Renewal? Now that would be nice

LAST WEEKEND WAS the tenth annual Christian Renewal Conference here in the Chicago area. My appraisal of this one, as with most Church of God events, is mixed.

Was it great to see old faces, eat heartily, and get away from everyday life? Sure. (Doubly so for me, since I had been AWOL from the CoG for more than a year.)

Did I feel the the implied goal of the conference was met? Did I come away
feeling renewed?

No, not really.

Yeah, I know, you're not supposed to say that about church events, are you? You're supposed to say everything is awesome, spectacular, fantabulous. But isn't that attitude -- the attitude that we can't talk about problems -- a big part of the problem?

Now it could be that the non-renewed feeling was in part physiological in origin. I'd had little sleep during the week, and had to get up at 6:30 both Saturday and Sunday mornings to carpool to the conference.

But then, it wasn't just me. Conference attendance overall wasn't great. Many of those who showed up seemed to be going through the motions. There wasn't a lot of excitement, nor the sort of joy one would expect at an event whose aim was billed as renewal. (Maybe they were all tired too?) Moreover, the under-35 crowd was perhaps at an all-time low. Surely, "renewal" would include attracting and retaining younger people.

While I doubt any of the ten conferences to date has conferred any deep and lasting renewal among most attendees, at least in past years I could say there was great fellowship between and after the services to offset any shortcomings in the services themselves.

For example, until a few years ago, there were the always-fun barbecues at the Svehla house. In '99 and '00, some of us attending singles shared a motel room (co-ed style, but we behaved). The next year, a few of us went out dancing Saturday night, and on Sunday after the conference ended we spent the afternoon and evening downtown. We hung out at favorite coffeehouse of mine, walked about a mile down the Chicago lakefront, visited Navy Pier, ate Thai food, struck up conversations with strangers, and talked excitedly about anything and everything, making our time together truly memorable.

However, I can't say the same of this year's CRC. For one thing, the last two conferences have occurred entirely in the same facility -- no more gatherings at the Svehlas'. (In my opinion, that change has brought advantages but also disadvantages; more on that later.) And my own circumstances didn't allow for any extracurricular fun: I was carless and could make no plans of my own. Aside from that, the dearth of singles or folks of my age group would have put a damper on things anyway. The few under-35 folks who were present were only there Saturday, and they left fairly early.


THE CHRISTIAN RENEWAL CONFERENCES were started in 1996 by Ron Dart's Christian Educational Ministries. The idea was good, born of hopes of new beginnings for people newly freed from a corporate church organization. At its core, it's still a good idea. Those involved with this year's conference appear to have done the best they could with what they had. The organizers, from Church of God Downers Grove (Ken and Trisha Svehla, Paul and Loreen Blissard, et al.), put in lots of hard work. We had musical offerings from some talented performers. Dave Havir and David Antion gave very educative messages. In fact, a more appropriate name for these events might be "Christian Education Conferences."

Nothing's wrong with education, of course, but surely Christian renewal requires more than the delivery of facts to an audience in a classroom-like setting, which is the pattern for the CRCs -- and the pattern of CoG corporate activity in general.

Real renewal would require, among other things, unleashing the power of worship. But CoG culture, by and large, seems oblivious to what true worship is; its true purpose or purposes; the styles of music, or other modalities, conducive to real worship and meaningful to people today; and what scripture itself says about how to worship. It seems that these things were never firmly grasped by the Armstrongs, nor have their successors done much better.

The problem of imbalanced and anemic worship often stems from a root which David Antion covered in his Sunday message at the CRC:


THE TRADITIONS OF MEN.

The life and work of Herbert Armstrong were full of ironies, and surely one of the greatest was that while excoriating "traditional Christianity" at every turn, he was vigorously installing some of its most insidious and ruinous traditions within his own church.

Thanks to the uncritical accepting of tradition, many of us inherited

* certain accepted forms and styles of worship which act more to stifle the spirit of true worship, thanksgiving, and celebration than encourage it

* a pulpit-centered format in which the "minister" performs and the "laity" are mainly spectators

* Indeed, the very idea of "format": the notion, nowhere stated in scripture, that church meetings must follow a regular, unvarying format week after week

* Other seemingly trivial but subtly significant practices, such as the traditional arrangement of seating in the meeting room

Few Armstrong followers have questioned these traditional trappings, probably because they're such familiar and comforting features of the churchianity from which so many came. (While those not from a religious background may have simply accepted the traditions since, after all, this was "the True Church.")

