Will Willimon gives a typically Methodist view, advocating for the holiness message and defending it by saying: “While we always need grace—grace defined by us Methodists as the gratuitous power of God to enable us to live transformed lives for God—Americans today are in desperate need of the disciplines of holiness.”
Halee Gray Scott chimes in on behalf of grace: “The beginning and end of holiness is grace. It’s grace that cultivates our appetite for holiness and grace that moves us along, inch by inch, toward the kind of person God has called us to be.”
Finally, Margaret Feinberg suggest what we really need is “Groliness,” a proper emphasis on both: “So are American Christians in need of a message of grace or a call to more holiness? What we need is a message of ‘groliness’—a rich, textured blend of both. Grace and holiness are best friends meant to walk hand in hand in our lives. Holiness reminds us of our need for grace. We will always fall short of the call to holiness without God’s free gift. Grace calls us to greater holiness and turns our eyes from self-righteousness to Jesus’ self-sacrifice.”
The five-fold book of the Torah is followed in the Hebrew Bible by a four-fold “history” of Israel called the Book of the Early Prophets.
TORAH
PROPHETS
Genesis
Exodus
Leviticus
Numbers
Deuteronomy
EARLY PROPHETS
Joshua
Judges
Samuel
Kings
LATTER PROPHETS
Isaiah
Jeremiah
Ezekiel
Book of the Twelve
As you can see, the one difference in the content of this section from our English Scriptures is the omission of the book of Ruth, which in the Hebrew Bible is found in the Writings.
Furthermore, this section should be understood, like the Torah, as a single book. It records Israel’s history from their entrance into the Promised Land under Joshua to the days of the exile in Babylon, a period of over 600 years. It has been called by three names:
The Historical Books: emphasizing the genre of the book — historical narrative.
The Book of the Early Prophets: emphasizing the major role played in Israel’s history by God’s Word as spoken through his prophets.
The Deuteronomic History: emphasizing how the promises and warnings in the book of Deuteronomy came to pass in the life of Israel in this period of their history.
The emphasis on these books as “prophetic” shows that they are works of theological testimony and not just a recital of events, persons, and nations. Though all history is interpretive, the Book of the Early Prophets is transparently so. Arranged into its final form by the exilic or post-exilic community, it represents an attempt to explain why the exile had happened and why the exiles should have hope for the future. Overall it shares the perspective of Deuteronomy, which anticipated Israel’s life in the Promised Land and subsequent exile, and pointed to the restoration of her blessing in “the latter days.”
As Terence Fretheim says, it was especially Israel’s relationship to the First Commandment that was central to the deuteronomic historian’s concern. The exile was not the result of God being unfaithful to Israel, but of Israel failing to prove loyal to their covenant with God. The main problem was not “disobedience” in the sense of failing to keep outward regulations, but “disloyalty” in their hearts that led them to worship other gods. Their hope was to be found in God’s promise to David.
There is obviously a vast amount of material in this long work. We cannot hope to do it justice in a blog post. Let me, however, suggest one simple key to reading the Book of the Early Prophets. One of the main characteristics of this book is that it is organized around hortatory speeches by key leaders and editorial comments by the author. These speeches function like doors: closing out one era in Israel’s history and opening a new one. Four themes are prominent in them:
God’s past promises
God’s past warnings
God’s promises for the future
God’s invitation to repentance and faith.
Here are some of the key speeches and comments in the book:
JOSHUA
JUDGES
SAMUEL
KINGS
Joshua 1
God speaks to Joshua
Joshua 23-24
Joshua speaks to the people
Judges 2
God’s Angel speaks to the people
Author explains time of judges
Judges 17-21
Repeated editorial comment: “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.”
