Mother’s Day and Churchgoing: Good News and Bad News

The good news: Mother’s Day is a big church attendance day, ranking in the top three (along with Christmas and Easter).

The bad news: Father’s Day is a low attendance day, ranking at the bottom of the churchgoing chart.

This news, both good and bad, comes from a recent survey conducted by LifeWay Research. Lifeway asked 1,000 Protestant pastors which special days of the year brought the most people to church. No surprise that Easter and Christmas took the top spots. But Mother’s Day came in number three.

Why is Mother’s Day such a popular churchgoing day? Scott McConnell, director of LifeWay Research, observes that “mothers want to be present for the affirmation that is typically offered in most churches, but families also are present knowing their attendance will honor their mother. Many families make church attendance on Mother’s Day nearly obligatory.”

McConnell may be right, but I think he misses a major factor: mothers want to go to church with their families, especially their children, on Mother’s Day. Actually, most Christian mothers would like to go to church with their families every Sunday. But on Mother’s Day they have extra clout, even among family members who would rather skip church.

But what about Father’s Day? Why doesn’t it draw the crowds to church? McConnell weighs in on this: “The attendance difference between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day is telling. . . . Either churches are less effective in affirming fathers, or families believe Christian fathers don’t value their participation in worship services.” What McConnell fails to state is that families might believe fathers don’t value their participation in worship services because, in fact, many fathers don’t value going to church.

In a USA Today article, Ed Stetzer, president of LifeWay, puts it more bluntly: “It seems that on Mother’s Day, moms say, ‘Let’s all go to church.’ But on Father’s Day, dads say, ‘I’m going to go play golf.’” I expect Stetzer is on to something here.

David Murrow, author of Why Men Hate Going to Church, believes that churches are to blame for the tendency among fathers to skip worship on their special day. According to Murrow, on Mother’s Day “pastors tend to gush over women in their sermons. . . . But on Father’s Day, men get a ‘straighten up’ lecture: ‘Dad, get right with God, reconcile with your kids,’ etc.” I’m not sure Murrow is always right. But, to the extent that he is, I have an explanation. Pastors are blasting away at fathers because they are guilty about their own failures as fathers. They are saying to the fathers in the pews what they need to say to themselves.

Nevertheless, I fear that the main reason Mother’s Day is a big church attendance day and Father’s Day lags behind has to do with far more than what happens on these two special Sundays. In general, men are much less involved in church than women, fathers much less than mothers. Given the high correlation between churchgoing fathers and children who end up as faithful disciples of Jesus, this should be a major concern. I’m not suggesting that we all start pummeling fathers who don’t go to church regularly. But I am suggesting that we need to give this some serious thought. David Murrow, in Why Men Hate Going to Church, has some ideas about this. I wonder what you think. Why are men less inclined to attend worship services? Why is this true even among men who are believing Christians?

Recommendations for a Nation of Heretics

In my last post, I began to comment on Ross Douthat’s new book, Bad Religion: How We Became a Nation of Heretics. Well, actually, I focused on a recent interview Douthat did with Christianity Today. He does believe that much of American religion, Christianity, in particular, is “bad” because we have lost touch with Christian orthodoxy and with the institutions (churches, denominations) and guard and pass on classic Christian truth.

Ross Douthat at Faith Angle Forum, May 2012

In the last couple of days, I’ve been attending the Faith Angle Forum in Florida. As it turns out, Douthat was one of the featured speakers. He is as good in person as in writing, which made for an engaging conversation about the state of religion in America. Whether you agree with Douthat or not, he is a valuable contributor to this dialogue and I hope he continues to express his views on the matter.

Anyway, back to Christianity Today. In the interview, Douthat was asked: How can we begin to address a nation of heretics? “We,” in this question, means “we who believe ourselves to be orthodox Christians.” Here is Douthat’s telling answer:

There has been much healthy Catholic and Protestant dialogue and cooperation during the past 30 years. But ultimately the success of U.S. Christianity depends on individual churches and confessions, not on ecumenism for ecumenism’s sake. Protestants and Catholics need to recognize everything we have in common and then say we’re also going to focus on building separate effective churches.

Christianity’s failure in the United States is an institutional failure, and the answer to institutional failure is stronger institutions. America has more to gain from a more potent Protestantism and Catholicism than it does from even the most fruitful Protestant-Catholic dialogue.

For evangelicals, it means thinking more seriously about ecclesiology and what it will take to sustain Christianity across generations. Promise Keepers, Campus Crusade for Christ, and other parachurch groups have been important to evangelicalism. But “parachurch” makes sense over the long term in the context of a church. The danger for evangelicalism is becoming too parachurch without enough church. Some megachurches seem to function like parachurches rather than churches, as though everything else that’s going on is more important than the central life of the community of worship. It might be important for evangelicals to think of themselves as Presbyterians, Baptists, and so on, and recover the virtues of confessionalism, because it’s confessions, not just superstar pastors, that sustain Christianity over the long haul.

