’m worried that somebody will try to hit on me. I’m worried that I’m not fabulous enough and that no one will.

And if I’m really, super honest, I’m not worried about finding things to criticize, disagree with, and throw stones at; but I am worried that I’ll see Jesus living in their broken lives, just like I know he’s living in mine.