Post #4: Faithful Desertion: The Internal Threat to the Evangelical Movement

In the Fall of the Evangelical Nation, Christine Wicker identifies both internal and external threats to the evangelical movement. Personally, I found the internal threats to be the most interesting, and telling. Besides, implosion is always more intriguing than explosion... at least to me.

While the mega-churches represent, in many ways, the pinnacle of the Evangelical movement, Wicker points out that these behemoths of organized faith now face challenges because of their sheer size and location-specific nature. Put simply, the size factor makes these churches largely incapable of change and adaptation. How can you downsize, or move in a diversified, house-church direction, when you’ve got a massive building and an even more massive mortgage to deal with?

The second internal factor only compounds the challenge of the first. Namely, this factor is the mass migration of the most committed of evangelicals to de-churched, house-churched, or internet-churched settings. You see, while mega-churches may be formed by charismatic, capable, CEO-type alpha males, it is truly the committed, highly involved, highly sacrificial second-tier of volunteer leaders that keep the ship afloat- so to speak.

Wicker writes,


Now, I can already imagine the critique that some would offer here. "Hey, this sounds like consumerist Christianity!" I think not. I would argue that what we’re seeing described above is simply the logical implications of the Protestant Reformation. When you make Christianity - primarily - something that is between an individual and Jesus/God, it should not be surprising that you end up with a situation like what we see today. I would argue that, when you add technological innovation into the mix, this is actually the inevitable result. I don’t see this as consumerist Christianity as much as I see it as personalized, empowered Christianity.

I think if the consumerist lebel fits anywhere, it fits when applied to what’s left of the mega-church movement once that most committed 20% moves on. It’s what’s left that looks like consumerist Christianity; and what almost guarantees the collapse of what has quickly become an unsustainable system. Because what you have left are the people who show up to “get”. To "get" a good, slick Sunday service. To “get” a good kid’s program. To “get” a chance to sing in a good choir. To “get” a chance to play in the church sponsored and subsidized baseball league. To "get" religion, without any real commitment or sacrifice necessary. Sign up... and receive. That's the deal the 80% find pretty compelling.

What’s interesting to me is not that this migration of the most-committed is happening, but how quickly it’s happening. I would certainly count my wife and myself amongst this group. And by the way, I would add that a great many of these faith migrants are actually decidedly post-evangelical. It is because they, we, feel freed from certain assumptions of the evangelical movement, that these new options become not just available, but viable.

For instance, I remember a tactic a pastor I knew often used. He would warn Christians not regularly attending the local church (read: the building and its programs), that they were basically naked and unprotected spiritually. Because they were not under the “covering” of a pastor, they were wide open to the attacks of Satan. They were the sitting ducks of the spiritual world.

Now many evangelicals might not have come under quite that degree of manipulative teaching, but they probably experienced something close- even if it was more implicit than explicit. But fewer and fewer Christians are buying that argument. Not only do they see that it’s awfully “opportunistic” for a pastor to say such a thing, but they just don’t see it as biblical. And remember, it’s the more biblically literate, biblically astute people that are leaving. And you just can’t pull the wool over the eyes of these migrants.

But here’s the irony: these mega-church pastors will want to motivate their church attenders/members, in order to replace those who are leaving. But only to such a degree. Because recent history suggests that once these people reach a certain level of commitment and understanding, they’re very likely to join the ranks of those who’ve already vacated the premises.




Post #3: Where Does Postmoderism Fit into the Mix?

It’s an interesting experience to have someone read or say back to you a list of defining characteristics – characteristics that once helped define you. This is especially intriguing after a certain period of time has passed. One is then able to hear these points with new perspective, new clarity. Do they fit anymore? Yes? No? If not, why not?

Part of the reason why this is a telling experience is that when one is actually shifting away from a certain perspective, it tends to happen in small, almost imperceptible steps. It almost never happens in one fell swoop. But in looking back, some time later, one is able to do an apples-for-apples comparison – so to speak. This is what I believed then. This is what I believe now. And sometimes it almost feels like you’re introducing the new you to an old you that you hardly even recognize. Hardly even relate to.

Many of the people portrayed in Christine Wicker’s book are like this. Some move from evangelical/fundamentalist Christianity towards liberal Christianity. Some move all the way from Christian fundamentalism to atheism. Most though, land somewhere in between. Still believing in God, but with much more nuance and mystery stirred into the pot.

Of course, any defining group is going to have hooks to hang its hopes on. For many of the evangelicals that Wicker documents, a defining hook is a belief in biblical literalism. A the Bible says it, I believe it, that does it, kind of thing. On the other end of the spectrum are the Christian liberals – those who can’t take the Bible literally because it contradicts their scientific, modern worldview.

