Since having left our church of 6 years, my wife and I have visited many churches in an attempt to find a new church home. It's been interesting, to say the least, and sometimes very interesting.
(Please note that this blog does not represent any one church but the whole of my experience at mega churches. If you read something that offends you and you think I may be talking about your church let me assure you that I am not. Unless of course I am.)
The Mega Church
I still remember our visit to "Grace Zion Lakeside Fellowship Church of the Redeemed (South Campus)." We found it by seeing their Pastor's and his wife's faces blown up to jumbo size on a billboard by the highway. They were smiling gleefully, exposing their dentist's amazing teeth whitening skills. Ever since the pastor spoke healing over his gout, their dentist has been blessing them with 20% off all their dental needs.
I remember the parking lot being large enough to make the pedometer on my wrist vibrate halfway through our 5k to the entrance. The smells of hot car and asphalt brought back a vivid memory of leaving the Mall one toasty Texas spring day to search for my vehicle in a labyrinth of Minivans, Fords, and Kias. To clarify, by "mall," I must mean "Sam's Club," given that sad list of automobiles. (I would have thrown Hyundai into the mix, but apparently autocorrect believes Hyundai is both singular and plural and that doesn't sit well with me)
After our two mile hike to the front doors I remember the cold breeze we felt as we neared the church concierge who was a unique combination of hipster, weirdo, and Walmart greeter, albeit more polite. We discarded the marathon numbers on the back of our shirts as we entered something similar to a small, convention center type of building. My first impression was that it must have been a meat packing plant at one point, judging by the frigid temperature and the fact that my nipples ripped through my shirt the instant we entered.
There were coffee stations, bookstores, and even a lounging area, because we all know you can't "kick it with Jesus" unless you're lounging on a red suede couch that has just the right hint of old lady, sweat, and booty. I also remember the many marketers standing around in case you wanted to join one of their men's, woman's, marriage, singles, basketball, young adult, or couponing groups called "Life groups.” I need to clarify, the "life group" we were part of for many years was amazing, and we love our group family deeply, don’t get me wrong. I just find it funny that we call them "Life Groups" instead of "Bible Studies.” I suppose it's fitting, given the fact that most people who attend mega church “Bible Studies” don't “Bible” or “Study.”
As we walked toward the sanctuary, I could see the one hour church class on "how to be a greeter" was paying off nicely because the volunteers looked genuinely happy to see us there. We seated ourselves in a large auditorium full of happy faces and boisterous conversations. No one was conversing with us of course, because people can sense when you're an outsider in a church. Typically the flock treats you like that weird guy in your “Life Group” who quietly sidles right up next to you with a small paper plate of doritos, baby carrots, and a chip full of ranch dip while you're in mid conversation. Again, I love my group family but I don't think it's appropriate for anyone to try to spoon me as I'm telling someone about my week.
Once the countdown clock (in Diffused Extended Bold Font, naturally) hit zero on the three giant HD screens we were ready to go. The very young and cool looking worship team then hit the stage. The worship pastor reminded me of the guy that you just knew Blake Shelton and the other judges were going to turn their chairs around for but didn't. "Who's ready to worship Jesus today?" He asked as the worship show began. The music was very hip, catchy, and nary had a mention of actual theology. I didn't feel like I was actually worshipping God. I was, however, thoroughly entertained.
After about 25 minutes of hand raising (I'm a hand raiser so don't get your church panties twisted), oh-oh-ohs, whoa-whoa-whoas, and whoa-oh-ohs the Creativity/Co-Pastor took the stage. After reading about the widow's giving at the end of Mark 12, she went on for nearly 5 minutes about how the story reminds us that "whatever we give, God will return to us," which is not only absent in that story, but completely misses the point. Given the looks she was getting from the men and women in the congregation her makeup must have been on point though. Kudos to the volunteer who apparently has the spiritual gift of cosmetology.
As the offering was being taken up, we got to see a commercial for the up and coming “Life Group” study titled "BareDevil: Stripping the enemy of his power over you.” Ok, that last part I made up, but it totally sounds like a mega church “Life Group” study doesn't it? After all the announcements were over, the spotlight hit the stage to show one of the worship team members standing alone. The $40,000 lighting system was in full effect as she sang a pretty bad rendition of Katy Perry's "Firework.” The congregation thought it was great and gave a standing ovation. We also stood and applauded out of sheer peer pressure because we didn't want to be "those people" who stay seated while everyone else is standing. The Pastor made his way onto the stage continued applauding and said "Wow.” My thoughts exactly, "Wow...”
He welcomed everyone to his church and asked the very awkward question, "Are there any first timers here.” We raised our hands and he welcomed us. After being part of a church for so long you forget what it's like to have to raise your hand, then have the pastor and volunteers smile at you and give the "I'll be watching you during the altar call" look. After being instructed to "turn around and greet the people around" us (my favorite part because it's equally awkward whether you're a first timer or not) we were finally ready for the sermon. The message was full of jokes, stories, and encouraging proof texts. It was the perfect sermonette for the christianettes who were present. If there were three words I could use to describe the level of ear tickling going on in that place they would be "shock and awe." At one point I thought the Pastor was going to rip open his very hip plaid shirt to expose a blue superhero suit with a large “4” on it. "Surely this shepherd is Mr. Fantastic," I thought as I listened to him stretching texts the way I stretch an XL t-shirt from Old Navy. Although not biblically accurate, the Pastor was very energetic and was certainly passionate about what he was saying. It reminded me of that one time in Sunday school when an 8yr old went super saiyan talking about Pokémon when we were teaching about the Holy Spirit changing us.
The message had reached its conclusion. The piano player tried to covertly make his way to the stage to play “Amazing Grace” while the pastor closed in prayer. That part wasn't surprising, because we all know it's more spiritual when there's music in the background. The prayer touched all the same bullet points the message did, and then came the altar call. The pastor asked for every head to stay bowed and every eye to stay closed. I, of course, didn't keep my eyes closed because I'm not only a rebel, but a troll. As he asked for the people who wanted to "meet Jesus for the very first time or re-dedicate their lives" to raise their hand I watched as the ushers searched the crowd looking for anyone raising their hand and quickly pointed them out like the assistants to an auctioneer. All I could think of was that in their mind there was an auctioneer's voice saying "We got a drunkard! A drunkard! A drunkard right here! Can I get an adulterer? An adulterer? An adulterer? Salvation! Grace to the homosexual in the back!"
When service let out, we were herded in the direction of the lobby. I could see tables set up with volunteers playing the part of theological meth dealer. The Pastor had a plethora of books to sell. One that stuck in my head was a daily devotional that had only 130 days of devotions. My guess was that theology wasn't the only thing this guy wasn't good at.
As we exited the church building people were walking as fast as possible to get to their cars. It was reminiscent of how people run into Walmart on Black Friday. We fought our way through church traffic for about 45 minutes. If you've ever needed confirmation on the depravity of man, just try to get out of a mega church’s parking lot after 2nd service on a Sunday. The duration was actually helpful, it was more than enough time for my wife and I to fight over where we were getting lunch, then make up with each other.
I hope you understand, I didn't write this to make fun of Christians who go to mega churches or the people who serve at them. I only write this to express something I've learned in our search.
Finding a good church is hard.