1Samuel 2
Hannah’s prayer
1Samuel 12
Samuel speaks to the people
2Samuel 7
God speaks to David
2Samuel 22-23
David’s song
1Kings 8
Solomon’s prayer
1Kings 11
Ahijah’s prophecy
2Kings 17
Author explains why Israel fell
2Kings 21-22
Author tells why Judah fell
Hilkiah speaks to Josiah
These speeches, prayers, and editorial comments are like the “red ink” of the work. They not only move the narrative forward, but they contain the main themes the author was trying to communicate to the exiles. The Book of the Early Prophets has been called “The Gospel for the Exiles,” because it presents:
The story of human failure and God’s righteous judgment;
God’s provision of hope and salvation in a coming Kingdom ruled by a Son of David;
God’s invitation to hear his Word, repent, and turn in faith to him.
Stories are better than doctrine, at least in the way we have come to state doctrines. Over the course of my ministry, I have constantly fallen into the trap of thinking that being able to state a doctrine means that one has mastered its meaning. It’s great to be able to rattle off what we believe, to explain it, advance it, defend it. To be sure. To have it nailed down.
I don’t really think the more propositional teachings of the Bible are like that. They function more like a snapshot of a majestic mountain range. Doctrine to some extent accurately represents the truth, but stand there before that awesome vista and hold your little picture up against the backdrop and you can see the difference.
However, we tend not to do it that way. We have our doctrinal statements and we think we’ve actually climbed the mountain. We go to school and read a few texts and take tests and graduate and get ordained and think we’re qualified to run the museum at the foot of the mountain, where we teach others everything there is to know about the range. Or, as a lay member in a church, we read a few books, go to Sunday School, listen to sermons, and participate in Bible studies and suddenly we’re confident in our ability to be a mountain guide for others. Sometimes I wonder if any of us could even find the head of the first path.
But this post is not about doctrines, it is about stories and why I like them better.
Alan E. Lewis says it well:
Up to a point, the stories in both our Testaments prove effective because they are so readily understood. Utilizing characters and situations which are familiar, quotidian, and mundane, and events whose sequence can clearly be followed, they communicate with a simplicity and directness which is inevitably sacrificed when the truth they contain is subsequently refined into concepts and propositions — as must, nonetheless, be done, as we shall see below. Yet does not the power of the parables, indeed derivatively of all the biblical narratives, also rest in the fact that they do not understand too much? Stories are extended analogies; and by their very nature and form as stories they openly announce that they are only analogies, merely approximations and pointers to the truth. The directness with which narrative approaches us is matched, therefore, by the indirectness with which it approaches God. In consequence, stories both acknowledge that God is beyond all description and comprehension, and yet demonstrate vividly that God can be known and understood.
There it is: by their very nature stories admit their limitations, thus making us aware of our limitations and keeping us hungering for more. By them we can know, but by them we also learn that there is much we do not and cannot know.
We can never master the truth, only be more and more mastered by it. As Jacobs says, stories declare “with ‘indirect directness’ the truth of God, announcing the gospel which theology must then elaborate, while indicating the mystery which theology must not then violate.”
That is why stories have priority in the Bible. That is why stories should have priority in the faith formation of our lives and churches.
Keep the snapshot. Put it in an album and pull it out and look at it now and then as a reminder of the general beauty and majesty of the mountain. But don’t ever stop telling the stories, which transport you to the mountain and leave you breathless in the climb.
They say you can’t go home again, and they’re right. But you can visit, and sometimes that’s enough.
Last weekend, I went back to Galesburg, Illinois for the first time in over forty years. Our family lived there from the time I was a baby until I completed fourth grade. We lived in three different houses, two of which I remember. The third was my favorite of all the houses in which I’ve lived. That house and that neighborhood remain vivid in my memory to this day. I’ve written about it before, in such pieces as “Seven, and It’s Summer.”
I had the chance to tell that story and to talk about a number of other memories with my best friend from those days last Saturday in a coffee shop in downtown Galesburg. We talked about the endless backyards in which we played, our trips over the brick streets on our bikes to buy baseball cards in the little corner stores, playing basketball in our driveway, looking up to the high school kids who reenacted the World Series with fast pitch wiffleball games in their driveway across the street, and memories from Bateman School, where we attended.