This acceptance of manmade traditions as The Truth may in fact be the single greatest problem of the CoG movement, a wellspring of many other problems. The matrix of borrowed traditions continues to act powerfully but invisibly upon the churches. That is, after all, what tradition usually does: it structures, guides, directs the flow of human thought and action -- it's the cultural version of the unconscious. For that very reason it can be the worst form of tyranny. It tends to supplant thought and study, making our decisions for us, keeping us mired in the practices of the past simply because "it worked back then" -- or seemed to work -- or for the even less reflective reason that "it's what we've always done."

The Armstrongist style of worship, like much of the music itself, seems borrowed from early-20th-century Protestantism (a tradition itself heavily influenced by Catholicism). Here are some specific observations of mine based upon the worship at this year's CRC, and to my CoG experience in general:

1) Confusing worship with a musical recital. While I admire the talents of some of our musicians, I have never understood the practice of holding recitals of instrumental solo pieces which are not recognizable to most people -- certainly not to myself -- as worship or praise music. I have always felt those displays are better suited to a talent show than to a worship service.

Sometimes, too, vocalists choose songs which may have vague spiritual or "inspirational" overtones but do not exactly inspire or help others in worship of the Eternal.

2) Not clapping, then clapping. In an especially absurd paradox, CoG tradition proscribes the clapping of hands to the beat of the music (if there is one), yet encourages clapping afterward -- for the performer! This practice is backwards: it makes the performer the object of praise and renders the performance mere entertainment. It has nothing to do with worship. I don't think this tradition is prevalent in any Protestant denomination; frankly I do not know where it might have originated.

3) Lifeless worship. The notion that the only acceptable way to worship the Eternal is to stand stock-still, like prisoners or slaves chained together at the wrists and ankles, and sing hymns written between 60 to 500 years ago is ludicrous. In fact, in light of the starkly different sort of corporate worship prescribed and portrayed in the Bible, we should question whether this is an acceptable mode of worship at all!

In stark contrast to the tradition of eschewing emotion, the Bible tells us worship is all about emotion: It's about joy, about shouting, about loud cymbals, about horns and harps and lyres and tambourines. It's about moving, about clapping hands, about dancing. It's about getting as excited -- if not more excited -- about praising the Eternal than when your favorite team scores a touchdown. In this sense the Armstrongist tradition is, to borrow a phrase often used by Armstrong himself, "the DIAMETRIC OPPOSITE of what the Bible teaches!"

If you wonder why so many people -- particularly young people -- become disillusioned and leave CoG groups, this is one place to start looking.

A few years ago a woman in her late 20s, who belonged to the largest WCG splinter group, told me that she often found services so boring and depressing, she'd have to get up and leave: she'd go to the ladies' room, outdoors -- anywhere to escape. Or she'd simply not show up, opting instead to go to Starbucks and read her Bible alone. To her, church meetings seemed life-depleting rather than renewing.

Then there's the comment of a woman in her mid-30s who attended an independent CoG group largely comprising ex-CGI members. She wrote on an Internet forum, "In our semi-dead and non-happening church services, I feel as dead as the darkest winter."

Having been around the CoGs for 13 years, I can say, "I feel your pain."


4) Fixation with the past. The Psalmist sang: "I will sing a new song unto thee, O God" (Ps. 144:9), but entering a CoG worship service is like taking a time machine back 100 years. As a rule, new songs are shunned.

I know there may be practical reasons for this. Newer compositions of a commercial nature often require paying royalties for reprinting and performance. But there is open-source contemporary worship music available. Also, there's no reason not to solicit new music written for free by talented people in our own churches.

"But," some might say, "we can't exactly revise our hymnal every year. Do you know how expensive it is to have a set of handsome, hard-bound hymnals printed?" Who said you had to have handsome, hard-bound hymnals? Just admit it -- it's a tradition!

