Interview, Part One

I'm posting the full text of my interview with the British newspaper in two parts. This may answer some of the questions my abstract generated. These are the germinal thoughts that will become part of my presentation. Thanks to Goz for the opportunity.

Q: What worries you about the Megachurch phenomenon?

A: Three things. First, the megachurch model relies on consumerism and individualism to flourish. It might be possible to grow a church of five or ten thousand without pandering to so-called felt needs, but I don’t believe I’ve seen it done. In the U.S., churches are currently asking what services they can provide that aren’t being provided (i.e., Starbucks coffee in the foyer, game platforms for the youth, fruit smoothies, Krispy Kreme donuts, McDonalds, bookstore, etc.). There is very little wrong with any of these things, but when the purpose is to provide a better product to shoppers, then the telos of church has changed from cruciform life or faithfulness to satisfying consumers. Barth called this the difference between a church operating out of agape and one operating out of eros. The Church is called to agape, not eros.

Second, the megachurch, and now especially the multi-site, model has led to a commodification of the Gospel. Sermons are focused on what Dallas Willard calls “sin management.” Rather than tying the preaching cycle to the lectionary or some sort of theological center, pastors are “preaching” about finances, parenting, marriage, social issues like abortion and homosexuality, and traditional cultural roles. All of those things are valid topics, but is Sunday morning the best time to talk about issues? In order to communicate with the broadest possible audience, the sermons are made as generic as possible. The Scriptures are reduced to pithy sayings or practical advice or a guidebook for life. The Gospel, or preaching as an opportunity for a Word of God event (as in Barth where God reveals Godself by means of Godself to the listener) to happen is absolutely neutered by this reduction of preaching to a commodity that must serve some “practical” need. As Kenneson and Street point out in their wonderful critique Selling Out the Church: The Dangers of Church Marketing, whatever is perceived by the consumer to be a felt need is in fact a felt need for the purpose of advertising, preaching and ministry.

Third, there has been a redefinition of the role of the pastor in the megachurch model. I’m not sure which church growth guru came up with the metaphor of rancher as opposed to shepherd, but the trend has caught on. Pastors no longer pastor in the megachurch model. Or, to hear them tell it, they pastor a staff who then pastor the church. Now I think metaphors matter. Hans Frei, following Barth, argued that metaphors in Scripture matter. As part of revelation, they weren’t simply plucked out of thin air and applied willy nilly. If shepherd was the controlling metaphor for pastor, there was probably an idea in the mind of Jesus and the early church as to why that metaphor mattered. Any notion of the pastor as a man or woman who preached a six-week series on managing household finances and investments to a group of people whose names the pastor didn’t know, and whose children were strangers to the pastor, and whose lives were hidden from the pastor, and for whom the pastor only prayed sort of generically (i.e., Lord, bless these ten thousand people whose names I don’t know.) surely wasn’t in the mind of the church leaders who wrote texts about shepherds and called Jesus that Great Shepherd of the Sheep. Shepherds care about sheep, including individual sheep, thus the stories of leaving the ninety-nine. Shepherds know them, care for their wounds, tend to their needs. Megachurch pastors have no time for that. They “pastor” cowboys, if we’re to follow the metaphor, who then work the ranch on behalf of the rancher. It’s time for megachurches to fess up that they’ve adopted a Catholic model of bishops and ministers. The megachurch pastor functions as a bishop. Now megas are talking about franchising and branding so that they can replicate themselves in geographically disconnected regions. The Catholic Church has been doing that for millennia; they simply refer to their franchises as parishes.

Q: In the past you have said that you don't think Megachurches are a valid expression of God's church. That is a bold and wide statement. Can you unpack it a bit for us.

I think a church has to be small enough for people to know each other. The Gospel is about a group of people who covenant to live in community with accountability and mutual affection and support—all that goes with the idea of community. Megachurches may offer a valid worship event, but they aren’t offering church. They stress a small group model for real discipleship. I’ve always argued that the small group is actually the church, and again, whichever staff pastor oversees the small group leaders is a bishop with ministers under his authority.

A megachurch worship event is a very sterile thing. Worship is supposed to shape us into a particular kind of people. If I go to receive a blessing or an event that is tailored to my felt needs and I’m never required to minister to my fellow parishioners, what kind of person am I being shaped to be? A narcissist? A consumer?

Q: In the present day, when the Christian church is under such attack from the mainstream (esp. in the UK) many would claim it's counterintuitive to criticise certain Churches over their management style and presentation when they ostensibly seem to be contributing in a positive way to their communities and steadily growing. What would you say to this?

A: I think tradition is an ongoing conversation between concerned parties about what is best for the community. Isn’t that a paraphrase of Alasdair MacIntyre? I think I read too much. The conversation, the critique never hurts. What hurts are ad hominem attacks, unfounded criticisms and ignoring ecclesiological errors that are counterproductive to the development of the community of God. There will always be enemies outside, just as there will always be enemies inside; that doesn’t absolve us of the responsibility to clean our own house—I believe the NT refers to the idea that judgment must begin at the house of God. These aren’t just management issues. Worship is one of the vital tasks of the church, and some things we do are good and some are bad. I’m of the opinion that bad theology leads to bad praxis, just as bad ecclesiology leads to bad Christians. It’s become fashionable to write off the critiques of theologians as too academic or too highbrow or too elitist. Let’s be clear; everyone does theology. The question is good or bad theology.

There are many organizations that contribute to their communities in positive ways. If that was the only telos of the Church, I’d probably leave megachurches alone. I repeatedly apply the Barthian critique to megas because Barth is the last great theologian who lived at a time when the position and standing of the Church before the culture and government really mattered. Sometimes it is not the task of the Church to be good citizens as defined by the parent culture.

Comments

[jamie]

(clapping)

[Scott Jones]

In the last paragraph something concerned me. What of the liberation theologians, particularly the Latin Americans? Or the anti-apartheid leaders in the South Africa? Or MLK for that matter?

[greg]

I'm not sure you'd call Gutierrez a great theologian. Theologian, yes. Important, certainly. MLK. Not a theologian. Practitioner. Except to the degree that every pastor is a theologian and every practitioner has some sort of theology.