Home of the Whopper

What are we to make of these not-just-big, but downright-humongous churches?

I would never attend a church like that,” said one of our staff as she opened the mail. She pointed to a panoramic photograph of the vast interior of one of today’s megachurches. “When our church has 150 people there on Sunday morning, it feels crowded.”

Another friend simply does not stop talking about the megachurch he attends: the preaching, the fellowship, the worship, the holiday extravaganzas, the efficiency of the parking-lot attendants—for him it is “heaven under one roof” and he is willing to drive an hour to get there.

Whether good or bad, megachurches provoke extreme responses. But frankly, when CT started out to cover the growing number of not-just-big, but down-right-humongous churches (see p. 20), we started out with our suspicions: First, seminary presidents had told us they felt ministerial students were being given a false model of ministry by the megachurches. Second, church watchers had complained that megachurch pastors were so powerful that they were accountable to no one. Third, we had heard complaints about Christians who seek anonymity in the megachurch. That did not mesh well with our ecclesiology.

But after hearing the reports of scholars who follow the megachurch movement, and after interviewing pastors of small churches in the shadow of megachurches, we are much less apprehensive.

If anyone had a reason to complain about megachurches, we thought it would be those with struggling ministries, trying somehow to compete with the nearby “cathedral.” But these pastors had few complaints. None of them thought bigness was necessarily badness. All of them felt that megachurches were, overall, a positive influence.

Here is what our “informers” told us was good about having a megachurch in the neighborhood:

• Burn-out relief. By attending a nearby megachurch, small-church parishioners who experience leadership burnout can take six months or a year’s time-out for recuperation and restoration without having to leave church out of their lives.

• Inspiration and education. Megachurches frequently provide practical in-service training to ministers, idea-sparking opportunities that recharge the enthusiasm and vision of small-church pastors.

• Confidence in evangelism. Having several really large churches in an area makes it sociologically more acceptable to be associated with religion.

Nevertheless, these pastors were cautious about two aspects of megachurch ministries:

• Institutionalism. The megachurch is primarily an organization, while the small church is more of an organism. Said one of the pastors, at the megachurch one occasionally feels that something other than the direct ministry to members—perhaps a television program or the pastor’s series of best-selling books—is really driving the whole organization.

• Running on hunches. While small churches associated with denominations have well-established patterns for polity, theology, and ministry, megachurches are largely experimental. Yet one of our interviewees compared a conference for megachurch leaders to “watching a bunch of people driving cars without headlights. Nobody really knows what they’re doing.”

We pray that before long, leaders of today’s biggest churches will have built up a Spirit-led track record and a Spirit-filled reservoir of common wisdom that will allow them to solve the megachurch’s problems and keep its ministry in focus.

By David Neff.

Despite a generally good report card in areas of compassion and mercy, the church has struggled along with the rest of society in determining how to care for the disabled. That is, we may express sympathy and varying degrees of compassion for someone in a wheelchair—we may even tout that person as an inspiring example of Christian grace—but when it comes to creating an environment in our churches where such persons may worship and study comfortably, we generally do just enough to get by.

You may test this assertion next Sunday by attending church in a wheelchair. If you manage to get into the building, chances are you will not be able to use the restrooms, get a drink, join your Sunday-school class on the second floor, or sing in the choir.

Regrettably, our unintentional neglect has compelled the government to get involved. The Americans with Disabilities Act of 1989 will most likely come to a vote during the current session of Congress, and it deserves more support than it currently is receiving from evangelicals (CT, June 16, 1989, p. 54).

Bogey With Benefits

Like most legislation-in-process, this bill has its problems, not the least of which is an effort to redefine churches as “places of public accommodation” rather than private institutions. In other words, under the new law your senator’s private country club will not have to install an elevator, but your church will. The better option is to draft a bill that mandates sensible and compassionate guidelines for public and private organizations.

Well-meaning Christian leaders have also warned that this bill, because of its vague language, could force churches to hire drug addicts and homosexuals (it probably won’t), and that the cost to include barrier-free features in church-owned buildings would be expensive (it most likely will).

Despite these concerns, we support the concept of government requiring churches and religious organizations to do a better job of accommodating disabled persons. We would have preferred that churches had shined so brightly in this area that exempting them from such legislation would seem obvious to everyone. But this has not been the case. Like it or not, we sometimes need a crutch for our virtue, a nudge to move us toward the good we know we should do. (Or hasn’t the $50 fine changed your parking habits when it comes to those spots saved for the disabled?)

Would a law making the church more user-friendly grease the slippery slope toward wholesale regulation of churches by the state (something we vigorously oppose)? That argument was raised years ago when churches were required to meet federally mandated safety standards (fire extinguishers, handrails on stairways, health-department-approved kitchens), but few today would object to such features. The scope of the proposed disability act admittedly sounds more ominous, but we are willing to take our chances on behalf of the 35 million disabled Americans, a significant percentage of whom are Christians.

That leaves the issue of cost. We recognize that barrier-free facilities may indeed increase the financial burden for churches and religious institutions. For smaller groups this could be prohibitive. We have no easy answers, but one thing is certain: The far greater cost of treating some human beings as less valuable than others will ultimately lead to moral bankruptcy.

By Lyn Cryderman.

America’s search for contentment goes on. In our age of avaricious materialism, anything that offers calm on the stormy seas of success seeking and busyness—even religion—is welcome.

Lately, however, we have spread the net of our search for peace-producing religion more broadly. It now includes not only the traditional practices of prayer and Christian worship, but also transcendental meditation (TM), Yoga, and Zen Buddhism. Counter-cultural eccentrics are not the only ones to experiment; these Eastern techniques are entering mainstream society, and even the church. Here are two of many examples:

1. Transcendental meditation has centers in virtually every American city, and over 600,000 Americans have paid the meditation training fee;

2. In December, a Leesburg, Virginia, judge ruled that a long-time heroin user could spend two years in a Zen Buddhist monastery in lieu of serving a five-year prison sentence. In the past, judges have offered criminals alternative service in social agencies and Christian organizations. But it is believed this is the first time a Buddhist refuge has been arranged.

Sensing a need for clarification, the Roman Catholic Church’s chief theological office, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, issued a 23-page document warning that Eastern religious methods can “degenerate into a cult of the body” and urged a return to proper Christian prayer.

We agree: Caution is needed. Although these techniques in themselves are not always sinful, and seem to help some people alleviate stress, they should in no way be seen as equivalents to or substitutes for prayer. Such practices are not theologically neutral.

Three questions may be asked, which will help distinguish authentic prayer, from the counterfeit:

1. Is this practice compatible with the words of Scripture? Prayer must be guided by this rule of faith.

2. Would this fit in with the practices of my local church? Even private prayer should take place in the context of Christian community. Any practice not supported by other believers should be suspect.

3. Is the name of God, revealed in Jesus Christ, clearly understood in this practice? Christian prayer intentionally focuses on a personal God as its referent.

Prayer by any other name should give us pause. Unless great caution is used, Christian dabblers in TM, Yoga, and Zen will be getting much more than they bargained for.

By Terry C. Muck.

Have something to add about this? See something we missed? Share your feedback here.