While these two perspectives do define the typical 20th century American response to the modern dilemma, I don’t feel that they fully cover what’s happening now. That is to say, these two options: Fundamentalism and Liberalism, both belong in the modern milieu. But, for many of us, the assumptions of Modernism have been found wanting. And that trend has been growing since the 1970’s. Hence: postmodernism.

Wicker describes in some detail how the ongoing march of modernistic science is leading more and more people away from traditional Christian perspectives. However, I was a little surprised that there wasn’t more discussion on how many people find not only Christian traditionalism wanting, but also the bold, unchecked claims of Modernism.

I am in my mid 30s. Most of the people I know, Christian and otherwise, in my age group and younger, do not see existence as being wrapped up, lock, stock and barrel, with a material universe. That is to say, there’s a reason why so many people check off “spiritual but not religious” as an option on a survey. Sure, organized religion is fading. But so too is belief in the solely material universe. In fact, even science itself is morphing, shifting away from some of its original tenets. Take quantum theory and intentionality for instance.

Besides, even beyond the fact that spirituality is, if anything, growing, not declining, the Enlightenment Experiment hasn’t exactly turned out to be all it was cracked up to be either. The ideology of secular humanism has not delivered us into a state of paradise anymore than Christian fundamentalism has. Remember, Nietzche, for all his railing against the barbaric nature of religion, is thought to have died from Syphilis – as a consequence of his “sexual liberation”. Now where’s the freedom and progress in that?

So in my mind, we’re really still on the cusp (or, if you will, the precipice), of something new. The landscape has changed. Worldviews have, and are continuing, to shift - in America, and throughout the Western world. But this shift leaves nothing undisturbed in its wake. This is as true for pure, unmitigated Modernism, as it is for its twin pair of descendents: Christian fundamentalism and Christian liberalism.

Getting back to Nietzche for a second, Wicker makes note of those Christian bumberstickers that read: “Nietzche is dead - God". This is, of course, a play on the fact that Nietzche said and wrote the exact opposite, claiming that the Enlightenment world had rid itself of a need for God- functionally killing Him. But the irony behind the bumper-sticker, silly as it is, is not of course just that Nietzche is dead, but that despite all Nietzche’s predictions to the contrary, a belief in God is still alive and well in the 21st Century - even if it may be a slightly different version than was popular in Nietzche’s time.




Post #2: Understanding the Appeal of a Mega-Church: A City on a Hill?

There is something unique and valuable about the degree to which one can understand, and thus critique something, having been within it at some point. That's true whether that be in regards to a church, a movement, a worldview, even an idea.

I think many people wonder how the idea of a mega-church can even get off the ground. Those who've never spent time as one of the faithful within those very expansive four walls might think the whole thing seems like one massive, impersonal form of groupthink - without even the promise of heart-felt community. File in, file out. Right? What's so appealing about that?

Listen to what Christine Wicker has to say about the experience one can expect to find in such a "mega" setting:


I can relate. And not just to the part about the fruit that comes from blind evangelical faith, but specifically the kind that is born of a mega-church experience. In the early 90's I attended just such a mega-church in the Houston, TX area. Like Lake Pointe Church (the one Wicker mentions in the book) this particular church I attended was part of the Southern Baptist Convention. In fact, if I remember correctly, at the time I was there the senior pastor of this church was also actually the president of the Southern Baptist Convention. So we're talking the center of the lion's den here.

Anyway, all that is to say, I remember feeling very safe in such a context. Put bluntly, I could live my life under the illusion that the city of Houston and this particular church were one in the same. Of course there was the distinct line in the sand drawn between believers and unbelievers. But for me, all I knew of Houston was pretty much what I knew of this church. Let me paint a picture for you:

This church boasted something like 20,000 members. On any given Sunday, 10,000 faithful would show up - per service, of which there were three. The church campus itself took up two full city blocks. And, believe it or not, around the time I moved on from the church and from Houston, the leadership was busy planning a another campus on the other end of town - and this one was going to be just as big. That's right. Two branches of the same mega-church, in one city.

Within the sub-cultural stew of this one church I could play on a softball team that was part of the church's own softball league (yes, there were that many teams!), one could, as I did, do some music recording in the church's own state of the art TV/music studio, one could even, get this, elevator up to the fourth floor to get some bowling in. No, I'm not kidding. The church had its own bowling alley- way up on the upper levels. And if you wanted some more robust exercise you could work out, play racquetball, or shoot some hoops in the Family Life Center fitness facility, located one floor below. That basketball gym was so nice that one time I was actually shooting around when the entire Phoenix Suns basketball team arrived to practice. Within minutes I was shooting three-pointers next to Charles Barkley. No joke. Seriously, I'm not joking. Even though I can't help but laugh as I think back on this incident, this is a TRUE STORY.

Its embarrassing to say this now, but during the two years I spent at this particular mega-church, I don't think I met more than a handful of people who weren't somehow involved with the church itself. That's right, I had no outside involvement with anyone outside that one church context. And why would I need to? The church was pretty much a city unto itself. Needless to say, I'm miles away from that kind of church experience/mentality now. Not that I would say it didn't serve a redemptive purpose in my life then. Actually, I think it did.

