Once again we are reminded of the spiritual condition of America’s churches. Network and cable news outlets have played clips of Obama’s pastor until we are able to not only identify Rev. Jeremiah Wright but quote him and describe his ethnic style of dress. Now You-Tube investigators are finding many more instances of shocking speech in the pulpit. The excuse is they are relating to the lives of the congregants; these ministers are preaching a “social gospel.” It appears it is more important to be
RELEVANT than
REVERENT.Churches incorporate secular music into their worship services, spend hours on a spectacular multi-media presentation and a few minutes on a “relative” sermon. It is “hip” to use shocking language, gimmicks and games all to appeal and appear relevant to a dying world hurtling toward an eternity without God. There was a time when the Minister was one of the most respected men in the community, however, scandal and shady dealings have caused the ministry to become fodder for late night television.
As a child I attended a “non-relevant church.” Children were not ushered into state of the art nurseries, we learned to behave in church, worship God and listen to the sermon. The preaching didn’t stroke anyone’s ego; it wasn’t delivered with eloquent speech or in a dignified manner. I’m sure by today’s standards, the sermons were not “relevant” but they were powerful. Lives were transformed; sinners would either run to the altar or out the back door. No one left unchanged or commented, “What a lovely speech.” We clapped and raised our hands, tears flowed and noses ran, hair didn’t stay in neatly coifed up-dos, we called each other brother & sister, preachers sweated and hollered, legs went to sleep and knees got calloused from kneeling so long at the altar; yes, we actually had altars.
Entertainment? The entertainment was top of the line. There was nothing more glorious than the singing. I expected the trumpet to sound at any minute when Sis. Haggard played the piano and sang “
God’s Going to Shake This World Again.” The Welchel boys tuning their guitars and singing “down home” harmony made you want to stomp your feet. There were songs like “
I’ll Live On;”I was sure the real name was “Olive Vaughn,” in honor of Sis. Vaughn, “
Won’t We Have A Time When We Get Over Yonder”, and “
Heaven’s Jubilee” Then of course Bro. Johnson’s favorite, page number 400, “
Hold the Fort” , when we would all wave a handkerchief or Kleenex as we sang the last line of the refrain. It was always exciting to march around the church in victory to the strains of “
When the Saints Go Marching In.” Some danced, fell under the Power of God, spun around, jumped, and ran the aisles. Now, that’s entertainment!!!!!
People stood in the congregation to testify of the goodness of God in their everyday lives. Some spoke of powerful conversions and prayed they would “go the last mile of the way.” Who can forget Bro. Johnson’s rendition of “
The Old Violin” delivered in a broken Swedish accent, testifying of the change God had made in his life. We knew what it felt like to feel the awesome presence of God when Sis. Frieda gave a message in tongues, then wait with a holy hush for another precious saint to proclaim the interpretation.
The church was a haven for everyone from the least to the greatest. A refuge to Sis. King who would parade into Sunday School with her brood following close behind. Her family was the only one that took up more room than ours. She had 15 kids, mom and dad had 6. Needless to say, Sis. King usually beat mom to win the prize on Mother’s Day for the “Mom with the most kids present.” A place of acceptance to the man who sat on the back row and would get so excited he would let out a Hallelujah that sounded like “Hot dawg.” It was a source of comfort to Bro. Clutter whose comb-over would flop in the wind. It was the place back in 1966 where I was baptized in the Name of Jesus and filled with the gift of the Holy Ghost.
Tell all these people their church wasn’t relevant. There were no streaming backgrounds and flashing lights, we used hymnals. Starbucks coffee wasn’t offered but nothing could beat the fried chicken at church potlucks. Shocking words and illustrations didn’t flow from the pulpit, the minister stood with reverent awe as he delivered the words to the congregation he had received directly from God.
The sermons have become more polished, our music has progressed from the old hymns to modern praise & worship, solos and choir renditions are preselected and pre-practiced and we have trained greeters and ushers to welcome our guests as we reach out to meet the needs of our changing world. In the midst of all our sophistication let us not lose sight of the fact that God is a Holy God and all honor and glory belongs to Him.
Let us not become Relevant at the expense of Reverence.I welcome comments and memories of how church has been relevant to your life. email them to me at susan.niswonger@sbcglobal.net. I would like to include them in a later blog.