Why “Church” In Suburbia

April 21, 2011 at 7:50 am

I was talking with my friend Steve the other day and he brought up an interesting thought. What would draw someone to church in American Suburbia (this certainly applies to other contexts, but mine is suburbia so that colors lots of my conversations).

Now, before you go giving me all of your “holy” answers that people are drawn to your church because of Jesus and love and all of that, let me clarify the original thought. When you ask many people in suburbia what drew them to a particular local church over another, their answer usually falls into one of three categories: 1) the kids program, 2) the preaching and/or 3) the music. Yes, many people in in suburbia choose a local church based on personal preference, but let’s think about what draws people.

The kids program is understandable. Suburbanites want the best for their kids, even if it means raising their kids to expect to be catered to and entertained, even while learning about God. I have lots of thoughts about suburban church kids programs but not right now; it’s the music and the preaching that I want to think about today.

Let’s be honest, many people are drawn to certain local churches because of the music and the preaching. But let’s be honest, I don’t need a local church to get great music or preaching. With the rise in technology, I can access some of the world’s best bible teachers any time I want. I can listen to men like Mark Driscoll, Matt Chandler, John Piper, Tim Chester and (even though he’s still a holdout who charges for his sermons) Tim Keller (please don’t use the comment section to air your beefs with any of the names I just mentioned, that’s really not the point). In other words, I can, at any time, listen to a sermon that’s probably “better” than any local preacher around me. Any time I want.

Or, consider the music. Many of our local churches are all singing the same songs so I guess, it comes down to some as a question of “band preference” or ambiance. But, why should I go listen to your band when I can listen to Hillsong do the very song you’re covering? “The live atmosphere,” you might say, but I can put on a live Hillsong DVD, crank up my surround sound system, fill my living room with my kids and get a live experience. Or better, yet, I’ll go see Hillsong’s live movie in the theater. Or better still, I’ll go see them when they tour with Chris Tomlin on the mega-worship tour experience!

Despite my cynicism, I understand the draw of preaching and music, I just think we need to think a little more below the surface. If I have access to the world’s best music/preaching at any time I want, is it really the preaching/music that draws me to a local church? Well, sort of. After all, why don’t we just video in the world’s best preachers and musicians while we all get together on a Sunday morning? Yes, I know about “video venues,” but this is not the norm and I think there are good reasons.

The music and the preaching become different in the context of a local gospel-centered community committed to living together as part of God’s family on mission, sent to serve the world and continually learn to walk in His ways. The music takes on a different light when we sing it with people we are experiencing life with. The preaching takes on a different light when it is directed to us and our specific context, our struggles, our victories, our community.

Though we might have access to the world’s best preaching/music any time we want, the Christian life is not meant to be a solitary existence. The point (at least part of the point) of the music and preaching is not just to equip the individual but the community.

But how often do we hear people say that they were drawn to a local church family precisely because they lived together as family? Maybe this should be our focus? Maybe we should concentrate on laying down our own preferences and rights for the sake of others. Maybe we should know enough about the person sitting across the aisle from us to weep with them when they weep? Maybe we should know their name first? Maybe, if we strive to build true gospel-centered community, the music and the preaching will come alive in ways we never otherwise expected, because really, it’s not about our preferences in the first place.

Slow Going In Suburbia

January 25, 2011 at 10:42 am

I was born and raised in suburban Phoenix. Until later in life, I knew nothing else. It was the only filter I had; it was the only experience I knew. But since then, I’ve had the chance to live elsewhere and travel a bit. Having done so, as much as sometimes I wish it were otherwise, I have developed a heart for suburbia and its particular challenges.

I know that there is a lot of emphasis (and rightly so) on church planting in urban centers, and valuable experience is gained in small rural churches, but suburbia needs the Gospel just as much. Suburbia, by its very nature, breeds spiritual consumerism and complacency. Many people move to suburbia with an almost utopian vision, the upper middle class breeds notions of security, comfort and status. We want to get in to the right neighborhood with the best schools, close to the freeway. Surbia, by its very nature, often carries with it the idea of self-sufficiency, and having “made it” and breeds consumerism and isolation.

Almost every modern suburb (at least in Phoenix) is centered around, not a cultural center, but a shopping center. But, while consumerism is center, choice is not necessarily the center. Drive a few miles in any direction and you’re likely to see the exact same strip mall configuration, Wal•Mart, Target, Best Buy or a Grocery Store as the foundation, surrounded by Chili’s, Olive Garden, Texas Roadhouse and a movie theater.

Though consumerism is central to suburbia, so is individualism. It is not an exaggeration to say that, in the Phoenix suburbs, it is entirely likely to live in a home for 5-7 years without ever knowing your neighbor’s name. Our backyards are walled in by six-feet high “privacy” fences and once you get 500 feet from your home, you hit your electronic garage-door opener, pull in and close it behind you before ever even getting out of the car. You went out of your way to be friendly if you nodded or waived to a neighbor who may have inadvertently been caught outside when you passed. Though we move to particular suburbs because of the quality public schools and kids’ sports leagues dominate our weekends, we are strangely isolated creatures with a thousand of the same choices before everyday.

Churches are often the spiritual equivalent of shopping malls. There is something for every age group and every interest (The Spiritual Life of the Knitter class, etc.) and every taste. If you don’t like a particular music or lighting style, don’t worry. You can come to the “traditional” or “contemporary” or even the “Gen X” worship style because your personal preference reigns. If you can’t make it Sunday morning, don’t worry, we can serve you Sunday night or Saturday night or you can watch online. Yet, even with all of the choices we offer you, there will something strangely familiar, almost like you just saw the same strip-mall a couple of miles back or you’ve seen the same church somewhere.

As I’ve moved more and more in a reformed, missional direction, the challenges of suburbia have loomed large over my thoughts. Jared Wilson is quoted as saying:

“To the cultural Christian, there is nothing attractive about a small church that expects relational community, practices regular neighborhood service, highlights the cost of discipleship in every message, has a minimalist menu of programs to partake from, and gives most of its money away (precluding a “nice” facility and assorted bells and whistles).”

By its very nature, a missional/simple approach to church life means that it will be slow-going in suburbia. By your very organizational structure, you are confronting people’s idols of consumerism and isolationism/individualism. If people move to suburbia sometimes (half-heartedly) chasing the shadow of community, the best way to confront the idol of individualism is to demonstrate real community for them. If consumerism is king in suburbia, the best way to de-throne that idol is to display sacrificial lives willing to give rather than driven to consume.

This also means that much of the missional/simple church’s time and energy will be spent breaking down and breaking through existing paradigms, “re-churching” people. This means that if you are convicted and committed to be missional in suburbia, you will likely grow slower than other models of church and you simply have to be OK with that. You will be forced to measure success/failure, no longer in the “3 B’s” (buildings, budgets and butts in the seats) but by someone learning their neighbor’s name and watching the football game together.

I am convinced that people in suburbia want more than the typical suburban church has offered. Many people want to be challenged and be swept up into something larger than their daily routine. They want to understand the significance and importance of their work-a-day routine. The Missional mindset requires that we view life as more than simply a collection of errands.

As we teach our children to sing, there is something special about being both “deep and wide.” It just takes a while to get there. But it’s worth it.