Rev. Michael S. Taylor- mtaylor@crocker.com
(Ed. Note the very uncomplimentary terms - "consumer oriented," "showmen," etc - used to describe the Next Church in this article. Is this how the church of Jesus Christ should be viewed by the world or even other Christians?)
Dormant churches could once fend off dismemberment because communities regarded empty houses of worship as sacred. But in the big city today, a church that stops breathing for even a moment is fair game for wrecking or secular conversion. In my own neighborhood in Brooklyn- historically known as the "the city of churches" - one church has become a supermarket and several others have been refitted as apartments. With church structures in vogue and shrinking congregations barely holding on, developers keep an eye out for houses of worship that might soon go dark.
Church watchers estimate that small, neighborhood churches are closing their doors at the rate of about 50 a week. But while traditional churches die out, a new strain of large, consumer-oriented worship- loosely known as "the Next church" - is packing in parishioners by the millions. Next churches are often large - some exceeding 10,000 people - nondenominational and devoid of standard religious vestment. Their buildings are deliberately secular in look, resembling civic centers or campuses. Stained glass and hymnals have given way to overhead video screens, hip music and stadium sized sanctuaries.
(....my newspaper dropped the beginning of this paragraph...) era exiles who quit church as soon as they could say "no" to their parents. Some of these returning exiles prefer religion without brimstone and punitive edicts, but some are fundamentalist. The Next Church serves them not just on Sundays, but seven days a week, in a deliberate attempt to be all things to parishioners. The largest churches sponsor sports leagues and offer workshops on subjects ranging from spiritual growth and bringing up baby to money and banking.
Apart from size, what most distinguishes the Next church from its predecessors is the tenacity of its evangelizing style - and the business like intent on "broadening God's market share," as the writer Charles Trueheart put it in "Welcome to the Next Church," published in The Atlantic Monthly.
The new mindset is paying enormous dividends in growth, community influence and revenue, according to Dr. John Vaughan, whose Center keeps a census of what Dr. Vaughan calls "megachurches," with memberships of 2,000 or more. Thirty years ago, there were fewer than 10 such churches in the United States. Today, there are nearly 500, Dr. Vaughan writes. One of the fastest growing these churches is Saddleback Valley Community Church in Mission Viejo, Calif., which mushroomed from a few people in 1980 to a congregation of 14,000 today. The Saddleback congregation's master plan calls for a sanctuary that will seat 7,000 to 10,000 with education buildings, youth facilities and parking structures. The price tag is $50 million.
The hard-driving evangelism that produces this magnitude of growth is on display at the Potters House in Dallas (congregation, 16,000), pastored by the best-selling author and ecclesiastical celebrity Bishop T. D. Jakes. Each Sunday, the Bishop's emissaries fan out into Dallas, picking up homeless people, who get showers, fresh clothes and makeup before partaking of the service. One Jakes revival reached prisons with satellite broadcasts. Last summer, Bishop Jakes held a scriptural conference for women in Atlanta that drew 50,000 women. The Bishops' message goes out through videotapes, audiotapes and books.
The Next Church phenomenon is certainly eye-catching. But its growth and vivid personalities are not as unique as most people think. In the 19th century - long before Email and satellite television- Henry Ward Beecher built a megachurch in Brooklyn Heights called Plymouth Church His Sunday audience numbered 2,000. He heightened interest by attracting national leaders like Abraham Lincoln. A showman to the bone, Beecher dramatized the cruelties of slavery by staging mock slave auctions, with himself as in the role as auctioneer. When rivals called him a sensationalist, Beecher replied that "he is the best fisherman who catches the most fish."
There were a half-dozen ministers in the Northeast alone whose reach and influence probably equaled Beecher's. But if we visited their churches today, we would find them greatly diminished, with less excitement and certainly more pews than parishioners. traditional churches have lost connection with the evangelistic spirit that once made them powerful and vibrant institutions. Until they reconnect with that tradition, they are in danger of becoming stained-glass condominiums.
Copyright, NY TIMES 1998