Over the past couple of years I have become troubled by the phenomenon, well-known among many Christians, known as ‘church-shopping’. Yes, you heard me right!
When people go Church-shopping, it is most often based on the premise that it is up to each one of us to find the church that suits us and our spiritual needs at the moment (and there are many different answers for different people of course, which may change at any time). This in turn is based on a more fundamental belief: that I already know what my needs are, and I simply need to find the church that will give me what I want.
Quiet or rocking? Liturgical or spontaneous? Big or small? Friendly or aloof? I will never forget the flyer that came through my door for a local church, which compared its plethora of worship services to different blends of coffee! There are no right or wrong answers for establishing Christian community and worship, it would appear, any more than an espresso is better or worse than a latte. There is only taste and preference.
In other words, we have taken what used to be understood as ‘a hospital for sinners’ and turned it into a shopping mall. In more Biblical imagery, we could say that we’ve turned the Temple into a marketplace. Hmm.
Perhaps that explains why it troubles me so much. Strangely enough, this unadulterated consumerism is what came to my mind when I read this, quoted in unerring guides:
Why do men leave one place and settle in another place? Primarily because they hope that they will be more fortunate in the other place. And in truth, from the worldly point of view of life and contentment, places can be different; better or worse. He, who does not hope in a better life after death, seeks a better sensual pasture in this life. But if we listen to the hearts of those men, who were able and capable to live in the so-called best places on the globe of the earth, we will detect dissatisfaction, sorrow and despair. They did not find that which they were seeking. They ate to over satisfaction in every place, and finally, still hungry, they gaze death in the eyes.
But look at the Christian saints! They sought places with the least earthly pastures; places that were “arid, impassible and devoid of water” isolated places and terrible places that attracted the least attention and for which no one competes. They considered every place on earth equally worthless, but they chose those places solely because they wanted to draw nearer in the spirit and mind to their eternal homeland. And, if one were to listen to their hearts, they would sense joy and contentment.
Yes, it is possible to leave one church and settle in another, and find a better ‘sensual pasture’: inspirational sermons, uplifting music, good friendships, children’s activities, and on and on. If things change for the worse, we know we can always pack our bags and head somewhere else instead. (It is a well-known fact that mega-churches are known for their ‘revolving door’ membership lists). We will ‘[eat] to over satisfaction in every place’, but we will probably never find what we were seeking, and we will die hungry. Why? Because a shopping mall can never teach us humility, or to tame our appetites.
As I’m discovering again and again, the only alternative to this trap is the pre-Reformation Christianity of the Apostles. Yes, it does sometimes seem like an impassible desert to attend long church services with only a handful of other people where there is no attempt to cater to my desire for instant gratification. Why would I choose that over a well-attended, dynamic, contemporary congregational church with a rocking band, powerpoint, and dynamic preaching? Simply because I see now now that ‘every place on earth [is] equally worthless’. I pray for the strength to ‘draw nearer in the spirit and mind to their eternal homeland.’
