I’ve been an engaged observer of the church in America and it’s interaction with the culture in which it is immersed for some years now. Last week, I watched through news articles and social media as Christians in America convulsed, reacting with deep emotion, ranging from anger, to sorrow, to bitterness, some even to satisfaction all in response to the Supreme Court’s rulings on DOMA and Prop 8.
On the other side, as the previously linked article noted, there was jubilation. One quote I read in the social media wash of commentary was from an advocate of these laws being struck down, and it read something like this: “And now, in respect for our opponents, a moment of silence, as they have lost ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!”
The sentiment struck me as extremely myopic, though I can’t fault the person for being so. After all, Christians in America have not been overly sympathetic to those with whom we’ve disagreed, nor have we communicated our values or motivations in a way that was easy for others to understand, even if we do differ dramatically.
So, to those outside of our tribe, let me clarify the motivation for the strongly negative reaction of some in the Christian community. They have lost an American culture that more accurately reflects their deeply held religious beliefs. This had become an expectation for many. An inheritance that they believed they had a right to pass on to their children. It feels to them that people have stolen their lives, or at least their lifestyles, and that of their children. And that of their grandchildren. They grieve the knowledge that their line of descendants will look more like their “opponents” than like them, at least in what they value and accept as “normal.” They know they’ve lost something significant.
That begs the question, “Do these people have the right to such an expectation?” and of course, different worldviews collide in the answering. Hopefully in a respectful way, but if history is any indicator, probably not.
So let me now speak to the Christians of our nation, my brothers and sisters in Christ.
Why do you expect that the world not be worldly? Is it wise or in any way Biblical to expect that those who do not hold your values to act as though they do?
Let me share with you when this American culture you value so greatly was lost. It wasn’t last week. Though I can not point to a single event or even a string of events, I can easily say that the American culture was lost to the American church when the church began to rest on the expectation that the culture would look like it instead of working to ensure that the culture would actually be transformed by the power of the Gospel.
You see, by and large, we’ve become quite a secluded lot. Not all of us, to be sure, but undeniably most of us. We prefer the holy huddle of the frozen chosen in our Sunday gatherings. A smaller bunch than years before, meeting in aging buildings that are far larger than are necessary and falling apart because we can’t keep them up as well as we once did. After all, we are older, on fixed incomes, and our children have left our buildings.
And those large buildings where some of our children attend are flooded with just that: attenders. Loads of people who show up, sing, drink lattes and frappuccinos, listen to whatever is being served up this week, and then go home and go about their business.
Again, not all of us are in that situation. Not every church looks this way. But to say that the majority of American Christianity doesn’t fit one picture or the other is, to put it not so gently, not really in touch with reality.
Still, I want to offer a word of encouragement to us all. We believe in something miraculous and transformational. We don’t have to be the people who simply shout dismay at those who value different things and see the world contrastingly. We can be the people who offer the Gospel to people who need to know that God does not hate them because they are pushing back against Him, but loves them in spite of it.
The power to change the world, is in the Gospel. That is not a word commanding conformity to an outward morality. It is a word of redemption. That healing can come to the wounded. That fulfillment can come to the empty. That those who are in prison in this world can be set free.
If we are failing to speak that to our world, and many of us are, then it is no wonder that our culture thinks we have no stake in this conversation. They don’t know that they are the stake for whom we are to live and die, because we’ve not told them nor have we showed them.