But let me say this: Being in my very early 20's at the time, it was very powerful to see this ecclesial juggernaut work its stuff. There's something very compelling for a young person to see such unanimity on the matters of God and the world - especially on such a massive scale. Its soothing and comforting in a world that can seem so large and layered in fogbanks of ambiguity.

Now, whether or not one agrees with the perspective of the universe that such a context perpetuates is another matter. All I'm getting at is that I agree with Wicker that if we're to understand this cultural phenomena - not just specifically the mega-church, but evangelicalism in general - we need to understand its draw.

And yet, interestingly enough, even with so much to offer, Wicker does a very thorough job of demonstrating just how little effect this socio-religious experience is actually having on the American population. More on that in our next installment. Stay tuned.



Post #1: An Introduction to Myth: Smoke and Mirrors in the Sanctuary

At the moment I have about seven books waiting to be read and reviewed for Precipice. In reality, I won’t be reviewing all of them, because I just don’t have the time and energy to do that. And besides, what started as a slow dribble two years ago has turned into an onslaught of book deliveries from publishers. Now, some of these books are very much in line with the subject matter we tend to deal with at Precipice. Others, not so much. I’m sure it comes as no revelation that the ones that do receive mention are the ones that are “on topic” – so to speak.

Once in a while I’ll hear about a book that hasn’t been forwarded for review in Precipice, but that definitely peaks my interest. That happened recently with a book titled the Fall of the Evangelical Nation: the Surprising Crisis Inside the Church. The author is Christine Wicker, who spent seventeen years at the Dallas Morning News as a feature writer, columnist and religion writer.

A blurb about the book was sent to me by a friend from Presbyterian/Presbymergent circles. Truth be told, I think he both thought the book sounded interesting, and was more than happy to get in a jab at the Evangelical crowd- after having to suffer years of news about the ongoing decline of mainline churches in America. Anyway, all that is to say, I put a request in with Ms. Wicker and she kindly arranged for her publisher, Harper-Collins, to forward me a copy of the book.

Now, several weeks later, I'm happy to say that this book is an excellent read: insightful, probing, well written and well-documented.

The early part of the book deals with numbers. And to anyone familiar with the Evangelical movement, this is not surprising. Because Evangelicals have long considered the “gospel-end-game” to be easily quantifiable, they have long been very interested in keeping score. And yet, according to Ms. Wicker, these numbers are not all what they’re cracked up to be – quite literally. A strong argument is made for how these numbers tend to be grossly inflated- largely because they come from the churches and denominations themselves. And anyone who’s been involved in the somewhat competitive Evangelical game of “conversion-scoring” knows that the numbers always tend to be distorted in one direction: upward.

In reality, according to the research doe by Wicker, the true story of the state of Evangelical church in America is a troubling one – at least for the people who believe in the cause. According to Wicker, not only have the exisiting numbers been greatly inflated, but furthermore, growth rates suggest that the Evangelical movement is not growing, not even holding steady- but actually shrinking. And shrinking fast.

Wicker opens her book thusly,


Wow! Thems fightin' words! Except that the author, Wicker, has no specific axe to grind here. She is no enemy of the evangelical movement. In fact, to some degree, just as with myself, she is a product of it. And that’s important. Because one almost needs to be an “insider” in order to get at the real meaning of things, to translate the language and the actions of a sub-culture so as to make it palatable for the masses.

This is an important book, addressing a very significant issue. So much so that I plan on interacting with Ms. Wicker’s findings, insights, and open questions with a series of posts. That’s right, there’s just too much good stuff to get at here in one 1500 word book review, even less so in one “current” post. If your interest is tweaked, consider picking up the book. If you have a vested interest in the subject matter of this religio-culutral-politcal issue, you’ll want to read this for yourself, first hand in Ms. Wicker’s book. Influential leaders from across the American religious spectrum are lining up to give it props:

"Like Dorothy exposing the Wizard of Oz", writes Diana Butler Bass, "Christine Wicker pulls back the curtain on conservative evangelicalism and finds the movement's greatness and power much more modest than its reputation. With caregul analysis, Wicker reveals the spiritual downturn in the Religious Right, how it has lost its hold over contemporary America..."

Interstingly, as Bass here notes, even more than documenting a decline, what Wicker is saying is that the Religious Right/Evangelical influence has always been overstated, always a game of sometimes intential, sometimes unintentional, smoke and mirrors.

Marcus Borg says of the book,

"Combining the style of a journalist with the analytical perspective of a religiously-sympathetic sociologist, Wicker makes a surprising, important, and persuastive case."

So, stay tuned. There’s more to come in the coming days and weeks in this series titled, Witness to Decline.