After I moved, Mark and I made a few trips to spend weekends with each other. The last time I saw him and hung out with the guys from the neighborhood was when I visited his house as a young teenager. We’ve only seen each other once since then, but when I knew I was going to be near town last weekend, I wrote him immediately and made plans to get together.
What is it about certain people and times in your life that are so special?
Mark and I can sit down and talk as though we were nine years old yesterday. The scenes are as clear in my mind as if they just happened, and he remembered them too.
It turns out our old house still has the same siding on it that it had fifty years ago. The willow tree that I used to swing on out back is gone, but the one next to it, with the split trunk that provided a young boy a place to curl up and think about life is still standing and much taller. The two and a half car garage has been painted white, and the basketball goal is one of those portable ones off to the side now rather than a backboard on the garage like we had. I told Gail that this was the garage I jumped off while holding an umbrella after seeing “Mary Poppins.” Saturday, I walked around back and saw where I used to nail my grandpa’s catcher’s mitt so I could practice when no one was around to play catch. Mark remembered that ancient mitt too.
The street still turns to brick just down from our house, and seeing it, I could almost hear and feel the rumble of my bike wheels on it. It used to be lined with majestic elms before the disease took them, but otherwise the neighborhood looks like time stood still. It was kind of sad to me that no kids were out playing in the yards or on the street last Saturday. That was about the only thing missing.
My world was fairly small then; just one street, school a few streets over, and some places around town where we took extended adventures on occasion. But it was a world, a rich world of life and friends and stories and imagination.
We drove by the church where I was baptized and where my family attended back then. That I don’t remember too clearly, but I take solace in the fact that God knew me and loved me long before I was consciously aware of him. It wasn’t long ago that my mom sent me a couple of books which used to sit on my parents’ bookcase: one about Jesus and the other about the twelve disciples. My grandma had given them to me as baptismal presents. I do recall looking through those books with interest as a young child.
I have been blessed to have several incredible “worlds” in which I’ve lived over the years (see “Moving” — a post that talks about that). All of those worlds, the people who lived there, and the stories we made together have combined through a wondrous alchemy to shape me into who I am, for better or worse.
Last weekend I was a young boy again, riding my bike with my best friend over brick streets. Not a care in the world. There, together in a world that I may have left, but which will never leave me.
New Covenant worship can take place any place and any time. There is no setting specified in the scriptures, neither is there any arrangement of worship externals that we are told to imitate.
Our Roman Catholic friends have a very intentional- and quite fascinating- approach to worship space that seeks to place every house of worship in a pattern that is continuous with the revelation of God in the old and new covenants. Evangelical worship space design is certainly affected by this, but our approach to worship space is more influenced by the pragmatic concerns of worship, the centrality of the Word and the various traditions that influence a particular congregation.
There is nothing in evangelical worship that demands an abstaining from features that might be considered “Catholic.” However, it is likely that as reformation influenced Christians and evangelicals with particular distinctives there will be some attention to other traditions- some local, some historic- that will influence the arrangement of worship space.
What is important is to know that the evangelical worship space is free to be as simple or as complex as a particular congregation may desire it to be. There should be a new covenant sense of freedom in arranging and rearranging the worship space. Evangelicals should understand the concept of sacred space, but in a way that emphasizes the new covenant fulfillment of old covenant designs.
What should a worship space be called? A sanctuary? A worship center? An auditorium? These choices may reflect prevailing theology in the particular congregation, but none are Biblical mandated.
Following an evangelical understanding of the Gospel, however, I would say that an evangelical worship space should, at the minimum, contain:
A table for the Lord’s Supper. (It is unlikely any evangelicals will comfortably refer to this as an altar. I believe this should never be done.)
A baptistry, in keeping with the confessional understanding of the congregation. For some churches, a baptistry may not be possible because of cost or location. (Point to the sprinkling and pouring Protestants.)
A pulpit. Centrally located pulpits speak the centrality of the word in Protestantism, but a split chancel is no hindrance to the centrality of the Word.
A public copy of the scriptures. This recognizes that the Bible is the church’s book, and not just our individual book.
