Monday, February 27, 2006

The fine line between Branch Davidians and a good presbyterian

How strange our songs of faith must seem to the lost. I was struck by this thought after two recent events in my life.

The first event happened Saturday night. I was flipping through radio stations while driving and came across a Christian station that eventually started playing a song with what sounded like a riotous crowd of purple-haired TBN people singing:

"Behold he comes,

riding on the clouds,

shining like the sun at the trumpet call

So lift your voice,

it's the year of Jubilee

and out of Zion's hills salvation comes!"

The second experience involved my pastor saying that we are now dealing with the first major "unchurched" generation of Americans in history, meaning more people than ever have never been exposed to the church or the Gospel. Being a believer, I understood the message of the above noted song, but I couldn't get over its strange language and wondered what it must be like to be an unbeliever listening in. Christians speak a different language. This became clearer to me today after hearing my pastor's words. I'd imagine someone would need a translator or Christian phrase book to make sense of the mess, but more than likely I think I would equate it with some cultic chant or incantation by an extremist group like the Branch Davidians. Imagine this tune if you will.

"Go grab your gun,

barricade the doors,

fix the Kool-aid drink in case we lose the war..."

Scripture says that we are different from the world, that there should be something that is noticeably peculiar about us. And it's true that salvation does enlighten us to true reality and that makes us speak a different language amongst ourselves. Our songs of faith express things that are very hard to grasp and are as much or more for our own benefit than they are to worship God. But there is so much of American Christendom that makes little or no sense to the unbelieving world and would rather only speak its own language, and many of those believers (denominations, etc.) are fine with being enigmatic. They may sing about salvation coming, but if they don't attract new believers will they care enough to change their methods? If they are often viewed as crazies talking about being "born again" and "saved" will they seek to find ways to make their message more understandable or will they did in their heels and adopt a martyr complex?

I probably sound like Brian McLaren's book New Kind of Christian, but I'm not advocating his view. Much of McLaren's view bothers me because it seems he wants to leave all of tradition in favor of "a new kind of Christian." I love my spiritual heritage. I love the old hymns and the phrases that must sound strange yet so easily describe my feelings or experiences. But I think if Christians believe what they say they believe they will also have to sacrifice some of their oddness in order to make inroads to the unchurched. I don't think America's traditional methods can work long-term without sacrifice.