I think Douthat is substantially right. Though it’s popular these days to love Jesus and hate the church, in fact, the church is the context in which the truth about Jesus is told and passed on. It’s the context where Jesus is honored and worshiped. You cannot ultimately have a vital, sustainable Christian faith apart from the church.

I take seriously Douthat’s recommendation for evangelicals. I agree that we need to do much more thinking about ecclesiology (the understanding of the church). Though parachurch organizations can help to revitalize and strengthen the church, they should not suppose to replace it. As you may know, I work for a parachurch organization (Foundations for Laity Renewal). One of the reasons I joined this organization had to do with its longstanding commitment to support and partner with the church (in the form of particular churches).

By the way, if you’re looking for some serious reflection on the church and its relationship to Christian faith, I would recommend an outstanding book by my friend Tod Bolsinger. It Takes a Church to Raise a Christian: How the Community of God Transforms Lives has been well-received in a wide range of contexts: churches, small groups, seminaries, pastors’ retreats, etc. You can also find lots of insights about the church on Tod’s blog.

In my next post, I want to think with you about why the notion of “heresy” is an important one, even if it isn’t especial PC these days.

 

Are We a Nation of Heretics?

Are we a nation of heretics? Ross Douthat, a columnist for the New York Times, says “Yes.” It’s a rather elaborate “Yes,” actually, taking up 293 pages of Douthat’s new book, Bad Religion: How We Became a Nation of Heretics.

I always enjoy Douthat’s writing, and Bad Religion is no exception to this rule. He is thoughtful, knowledgeable, and can turn a phrase with the best of them. I’m about a quarter into Bad Religion and am finding myself both informed and entertained. So far, Douthat has been focusing on the rise and fall of mainline Christianity in America in the last half century or a little more.

If you’re looking for a way to sample Douthat’s thinking before you purchase Bad Religion, Christianity Today has a fine interview available online.

Here’s how it begins:

The biggest threat facing America is not a faltering economy or a spate of books by famed atheists. Rather, the country meets new challenges due to the decline of traditional Christianity, New York Times columnist Ross Douthat suggests in Bad Religion: How We Became a Nation of Heretics (Free Press). Douthat has taken his own personal tour of American Christianity: he was baptized Episcopalian, attended evangelical and Pentecostal churches as a child, and converted to Catholicism at age 17. He argues that prosperity preachers, self-esteem gurus, and politics operating as religion contribute to the contemporary decline of America. CT spoke with Douthat about America’s decline from a vigorous faith, modern heretics, and why we need a revival of traditional Christianity.

What do you mean when you say we’re facing the threat of heresy?

I try to use an ecumenical definition, starting with what I see as the theological common ground shared by my own Catholic Church and many Protestant denominations. Then I look at forms of American religion that are influenced by Christianity, but depart in some significant way from this consensus. It’s a C. S. Lewisian, Mere Christianity definition of orthodoxy or heresy. I’m trying to look at the ways the American religion today departs from theological and moral premises that traditional Protestants and Catholics have in common.

How did America become a nation of heretics?

We’ve always been a nation of heretics. Heresy used to be constrained and balanced by institutional Christianity to a far greater extent than it is today. What’s unique about our religious moment is not the movements and currents such as the “lost gospel” industry, the world of prosperity preaching, the kind of therapeutic religion that you get from someone like Oprah Winfrey, or various highly politicized forms of faith. What’s new is the weakness of the orthodox Christian response. There were prosperity preachers and therapeutic religion in the 1940s and ’50s—think of bestsellers like Norman Vincent Peale’s The Power of Positive Thinking—but there was also a much more robust Christian center.

The Protestant and Catholic churches that made a real effort to root their doctrine and practice in historic Christianity were vastly stronger than they are today. Even someone who was dabbling in what I call heresy was also more likely to have something in his religious life—some institutional or confessional pressure—tugging him back toward a more traditional faith. The influence of heretics has been magnified by the decline of orthodox Christianity.

Of course, Douthat won’t win any popularity contest by using the words “heresy” and “heretics” to describe people in our day who think they are Christian or, at any rate, acceptably spiritual. He’s got enough here to make just about everybody upset. Mainliners will object to his blunt depiction of denominational decline. Freethinking Christians and other religious folk will be put off by being labeled heretics. And atheists will be bugged by the fact that a book on “bad religion” turns out to believe that certain kinds of religion, especially orthodox (right-thinking) religion, is in fact good.

