I was born in 1948, so I spent my childhood in the Deep South during the 1950s and the early 1960s. In many ways I had a happy childhood. I never doubted for even one second that I was loved and cherished by both of my parents. As with most children, time seemed to have the character of an eternal now, and that sensation was very positive. The woods behind my house became a magical kingdom where anything was possible. My brother and I spent many hours with our friends playing all the fantasy games we could imagine. I would often go into the woods by myself and marvel at the mountain laurel, the tall pines, “Bamboo” Canyon (which decades earlier had been dug out in search of kaolin), and the tiny spring which ran through parts of the woods. I saw many species of birds in the woods as well as squirrels, rabbits, and other small creatures. However, I never discovered a tiger, lion, elephant, or elk (though when I was very young, I tried my best to find even one of these exotic creatures).
Many people have a nostalgic notion of this period of time. As a child I certainly enjoyed every minute of communing with nature, fishing with my family, taking vacations out West, and just being surrounded by love and acceptance. But I was living insulated from much of the pain and evil generated during those years by the devastating consequences of racism, paranoia (Does anyone remember the pathetic school drills when we were told to get under our desks and put our heads between our knees in case of a nuclear attack or the senseless ravings of the John Birch society or the McCarthy inquisition which damaged so many people or the homophobia that wounded deeply so many boys and girls?), parochialism, and the cavalier and destructive treatment of the earth. But as a white child I was shielded from all of that suffering and injustice.
During the 1950s and early 1960s a church could have the worst minister, the most inconvenient location, the ugliest building, the meanest people, the dullest worship services, and the most inadequate youth and children’s programs and could still grow! That was because virtually everyone went to church. It was the thing to do. In many small towns, it was about the only thing to do outside the home. And in small communities, church attendance was also good for business. But one of the most important reasons people went to church was that Sunday after Sunday they had their faith, beliefs, and ways of living affirmed and confirmed by the pastor and the worship service. No one expected anything new to happen at church. The church may claim to be new and exciting, but almost every effort was simply a different way to confirm what everyone believed. This was especially true in Evangelical churches. The gospel in those churches was quite simple: you are a sinner; Jesus came to die in order to save you from your sins so you won’t spend an eternity in hell; if you believe in Jesus the way that church’s theology said you had to believe, you could be saved; and (one of Baptists’ favorite slogans) “once saved, always saved.” However, you had to be sure you were saved. That last sentence was what fueled many a revival service. Inherent in that limited theology was an underlying fear. Many believed they were saved but never felt safe. How could anyone feel safe and believe in a god who tortures most of the people who have ever lived in an everlasting concentration camp?
All through my childhood, adolescent, and college years I never heard a sermon preached within white Baptist churches about the sin of racism.
When the above theological perspective is the essence of your faith, there is little place or energy to discuss, for example, the evils of racism. All through my childhood, adolescent, and college years I never heard a sermon preached within white Baptist churches about the sin of racism. I heard of preachers who dared to take such a courageous and prophetic stand, but without exception, those ministers were fired. So white churches in the South kept silent about this original sin of the United States. Even the supposedly more intellectually enlightened churches (for example Presbyterians, Lutherans, Methodists, and Episcopalians) never broached the subject of segregation and racial prejudice. The ministers in those churches were not quite as focused on “blood atonement” and the threats of hellfire, but they knew on which side their bread was buttered. So, people went to church Sunday after Sunday and heard their beliefs and faith affirmed and confirmed. They didn’t need to hear anything else. What was most important and what was most emphasized was their eternal destiny. Such a theology never allowed church members to address the real issues that caused so much suffering and injustice. I think that’s one reason Evangelical churches grew. You could be a member of one of those churches and never have to question your prejudices, attitudes, and deeds which compounded the pain in your culture. (Today there are Evangelical churches which do address the evils of racism and other forms of injustice. And their number is growing as each year passes. But as the last Presidential election demonstrated, most white Evangelical churches have not even turned the corner regarding the radical call of Jesus to love, share, forgive, and live a life of compassion.)
But we don’t have to look at Evangelical churches to realize that most people go to church today (even in what are called main line denominations) to have their beliefs and faith affirmed and confirmed. We want blessed assurance while we sit on our blessed assurances! “World without end, Amen, Amen!”
But what if our purpose in going to church is transformation?
But what if our purpose in going to church is transformation? Paul’s letter to the Romans is a work of genius. For eleven chapters Paul presents the gospel in all of its radical inclusion. Paul then explains what all this grace means for the way we, as followers of Christ and recipients of the grace of God, should live. He writes: “I appeal to you, therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12: 1-2) That little word “therefore” (in Greek the word is only three letters long) indicates that everything Paul has written up to this point is to prepare his readers for the transformation the authentic gospel will always bring.
The Greek word for “transformation” is the same word from which we get our word “metamorphosis.” Think of the caterpillar and the butterfly. Such a transformation is so radical that if one didn’t know about the process of metamorphosis, one would see the butterfly as a miracle. How could such a creature of beauty come from a worm with legs? For Paul, the Christian life is a process of transformation from “one degree of glory into another” in the likeness of Christ (II Corinthians 3:18). Such transformation never ends. And such a metamorphosis is the opposite of the conformation the world seeks from every human being in any age. (“Conformation” is not a typo.) Perpetual transformation implies that we never “arrive” in our discipleship in this world. (I personally believe that such a transformation continues into the next dimension of life as God raises us from the dead.) We are always “a people of the way” (Acts 9:2). As we follow Jesus we are never allowed to homestead. We are all pilgrims, and (if you are like I am) we all have a long way to go.
It was such stagnant faith that allowed Christians in the South to go to church for generations and never face the evils of slavery, racism, and segregation. It is also a stagnant faith which today allows Christians to neglect the admonition of the Judeo-Christian faith to seek justice for the stranger/immigrant, to care for the earth, and to love our enemies.
So, the question is this: Does our worship settle for affirmation and confirmation or does it strive for and facilitate transformation in the likeness of Jesus? Do we go to church to be confirmed or do we go to church to be transformed/changed? That word “change” scares many Christians. We take comfort in thinking that we have it all nailed down. But as followers of a Crucified Lord, we must remember the dangers of having anything or anyone “nailed down.” Stagnant faith eventually results in someone being crucified. It was such stagnant faith that allowed Christians in the South to go to church for generations and never face the evils of slavery, racism, and segregation. It is also a stagnant faith which today allows Christians to neglect the admonition of the Judeo-Christian faith to seek justice for the stranger/immigrant, to care for the earth, and to love our enemies. The simple gospel is not as simple as it may initially seem to be. The implications of God’s unconditional and indiscriminate love are profound and ever-expanding. And only those who seek transformation in the likeness of Christ can grow in their faith, hope, and love.
Worship that is focused on transformation is a very difficult process. Some even say that worship can never become a means of authentic transformation. They see small groups to be a better vehicle for that kind of radical change. Perhaps transformation can best occur in small groups. One could probably have more success with a small group of people committed to a common goal of metamorphosis. But I am still hopeful (perhaps naïve?) to believe that church services can serve as means of radical transformation—provided enough church members come not so much for affirmation and confirmation (which all of us need from time to time) but for the radical transformation in the likeness of Christ which can turn the agendas of the world upside down. I think we all would agree that the world needs more “butterflies.”