Instruments that are NOT centrally or distractingly located. Again, for some congregations, this is not an issue. I do object to the locating of an ostentatious band or organ in a central visual position.
Art that complements the worship space and is, again, not located in a distracting way. Banners, etc. should flow naturally into the space and not dominate it. For many evangelicals, a cross- not a crucifix- is an appropriate central focus of a worship space. I agree.
No flags of any kind.
Projection Screens are currently becoming a central feature of many worship spaces. Obviously, there are advantages and disadvantages to their use that will be discussed when we address hymnals and singing. My point would be that screens should be small, retractable and, to whatever extent possible, not EVER placed as a permanent visual presence in the worship space, even if this requires some temporarily distracting movement. The similarity of a large centrally located screen to a movie theater is not insignificant.
Sound systems should operate by the same rule. They should not dominate or distract, but complement and blend in. Over amplification is a worse error than insufficient volume. For many evangelical churches, a limited budget and frequent changes in the worship space will mean that a set of movable speakers may be the best choice. Again, the “club” atmosphere of large and distractingly placed amplification is not helpful.
The same is true of special lighting. What lighting options are used should blend in and not dominate, distract or make the worship space into something else. The temptation to play with sound and visuals is too much for some worship leaders. Restraint is commendable.
Seating is a matter that depends on many varying factors, but there is nothing wrong with comfort, and much wrong with discomfort and a lack of easy entrance and exit. There is much to not like about pews, and much to like about a good collection of chairs that can be rearranged.
I would mention that evangelical worship is free to utilize a great deal of variety in means and presentation, so there is much to commend a worship space that can be easily changed into whatever form is needed for various kinds of presentations. Again, we aren’t looking at our worship spaces as cathedrals, and most churches will not be able to have multiple spaces for multiple kinds of services. If a Maundy Thursday or Good Friday service requires flexibility for rearrangement, drama and effects, that is nothing to be avoided.
A worship space for evangelical worship should be flexible, simple, usable by many kinds of ministries and kept free from distractions that could impede its central purpose of a gathering of God’s people around God’s gifts.
NOTE: Someone asked where I got the liturgy bug as a Southern Baptist. Here is Highland Baptist Church, Louisville, where I was on staff for 3 years.
NOTE FROM CM: Michael’s entire series on the Evangelical Liturgy is available in the archives. The simplest way to access all of them (plus other articles on the subject) is to go to the Categories menu on the right side of the page just above the Blogroll. Pull down the menu and choose “Evangelical Liturgy.”
This weekend, Gail and I traveled to Davenport, Iowa to visit St. Paul Lutheran Church. The Rev. Dr. Peter W. Marty is the senior pastor there, and they have a wonderful ministry in their community, to those entering the ordained life, and in needy places around the world.
I encourage you to visit their website and learn about this congregation. Get to know Pastor Marty as well. He is the former voice of Grace Matters, the ELCA’s fine radio program that was unfortunately discontinued in 2009. You can still go to their website and download archived programs. Follow the link above and you can access his writings as well.
I had many reasons for wanting to visit St. Paul during this month when I am between assignments in my practical work toward ordination. One of those reasons is that I wanted to see and participate in worship in St. Paul’s remarkable sanctuary.
Here is what the church website says about the space, built in 2007:
Local artisans crafted furnishings specially designed to communicate a faith grounded in the Word of God.
Step into the Sanctuary through the large wooden processional doors. The weighty 10-foot doors are crafted with 95 simulated “pegs” to mimic the 95 Theses that Martin Luther posted on the doors of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany, in 1546.
The eternal light hangs in the Sanctuary threshold. It signals that this is a place where the Lord dwells. The constancy of the flame represents the ever-present nature of Christ.
The central bronze cross is accented with blood-red squares of art glass. The Sanctuary aisles and seating are oriented to the cross – signifying its centrality for our lives.
The communion table invites all people to share in the goodness of the Lord’s Supper.
