Digging wells in a bottled water world?

Like buildings, even the artifacts around us shape us. We hear and read about how are brains are being changed by the internet and the technological devices all around us. The internet and smart phones are easy targets to express how we are affected by these cultural artifacts, but there is one little cultural artifact that has changed us perhaps more than we aware. 

The water bottle. 

The water bottle gives us the impression that water is easy to come by. Walk into any gas station and there are cases of bottled water. I can buy a gross of bottles at a membership store and I can even buy water bottles in vending machines. With all this water everywhere, it is amazing that upwards of 75% of Americans are chronically dehydrated (cue the irony music).

The impact of the water bottle mentality has leaked into other aspects of our culture. We live in a time where there is little patience for the things that take time. Heck, we even have shorter attention spans than a goldfish. 

Over time we become accustom to get things quickly and those things that take time are dismissed for quicker solutions. There are water bottles all around us and we are always on the look out for the next water bottle device to come along. 

The Church is in the well digging business. The Church is charged to teach the ways of contemplation and meditation and prayer and patience and discipline and reflection and silence and solitude. These disciplines take time to develop and even take time to practice, which may be whey many of us are not interested in them. My concern is not so much that we may not be interested in them, but that we do not see the value of taking time to dig wells when there are so many water bottles around. 

For all the Church is, it is a well digging movement and institution. We dig for the Living Water of Life. The Water that quenches thirst and we never grow thirsty again. We know this is difficult labor and hard work, and we are not sure if the well we dig will reach the Water. We only trust that we are getting closer by digging deeper. 

Too often I feel like I am six feet under digging for water while my people stand on the surface drinking from bottled water wondering what the heck I am doing digging a well. I want to be a Church that picks up a shovel and digs. 

Are Church buildings an impediment to growth?

“We shape our buildings; thereafter they shape us.”

— Winston Churchill

My brother-in-law is an architect and since he began his studies some years ago, I was reminded of the quote to the left by Churchill. 

Taking this quote at face value and I see how this is very true for the Church. For instance, if you build a sanctuary that has pews all facing one direction and set up like a lecture, then when you enter the space you will expect to be lectured to. This passive form of participating shapes the way we understand how we are to "be the church". Church becomes a practice of cognitive work that hinges on the ability of the preacher to hold your attention for any period of time. We walk out of worship critiquing before we reflect on what we just experienced. We say things like, "good sermon" or "why don't we sing more songs like that?" or "I don't like this part of worship". And why should clergy expect any different?

When we build a building that feels like a movie theater, then we are going to have a congregation expecting a good show each week.

We have built Protestant church buildings in a way that shape us. Architecture is a powerful sermon, and that same sermon is preached every hour of every day of every year. So I give a little slack to the people who argue about the color of the carpet in the sanctuary. Carpet color may sound like a silly argument, but as Churchill points out, the shape of the building shapes us. 

My clergy peers and I talk about how to change the church and what the future of the church will look and feel like. We are talking in the same way previous generations talked about changing the Church. We talk about programs. We talk about sermon styles. We talk about pub ministries and young adult ministries. We talk about relevance and authenticity.  Could it be that perhaps what has been traditionally seen as one of the greatest assets of the Church, our buildings, are our among our greatest liabilities? 

It is hard to out preach brick and mortar.

Green Eggs and Ham and the Spiritual Practices

I have read Dr. Seuss' classic allegory titled Green Eggs and Ham a few dozen times in my life and each time I have read it I assume the reason that Sam-I-am refuses to eat green eggs and ham is because it is new. We talk about how we do not like new things and even how the plate looks a little odd to try green eggs and green ham. (I confess I am not sure if 'green' also modifies ham in addition to eggs.) Who like to try new things? Especially food. 

Then I began to listen to my Church tradition, United Methodism, and I began to consider that perhaps green eggs and ham was not a new dish at all. Perhaps green eggs and ham was a dish that has long been around but Sam-I-am is resistant to the past, not the unknown future. 

It makes me think about the green eggs and ham of the Church are not limited to the "new" ways of doing things but very much a resistance to try the recipes of the past. 

When was the last time you sat in silence? Fasted? Contemplated on one thing for longer than 15 seconds? Journaled your thoughts? Engaged in Bible Study that challenged you rather than just affirm you? Divested of your material possessions? Practiced simplicity? Consider worship as something that is offered rather than something to be judged and assessed? Allowed the Scripture to read you rather than you read the Scripture? 

I wonder if we in the Church might be the Sam-I-Am's not by turning our nose up at the "new" but at the very ancient?