Leaving the Altar

So the churches are modernizing, too. Someone seems to have come to terms with Mill and the realization that dogma cannot survive the harsh light of forced sunshine - and thus it must willingly open the curtains itself. Contemporary congregations are, I imagine, much more comfortable believing creeds that invite competing views and interpretations. Why has the Coos Bay Christian Science Church, with its somber services with eight elderly men sleepnig throughout, still sacrificing genuine communication for the sake of tradition?

The church in the basement of a coffeehouse that I attended today was a far cry from the pews and organ of a traditional church. The pastor embellished his sermon with colloquial terms like "awesome" and "like," and used catchy taglines like "you have a green light" and "be missional." The "hymns" were accompanied by guitar and drums and their lyrics were projected onto overhead computer screens. As Joel informed me, the session was being taped for broadcast in movie theaters on Sunday morning. When the songs resonate with people, they are much more compelling. It made me realize that organ music may at one time have been inspiring - rather than sleep-inducing as it currently is. In fact, even the inclusion of music might have attracted audiences in the mid-twelfth century.

The creed itself was non-denominational, and thus rather generic. The messages were simple motivational ones, and only loosely connected with scripture. For example, the pastor enjoined his congregation to do good wherever they could find it, to be proactive, and to unburden themselves of any material possessions that are unneeded but distracting. All of these are good other-regarding moral principles, whether substantiated by Biblical passages or not. The one - and I mean one - conventional part of the service was communion. But even this was done collectively: each person was given a mini cup of grape juice and cracker so everyone could eat and drink simultaneously, at the direction of the pastor.

The main doctrinal dispute I had was with the idea that God tells us what to do. One of the hymns said "I give you control." I could only think of Alayna and the deterioration of her life and ambitions as soon as she surrendered them to God's ambiguous "will."

Such an open environment made me confront some of the really hard questions of religion. For example, how do we know what is God's will? If God doesn't talk to us directly - and surely few can claim, honestly, to have spoken directly with him - then the author of his opinions must be church personnel. But this sounds like an invitation for abuse.