The baptismal font flows with the lifelong gift of baptism. The design echoes the prow of a ship (or navis in Latin) – a good “naval” image for people who splash daily in the baptismal promises of God.
Ten stained glass windows – in the south exposure of the St. Paul Sanctuary – dazzle with light. They tell the story of the life of Jesus – born to live among us, crucified on a cross, resurrected, and still working through us. A much larger window, depicting Christ’s ascension, is mounted within the tall east window.
These Gospel-narrative windows were originally commissioned for the 1952 Sanctuary. Glass artisans restored the windows for their 21st-century home.
“The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him.” (Luke 4:20)
* * *
Rather than meditate on the story told in today’s text, I’d like to riff on this one sentence and think about the spaces in which we meet to worship. This sentence communicates well the purpose for the rooms in which we gather for worship as Christians:
They should be designed so that they fix our eyes on Jesus.
I am a traditionalist when it comes to the sanctuary. In my opinion, it should be a different kind of space than any other we encounter in our daily lives. It should be a space designed to communicate Christ. That’s the bottom line.
Saying that does not commit us to any particular level of “artsyness” or “churchiness” — I have seen gymnasiums transformed into spaces that encouraged a focus on Christ, and I have seen elaborate sanctuaries that did not. However, what is unacceptable is the sentiment that it doesn’t matter where we meet or how we set up the place of worship. Sure, Paul and Silas could worship in a jail in Philippi, but they didn’t have any say in their surroundings. We usually do, and if we do we ought to make sure they direct our attention to Jesus.
In my Lutheran tradition, this means that the sanctuary should draw our attention to a few important things that emphasize the central truths of our faith:
The Altar. By placing this symbol front and center, we show what (or better, Who) is at the heart of our faith. God is really present with us through Christ in worship and gives us sacramental grace. We direct our attention to him right there at the front and center of the room and offer him our prayers and praises. From him there we receive grace through his gifts of bread and wine. There we present our offerings. From there we hear his words of forgiveness and benediction.
The Pulpit. By placing this piece of furniture prominently in the front, the Word of God’s grace in Christ, the Gospel, stays before our eyes as well as our ears. I am in favor of substantial pulpits, not merely lecterns on a stage provided for a speaker’s convenience. Jesus the Living Word is proclaimed to us through the life-giving Word of the Gospel from God’s written Word the Bible. We do not come to hear a motivational speaker or rhetorician, but one who holds forth the Word of Life. For this reason, I also think preachers should be robed, so as not to draw attention to themselves, but to present themselves “in uniform” as those who represent the King and his Kingdom.
The Font. The font should always be visible and prominent in the sanctuary. Worshipers should pass it either when entering the nave (the place of the congregation) or when approaching the chancel (the place of the altar). This is a visible reminder that we can come into God’s presence to worship only because we have been washed clean through baptism, having died with Christ and having been raised to walk in new life (Hebrews 10:22, Romans 6:1-4).
The Cross. “For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, but we proclaim Christ crucified…” (1Cor. 1:22). The sanctuary should have a cross that is prominent and visible to all worshipers, for our focus when we gather should be on the One who loved us and gave himself for us. Churches for the past generation have done away with crosses and other religious symbols, and in my view they have thus communicated that their gatherings are more about signs of power or the teaching of wisdom than about a crucified Savior. We must instead be relentlessly insistent about this: our sanctuaries should express that our services are about the Jesus who died for us that we might have life.
Other Considerations
As much as possible, the sanctuary should be a place of light. Natural light through glass and stained glass reminds us that we have received the light of life and are children of the day and not the night.
Two sanctuaries that I love actually have large glass windows on the front wall, behind the altar, so that the backdrop for the chancel is filled with natural light. The first is Denise Spencer’s Catholic church in Kentucky, where the windows behind the altar allow the congregation to see the beauty of God’s creation. This sets Christ’s redemptive work in the context of the world God made. The second is the chapel at Lutheran School of Theology in Chicago. Behind the altar are windows through which the congregation looks out on the busy streets of Chicago. This reminds them that the Gospel they hear and receive in the sanctuary is to be lived and proclaimed out there, in the real world of daily life.