Anyway, other methods can be used to introduce new music, such as hymn supplements or, if suitable, the overhead projector.

In any case, to rely overwhelmingly on music from our great-grandfathers' day, drawn from a single cultural idiom, is not only a sign of cultural tone-deafness; it's just bizarre. (As is the fact that anyone should need to point out its bizarreness!) It's like wearing knickerbockers, silk top hats, pointy waxed mustaches, or hoop skirts.

"In my heart there rings a melody" -- but it's not of the sort Fanny Crosby wrote, nor is it likely she could have. (I'm speaking as one with musical training, including a course in composition.) Composers of the late 19th and early 20th centuries did what they could within the cultural and technological limitations of their day, but those limitations were significant. A composition which to pre-jazz ears may have sounded fresh and innovative, today may sound at best simplistic and at worst stilted and impoverished harmonically, melodically, especially rhythmically. Just like the automobile to the horse-drawn carriage, music today can do everything yesterday's could do, and much more.

Of course, there's a lot of mediocre contemporary music out there too. But thanks to the greatly expanded toolbox of ideas and genres and technology available today, the best of today's music is surely superior to the bulk of yesteryear's.

By no means am I a hater of all things old. From childhood I was exposed to great music of all kinds. In high school I learned the choral works of Handel, Mozart, Bach, Brahms, and others. I love some of the old hymns. One of my favorites is "A Mighty Fortress is Our God," with music by Bach. I even like some of old Fanny's work. (I haven't heard a Dwight Armstrong hymn I liked yet.)

We should know better than to suppose that a song is superior or more godly simply because it's old, or that the newer is inferior or less godly. We must never rationalize our own carnal attempts to freeze in place the music of a particular day by citing the permanence of truth or the unchanging nature of the Almighty. As the gentlemen of dc Talk sang in their classic composition, "Nu Thang":

My God is doin’ a brand nu thang
But since time began, he remains the same
Faithful, forever to his word
And solid, a cornerstone unstirred
But, look down through the ages and you will find
God doesn’t change, but he knows the time
From harp to piano, and song to rap
Ya know, god’s wit us, so we can not lack ...

Nor can we claim, as some in the CoG world seem to believe, that there is only one acceptable cultural tradition or style from which to draw worship music. In other words, it's not "of the world" just because it has a beat.


5) The message gets lost. Song is communication. When most of our worship music uses expressions and words such as "thee," "thou," "o'er," and "'tis" -- words which were obsolete in everyday speech even at the time the hymns were written -- what message is it saying about the Mighty One we serve? That he doesn't know what year it is? That his power to create and inspire ran out about 100 years ago?

What is it saying about us? Indeed, what is it saying to us? Does the language communicate much of anything at all? While there are a few standouts among the classic hymns that possess a universal, timeless appeal, much of this music says little to me -- and I'm used to it! What could it possibly say to those who aren't?

6) Formats that discourage participation. This point is one I won't belabor much right now, but it deserves at least a brief mention. The physical arrangement of a meeting space, particularly the way seats and people are arranged in a room, says something about the power relationships between those present. It can serve to silently direct our attention in various patterns and help make a gathering interactive or non-interactive, one-another-focused or focused on the man up front. Notwithstanding invitations to discussion, the traditional seating arrangement (seats lined up in rows facing the front) may serve to discourage open discussion by triggering lifelong conditioning associated with school and church: SHUT UP. LOOK STRAIGHT AHEAD. YOU ARE A SPECTATOR.

As I said, this is a bigger topic than I want to fully discuss right now, but I'll just say that it's one of many elements that were introduced by the apostate church, passed on into Protestantism, and were adopted by Armstrongism.


EVERYONE IS FAMILIAR with at least some of the above problems. Probably most of you reading this have within the last year complained, to yourself or to someone else, about one or more of them. But in my experience few people want to complain or criticize in public; in general, criticism is taken as evidence of a "bad attitude."

In my case, the above problems, and the lack of a forum in which to even discuss them in the local church, lengthened my stay away from church to over a year.( I had originally stopped attending simply because I found myself suddenly carless and broke last summer; I tired of all the walking and train-catching required to get to the services. I also figured that staying away for a while would help me study certain scriptural issues with more objectivity. But I felt ambivalent about returning, precisely because of the issues I've mentioned above, as well as others.)

