Like Chris, I played on the Evangelical field for a long time and so I can’t stand when someone tells me that my critiques of Evangelicalism are unfounded, unfair, and ridiculous.
I played the game.
I memorized the playbook.
I spoke the language.
I don’t spend my days in the cheap seats shouting at players on a field who are playing a game I never played.
Instead, I was a good player - I did what my coaches told me to do, acted in the ways that the referees and umpires told me to act, and played for the applause of the crowd.
AND.
I also saw (and I’m sad to say, sometimes played a role in) the pain, trauma, and baggage that the Machine of Evangelicalism can toss onto the backs of the people who align themselves with it.
Pain that comes from being outcast for thinking differently or asking questions.
Trauma that comes from the values of patriarchy, LGBTQ exclusion, and white fragility.
Baggage that comes from constantly being told that you’re a sinner who isn’t good enough, can’t do anything right, and needs to be believe a certain thing about Jesus in order to be accepted by the angry warlord we call “God”.
I remember one time when I was about to serve my very first communion to our congregation an elder came into my office and asked me my plan of attack in regards to an LGBTQ couple coming to church and expecting to be served communion.
“What will you do?”, he asked. “What will you do if this happens? It’s inevitable that it’ll happen one of these days in this liberal country we live in.”
“Um, I don’t know”, I said, “I guess give them something to eat like Jesus would have done?”
He told me that was the wrong answer and that a gay couple would not be welcome to the table unless they repented of their sins and turned straight.
I’ve seen church people flat out deny racism.
I know people who were traumatized as children because of doctrines like hell and theologies regarding the End Times, the Return of Christ, the rapture, etc.
I’ve heard pastors guilt jobless people into putting money in the offering plate as opposed to using it to buy groceries for their family.
I’ve seen church people defend every word that comes from the mouth of Donald Trump because he’s “draining the swamp” and gets free pass on … everything.
I’ve seen the Bible weaponized in all sorts of ways to justify all sorts of horrendous actions - war, the death penalty, police brutality, racism, hatred, bigotry.
I’ve seen women counseled to stay with their abusive husband and give him sex whenever he wanted it because it’s her obligation.
On top of that, Evangelicalism tends to set the pastor and leaders up on such a high pedestal that they are worshipped and expected to preach, study, counsel, plan, cast vision … over and over and over and over again without ever having a break or showing the smallest amount of weakness or vulnerability. More often than not the system sets pastors up to fail from the get go and then spits them out the back when they fall and finds someone else to take their place.
So, yeah.
I agree with Chris - it needs to be burned to the ground.
And what do we build in its place? As the fire burns out and the ashes are left behind, what do we begin to construct in its place?
I don’t know, really.
And while we’re at it, what about “Church”?
One thing I’ve been asking myself over the last 3 years of hosting this podcast is … do we even need church as we know it today? The early church gathered in homes without the need for massive structures and buildings that require endless amounts of money to keep up. They met in homes and shared what they had and supported one another. It had its problems, sure. And it also existed in a time that was 2000 years removed from modern day America. I get it.
BUT.
Maybe there’s something there? Maybe this is a path leading us to the way forward? And maybe “church” or “fellowship” or “community” or whatever you wanna call it can be done in homes and in phones?
Phones?
Huh?
We have a Patreon tier where for $12/month you get to be part of a Marco Polo group where we basically send videos back and forth throughout the work.
We ask questions.
We share doubts.
We ask for prayer.
We laugh.
We cry.
We wonder.
We dream.
We share resources.
We talk about what we’re learning.
… And its church, really. Right there on my phone I can see a small group of 10 or so people and I feel closer to them than I do to some of the church people I’ve known for 15, 20 years.
What if every week a different “member” was asked to share 10 minutes of what God is teaching him/her/them in their life?
What if when someone had a need we all pitched in to meet it?
What if we had monthly Zoom calls where we call got together in one big group and told stories and laughed and debriefed our month? Prayed for one another?
What if once a year we planned a physical get-together where we picked a place somewhat near to all of us and we planned a weekend retreat of sorts?
Listen - I’m not saying fellowship or church isn’t important - it is. But sometimes I feel like the system of Evangelicalism has tainted what we know as “CHURCH’ so much that the whole thing needs to be overhauled.
Chris Kratzer really has me thinking.
✌️
Glenn