Those who provide music for worship should not be front and center, but should either be off to the side or in the back. A worship service is not a concert, and the musicians should not be prominent. The chancel is God’s space and should be reserved for altar and pulpit — it is not a “stage” for performance.
Artwork, icons, statuary, and other decorative elements should be kept as simple as possible so that they communicate clearly and definitely and point to Christ and the Gospel. I personally think that such things as stained glass windows which tell the Biblical story or which follow the stations of the cross or another theological scheme are wonderful aids to worship and understanding, especially for children. Using the colors of the liturgical season tastefully in the sanctuary can be a helpful way of visualizing the story of Christ as well.
And may I say once again: none of this need be elaborate or “high church” or ostentatious. Indeed, in most cases I think it better if our sanctuaries have a simple and natural feel to them, so that our intentions are clear that what we do is about Christ and not about showing off our sophistication.
May we do all we can so that when people come to worship, their eyes may be drawn to Jesus and fixed on him.
The week that was is no more, and the week that is to come has not yet. But for some reason, the kitchen is really a mess right now. So before the week that isn’t becomes the week that was, and before I tackle a stack of dirty dishes, what say we sally forth into the region of space and time we like to call … Saturday Ramblings.
Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. We won’t get fooled again … that is, until the next election. Until then, remember this my children: Barak Obama is the very best president of the United States that we have. We are commanded to pray for him. And, according to Andy Stanley, we might want to call him our Pastor-In-Chief. Really. Adam Hamilton thinks President Obama would make a good preacher. Apparently because he can cast a vision and inspire people. I guess that’s what pastors are supposed to do. Cast visions and inspire people.
President Obama’s picture graced the front pages of most newspapers this week, not only in the United States, but around the world. It was inauguration week, after all, and he is Barak Obama, after all. But to see his picture on a pair of Air Jordans? Really?
The prayer at the end of the inauguration ceremony caused no end of trouble. First Louie Giglio was bounced for something he said in a sermon twenty years ago. Then the man who took his place did a little preachin’ in his prayin’. I wonder if it is time to do away with the benediction at these events before someone gets their eye poked out.
I am tired of hearing people I work with say that God is talking to them like He talked to Moses at the burning bush or like He talked to Abraham. I’m weary of people saying God speaks directly to them about mundane matters of reasonable human choice, so that their choices of toothpaste and wallpaper are actually God’s choices, and therefore I need to just shut up and keep all my opinions to myself until I can appreciate spiritual things. I’m tired of people acting as if the normal Christian life is hearing a voice in your head telling you things other people can’t possibly know, thus allowing you a decided advantage.
I mean, if all this were really happening, wouldn’t these people be picking better stocks?
I’m weary of immature college students and high school kids going on and on about what God is saying to them as if they were up there with the authors of scripture. I’ve had it with Christian musicians acting as if every lyric they write is a message directly from God and free from the possibility of mediocrity or poor taste. I now hear preachers who preface their sermons with an appropriate selection from CCM, rather than with scripture. I mean, is there really that much of a difference?
I’m burned out on Christians telling me about the next big thing God is going to do, as if they really know. I’m tired of Christians predicting the future and being consistently, continually wrong, but acting like they weren’t wrong. If you said that on New Year’s Eve the east coast was going to fall into the ocean because of divine judgment and it didn’t happen, you were wrong. Really, badly, embarrassingly wrong. So why can’t you act like you are wrong? Why am I so sure you will have more absurd predictions next Sunday?
I’m worn out on people doing weird things that aren’t in the Bible and saying it’s the “leading of the Spirit.” Falling over. Acting drunk. Jumping around like a wasp went down your dress. I’m tired of turning on the TV or the radio and hearing Christians making more noise than a riot at a mental hospital. I’m out of patience with Christian spirituality equaling some form of clown college graduation.