I felt our local church had failed to capitalize on the seeming promise it had held upon its founding nine years ago. The above-mentioned "traditions of men" still held great sway: you could almost say the church was being automatically piloted by tradition.

I felt that progress away from the old traditions and toward a more biblical model (or, in cases where the Bible isn't clear or specific, traditions more suited to those we're trying to reach) was neither being made nor sought. Furthermore, we were making neither time or space in our meetings for such concerns to be aired. Several of my young adult peers have expressed similar concerns.

This seems to be the case not only in my local church, but in many of the independent groups that emerged from the WCG. In many churches, it seems, not much progress has occurred in the way of changing unbiblical and limiting traditions, or even doing the necessary thought, study, and discussion to see which are biblical and which aren't; which make sense and which don't.

I will take part of the blame for the worship shortcomings in my congregation, since I have musical abilities yet haven't contributed as much as I could. Nor have I put on any sort of pressure to advocate or advance the above-stated views -- I'd feel like I was playing politics. But hey, I'm advocating the change right here, right now. The first step to fixing a problem is making it okay to talk about the problem out loud.


ONE OTHER CHANGE has in my opinion affected the success of the CRCs. Previously, we'd held the services either at a private school or at the Park District facility; then in the late afternoon we'd go to a nearby private home (that of Ken and Trisha Svehla) for the cookout. We don't do that any more; instead, all activities on both days are conducted at the Oak Brook Park District shelter. To be sure, staying in one place carries some logistical advantages; and admittedly, the shelter is in a nice setting, surrounded by a very nice suburban park. But I think this change has had disadvantages as well.

I used to love hanging out at the Svehlas'. (Admittedly, the Svehlas themselves may have felt differently about the herd who would occupy their house for several hours.) There were the endless and endlessly amusing knick-knacks that gave the house a museum-like quality (some of which, I imagine, would be knocked off shelves or banisters over the course of an evening). There was the friendly dog Hercules (may he rest in peace).

The Svehla home gatherings made me think of the gatherings and feasts of the early church, which were primarily held in homes. I liked how the structure of rooms and seatings often separated cliques and prompted strangers to sit near one another, to mix it up, to feel comfortable. Seating in a living room is naturally conducive to group conversations. And of course, as in any home gathering, people always seemed to end up in the kitchen. (No one winds up chatting in the kitchen of the Oak Brook Park District Shelter.)

Environment has a lot to do with setting a mood and spirit and how people interact. A home has something a meeting facility lacks: it feels like, well, a home. Inviting someone in is an act of grace, generosity, hospitality -- gifts of the Spirit which the Svehlas seemed to have in abundance.

Renting a room, by contrast, is just renting a room: as at a motel, you sign, you pay, and you had better be out by check-out time.

And of course there was another big difference between the gatherings at the Svehlas' and those at the Park District Shelter: at the Svehlas', we could drink. That might make more of a difference than one might think. While alcohol may not go well with worship and teaching services (caffeine works better), nothing beats it for stimulating fellowship later on. It's not for nothing that wine is known as a social lubricant and is praised as such in the Bible itself -- with appropriate cautions against its misuse.

I always marveled at how the same substances which in the wrong company in the wrong place could lead to disaster, could in the company of brethren unleash the best and deepest conversation: about the Bible, spiritual matters, our own lives. It could release stiffness and inhibition, help break down cliques, help spark great friendships. Especially when you're in an environment like the shelter -- not exactly a cozy and welcoming place despite its rustic-looking exterior -- it's regrettable not to have the help that a couple of drinks might have provided. But at the Park District fieldhouse, alcohol is forbidden.


WHAT ARE THE SOLUTIONS to all these problems I speak of? Well, I guess that depends on whether you want real solutions or pretend ones. The only real solutions to some of these problems are radical ones. We need to radically rethink what the church, or ekklesia, is, how it's supposed to operate, what it's supposed to do. We need to "blow the dust off our Bibles" and study subjects that in all likelihood few CoGers have ever studied in depth. We've been coasting on autopilot, computer-guided by tradition, for long enough.