The “Chocolate Church,” said the sign we encountered on a trip to coastal Maine last summer. Although there is no denomination by that name, I know some folks who would be sorely tempted to become members were it to exist.
As we turned a corner, there it was, an imposing structure with steeples and spires, adorned with Victorian gingerbread. But it wasn’t the pretty, postcard white we associate with New England churches. It was, instead, a luscious, milk-chocolate brown.
The building, no longer home to a congregation, is now used as a community arts center and a performance hall. Across the country, former church buildings have been claimed for other purposes—a used bookstore, a condominium complex, an auction barn, and even a police station-cum-jail house.
Of course, churches are now meeting in some unlikely sites. Movie theaters, roller rinks, garages, dance halls, and even barrooms have accommodated thriving, vital churches. Church planters are notorious for their ingenuity and creativity. Who knows? Someday somebody may transform a chocolate factory into a church.
I keep thinking about what happened to the Chocolate Church. Here are some of my musings:
First, the experience points up the need to distinguish between the church building and the church, composed of the people of faith who meet there. Worship, witness, teaching, fellowship, and other ministry functions can indeed occur in any sort of building.
Second, that the Chocolate Church became an arts center for the community only after the church moved out symbolizes the notion that the church and the arts are incompatible. Many churches are indifferent or even hostile to the arts. But historically, the Christian church fostered the arts and saw its faith powerfully reflected in the works created with its blessing and patronage.
Unfortunately, for a long time churches have abdicated a central role in cultural life and largely left the arts without a Christian vision. Now there are signs that churches may have an opportunity to reclaim the role of patron and vision-giver and to serve once again as a community focus for the arts.
Third, it is ironic that the Chocolate Church is now billed as a place for entertainment—ironic, because that is what many contemporary churches are accused of being. Too often those leading the services are perceived to be “performing” for the congregation. Of course, worship ought not to be for anyone’s entertainment, except perhaps God’s. Seeking to make the church entertaining can indeed threaten the integrity of its faith and worship.
Yet I empathize with those who seek to reach and hold for Christ men and women deeply embedded in contemporary culture. Our entertainment-dominated society is largely unfamiliar with anything but the formats and categories of pop culture. Add to this the biblical illiteracy and lack of roots in the Christian heritage that characterize many of our neighbors, and it is easy to see why our church services must indeed be “entertaining” in every legitimate way we can devise.
Given my age and experience, I may never get the hang of some contemporary worship styles, but I am willing to try, as Paul did, “for the sake of the gospel.” I am confident of the power of the gospel to break into our “entertainments” and transform hearts and lives.
Finally, I am fascinated by the imagery of a “chocolate” church, a community of Christians together in ministry drawing men and women to itself the way a hot fudge sundae made with double chocolate chip ice cream and enthroned on a gooey brownie can attract certified chocoholics. For some, church is indeed associated with what is pleasurable and even irresistible because there they find spiritual sustenance and nurture. Others see the church like medicine, bitter but probably good for them. And there are those who look on church as utterly distasteful and perhaps poisonous, to be avoided at all cost. How sad!
I, for one, want to have a part in making the church a chocolate lovers’ delight.
