If It's Good Enough For Paul

A friend of mine, Robert, has a church in a northern city. It’s based in an area that suffers from poverty, crime, and what he describes as ‘a spiral of depression.’ There are no jobs, businesses are closed, prostitution is rife, and there are more single-family units than anywhere in the country.

Two years ago his church was empty. There were a few elderly people who faithfully attended, but there were no young people. His son told him that young people don’t want to come to church because the way most ministers speak is boring. (I’m certain he wasn’t suggesting that his father is boring!). And, as Robert already knew, his son reminded him that many young people don’t even believe in God.

So Robert set out on a project. He first obtained permission from his son (a very wise thing to do!) to go with him to see where young people most ‘hang out.’ He went to a few pubs, a ‘rave’ (and I can easily see Robert at a ‘rave,’) and he ‘hung out’ at a shopping centre one weekend with his son. (poor lad!).

Robert took those experiences and listened to what enticed young people and what caught their attention. One of the things Robert noticed was that once an event, such as a ‘rave’ had them fired up, there were occasions when a sponsor of the event or DJ would make some brief speech or comment, such as about AIDS, or suicide rates, or bullying, etc. And he was amazed that the young people would respectfully listen and collectively respond when the speaker was finished. It was clear that the message had been heard and presumably had an impact. And his son told him, at school the following week, he’d hear kids repeat what they heard at the rave.

So Robert decided to make some dramatic changes to the way he celebrated Mass and to the way he offered the homily. No longer would he move to the pulpit; instead, he moved down the steps and spoke closer to the people. The elderly communicants liked this. They thought it was ‘friendlier.’

But what they didn’t like, so much so that they complained to Robert’s bishop, was the way he had installed several spot lights that shone on the altar and the large cross behind. During the Eucharist, as he moved around the altar with the thurible, the organist would increase the volume of the offertory hymn and in sync with the music and order of service, one of the servers would turn a rheostat, causing a finely pointed blue-white light to focus on the large cross.

Robert worked hard to get several young people to come to church. In fact, he admits that he actually paid three of them. For a month, he gave each of them a fiver for coming on Sunday. His reasoning was that these particular three, who were more or less the Alpha males in their peer groups, would go back to the group to say what they thought of the services.

The first Sunday, as Robert waited for the small congregation to leave, he told me how saddened he was that several of the elderly refused to even look at him, much less shake his hand. He knew this change was going to be difficult for them, and he knew that he would be visiting them at home during the weeks ahead, trying, again, to explain what his goals were. I certainly understand how people feel they need familiarity in their lives, especially in their ‘religious’ lives. The order of service at a local church, where people instinctively ‘know’ what will be said by the minister, and how they will respond can become sacrosanct. And woe be unto anyone who might consider introducing even the most minimal variation!

Two years on, Robert has a thriving church. During the ten o’clock service the age mean is decidedly different now. And yes, he still uses a lighting system and his offertory hymn reaches a crescendo in sync with part of the Eucharistic service. At eight o’clock, there is a service that follows the familiar and comforting liturgy that so many people grew up with. Some actually attend both. The organist plays softly and the lighting is not used.

But the church is nearly full. There is now a Sunday school and nursery, and several youth programmes are running from within the church. Two years on, from a church that was about to be marked as ‘excess’ and amalgamated with another church, supported by a ‘team’ ministry, it stands on its own as a beacon to the community. All it took was for Robert to be adaptive and meet people on their level, in order to be a guide to help in moving them forward.

Some Christians have the notion that anything taken from paganism or secular culture and used in the service of the Gospel is inherently corrupting and sinful. Priests often hear how the Church has allegedly sullied the purity of the Gospel of Christ with pagan ideas and practices.

St. Paul would find this charge funny, as he himself made use of pagan poets in his preaching. So would St. John, who borrowed the term ‘Logos’ from Greco-Roman philosophy to describe Jesus Christ (John 1:1). They knew the same truth that Augustine pointed out four centuries later: when Israel left Egypt, they took the gold of the Egyptians with them, with God's blessing (Exodus 12:35-36).

All truth is God's truth, even if pagan or secular culture is teaching it. Today, more than ever, we need to find a way to engage our culture with the truth of God in ways people can understand.

And if it's good enough for Paul, it's good enough for me.

‘For in Him we live and move and have our being;’ as even some of your poets have said, ‘for we are indeed His offspring.’ Acts 17:28