I’m seriously fatigued from constantly hearing reality explained as spiritual warfare between angels, Christians, demons, and various conspiracies. The drama of blaming everything from illness to bad credit to all your bad choices on the devil is getting old. I’m tired of people being delivered from demons when their problem is their own rebellion, stupidity, meanness, and determination to get their own way.
I’m tired of God being the bag man for everything ever done by some guy who didn’t want to answer questions about right and wrong. I’m tired of God directing people to do things that, uh…actually are not all that ethical or are just plain evil. I’m tired of having to tell my kids that “Yes, so and so said God told them to do it, but that’s not what Jesus should do or you should do.” I’m annoyed at the attention weirdo Christians get, and the obligation I supposedly have to love them anyway.
Let me use some bad language: “Normal.” Dare I bring up that word? Isn’t the Christian life a constantly supernatural life? A frequently miracle-filled life? A life of divine direction, healing, and signs? A life where you (the Christian) know all kinds of things that ORDINARY people don’t know?. A life where you (the Christian) are in on the future, in on the prophecies, under the ministry of anointed prophets who are plugged into the big plan? A life that is a battleground of constant demonic assault? Aren’t Christians supposed to have supernatural knowledge of Kung Fu, and be able to hang in the air and…….well, maybe not.
Isn’t the Christian life the “Victorious” life? The “Purpose Driven” life? The “Spirit Filled” life? The life with Christ living in you and through you? It’s not a normal life, and it’s not ordinary. Right? Do I get an “amen?”
Or maybe you are like me. You are an ordinary Christian living an ordinary life. You don’t hear voices, see visions, or believe you are under constant attack by demonic forces. You may have some experiences that you call supernatural or miraculous, but they are the exception, not the rule. When you pray for people, things usually don’t change; you change. You have no authoritative insight into what is going to happen in the future. You suspect that if you were filled with the Spirit, you would love God and people more, and do the right thing more often. You’d be more like Jesus. You wouldn’t be running around in circles pointing out angels on the roof. The fruit of the Spirit would make you a person others would want to be around, not someone who would frighten animals and small children.
Diana Butler Bass once asked an executive of a coffee company how many choices were possible in one of his stores. He said there were nearly 82,000 possibilities for a drink from the menu. I drink my coffee black, but there are apparently 81,999 other choices.
Are you telling me that life and human behavior is just as it ever was?
Are you telling me that a mundane fact like this hasn’t changed the world?
I’d like to posit something very banal here today with regard to our discussion on “Losing Our Religion.”I think a big part of why we are seeing people move away from organized religion in the U.S. is really quite simple. Are you ready? Here it is:
Today, people have choices.
Choices, choices, and more choices. In my opinion, churches in the United States have not adequately reckoned with the fact that we live in a new world, a world dramatically different than it was fifty years ago. Today we live a world of virtually unlimited choices and options.
We’ve come so far that we can hardly fathom a culture like it was when I was a child — when there were just three television channels, three car companies, only a few places where one could find fast food, and hardly anything was open on Sundays. People listened to AM radio (only) and got their news at certain times of the day when the newspaper arrived or a news program was broadcast on TV. If you stayed up past midnight, there was nothing to watch but a static test pattern. Communication was nowhere near instantaneous and the means of communication were few and fixed — land line phone, letter, face to face.
Shopping choices were limited (no malls! no big box stores! few national chains! no Amazon.com!). Eating out options were limited, information access was limited, and entertainment choices were limited. Heck, the only diet soda was Tab (yuck!), and when you ordered coffee you got it black, or with cream and/or sugar.
Even the possibilities for where and how one might worship or practice one’s religion were limited. Churches and other religious institutions were more likely to be based on historic traditions and practices than on the “felt needs” or consumer preferences of the community. More people lived in communities where there were certain expectations about religious practice, so there were pressures of obligation that constrained one’s comfort in making alternate choices. And there certainly weren’t as many options on a Sunday for Christians to choose.
However, today people have choices like they’ve never had before. These choices are available because of many factors, but I think three are foremost:
Michael Spencer’s classic post: 
The Internet Monk Archives 