Whether you agree with Douthat’s basic thesis or not, I think he’s on to something. I’ll have more to say about this later.

The Church as a Thin Place: Dreams and Visions

Part 10 of series:
Thin Places

In yesterday’s post, I began reflecting in a more practical way on the church as a thin place. Today I want to continue these reflections, sharing a few of my dreams and visions for the church.

The Church as a Place of Prayer for All Peoples

In the Old Testament, the Temple was the supreme place of prayer for the Israelites. But in some prophetic passages, a more expansive vision appeared. Consider, for example, Isaiah 56:7, which speaks of the Temple as a “house of prayer for all peoples.”

The church, it seems to me, should be such a place, not just accidentally, but intentionally. Yes, I know most churches are theoretically open to all kinds of people. But, in fact, most churches do not make an effort to invite people to pray with them.

I struggled with this fact as Senior Pastor of Irvine Presbyterian Church. Along the way, my fellow leaders and I made some changes that were meant to welcome all people to join us in prayer. For example, at some point we realized that we prayed The Lord’s Prayer every week, but nowhere provided the text for those who didn’t know. So we began printing and projecting The Lord’s Prayer for the sake of our guests. We also closed every service with an invitation for people to come forward for prayer with an elder or deacon. During my sixteen years at Irvine, we prayed for thousands of people in this way.

Daily Prayer

But I had other dreams, dreams that I was not able to realize when God called me away to Texas. One of these dreams was to do as many more liturgical churches do, and offer morning and evening prayer every day. Our form of prayer wouldn’t necessarily be as structured as one would find in a Catholic or Episcopal church. In fact, I thought it would be interesting to vary the menu quite a bit. Yet, with utter consistency, we would offer a short prayer service very day, perhaps at 7:00 in the morning and 7:00 in the evening. This would be intended, not just for church members, but for people in the community. We would say to our neighbors: “If ever you feel like you want to pray, or if every you need somebody to pray for you, or if you just want to sit in quiet while others are praying, come join us. You are always welcome. We are here for you because God is here for you.”

Adding twelve prayer services a week (Monday – Saturday) would have taken some organizational work, but it would have been well worth it. I figured that the pastors (we had three and a half pastors at that time) would lead some of these prayer times, but not all. Others would be led by lay leaders, including non-ordained staff, elders, deacons, and others. We’d always have at least two people present, preferably a man and a woman. The prayer time would last around fifteen minutes, though people would be invited to remain for quiet prayer if they wished.

I tried to get my fellow leaders to be excited about this idea, but, frankly, we had too much going on to give this vision the attention it needed. I sometimes thought that offering prayer of this sort should be at the heart of any church’s mission, but I didn’t press the point, right or wrong. It’s certainly easy to see how such a practice of daily prayer would help a church be a thin place, a place where people encounter God.

A Prayer Chapel

I had also hoped that, someday, Irvine Presbyterian Church would build a prayer chapel that could be open all day. This would be different from the chapel that was part of our master plan, a building that would be suitable for small weddings, memorial services, and so on. The prayer chapel would be quite small, designed so that it could remain unlocked without continual supervision. Given the weather in Southern California, this could have been a prayer garden, though we didn’t have much space for something like this.

I realized that a prayer chapel such as I envisioned would create lots of challenges, since it would be open and usually unsupervised. But I had hope that, in time, we could build such a space and offer it to our community as a place of quite prayer. Many on our church building committee were favorable to this idea.

Programmatic realities took precedence, so we built an administration building with a youth center instead. I think this was the right choice, and I supported it completely. But I never gave up the hope that, someday, we might build a place of prayer for our community, either a chapel or a garden.

The “Holey” Church

Today, my dreams and visions for the church have more to do with what the church does while dispersed in the world than with what it does while gathered together for prayer, worship, discipleship, and service. I don’t in any way wish to disparage the importance of the church gathered. But, in my role with Laity Lodge, I’m more invested in the church scattered.

Thus I want to revisit something I wrote about in my last post, the vision of the church as a collection of thin places out in the world. If you think along the lines of the thin place model, with the earth and heaven being separated by some sort of thick barrier, then the people of God are millions of thin places in the barrier. Or, to mix metaphors, we are like holes in the Swiss cheese barrier between the earthly and the divine. The church would be, pardon the bad pun, a “holey” church, a church of holes through which God’s presence would be experienced.

So, though I’m all in favor of churches providing spaces for people to experience God, I’m even more excited about the idea of Christians living in the world in such a way that people don’t even have to go to a church facility or a retreat center to sense the presence of God.

In my next post I want to offer some theological reflections on the notion of thin places, and share some hesitations I have about this metaphor.