This is not the megachurch of the 1980's, where baby boomers turned up once a week to passively take in a 45-minute service -- ''religion as accessory,'' as Tom Beaudoin, an assistant professor of religion at Santa Clara University, has described the phenomenon. In a sense, the new breed of megachurches has more in common with the frontier churches of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, which served as gathering places for pioneers who had gone West in search of opportunity. In sprawling, decentralized exurbs like Surprise, where housing developments rarely include porches, parks, stoops or any of the other features that have historically brought neighbors together, megachurches provide a locus for community. In many places, they operate almost like surrogate governments, offering residents day care, athletic facilities, counseling, even schools. Taking the comparison one step further, there's even a tax, albeit a voluntary one: members are encouraged to tithe, or donate 10 percent of their income to the church. At Radiant, McFarland says, about one-quarter of the members do.
It's hard to imagine a more effective method of religious outreach, which is, after all, the goal of evangelical churches like Radiant. As McFarland told me: ''I'm just trying to get people in the door.'' To that end, Radiant has designed its new 55,000-square-foot church to look more like an overgrown ski lodge than a place of worship. ''For people who haven't been to church, or went once and got burned, the anxiety level is really high,'' McFarland says. '' 'Is it going to be freaky? Is it going to be like what I see on Christian TV?' So we've tried to bring down those visual cues that scare people off.''
In fact, everything about Radiant has been designed to lure people away from other potential weekend destinations. The foyer includes five 50-inch plasma-screen televisions, a bookstore and a cafe with a Starbucks-trained staff making espresso drinks. (For those who are in a rush, there's a drive-through latte stand outside the main building.) Krispy Kreme doughnuts are served at every service. (Radiant's annual Krispy Kreme budget is $16,000). For kids there are Xboxes (10 for fifth and sixth graders alone). ''That's what they're into,'' McFarland says. ''You can either fight it or say they're a tool for God.'' The dress code is lax: most worshipers wear jeans, sweats or shorts, depending on the season. (''At my old church, we thought we were casual because we wore mock turtlenecks under our blazers,'' Radiant's youth pastor told me.) Even the baptism pool is seductive: Radiant keeps the water at 101 degrees. ''We've had people say, 'No, leave me under,' '' McFarland says. ''It's like taking a dip in a spa.''
Now, let me be clear: this sort of place makes me crazy. I believe it turns religion into a consumer product, a sideshow, you name it. A baptismal pool like a spa? Vomit. I wouldn't want to go to this place.
But I cannot dismiss it, because churches like this are responding to something people are hungry for: real community. You can't have real community without a shared moral vision, which is what these folks, whatever their flaws, do seem to have. I am wondering if this is what Alasdair Macintyre had in mind when he said that our fragmenting American society, where the moral center is no longer holding, would produce people who would pioneer new forms of community? It must be.
Is this a bad thing? If so, how could it be made a better thing?
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I completely agree with those who cite the theological inadequacies of churches like this. I have an Evangelical friend who withdrew from his Dallas megachurch in part because of the showbiz aspect of the worship there; for example, during services in the main church building, they had a "live" broadcast on the giant-screen TV of baptisms going on in another part of the church complex. The mind boggles.
But as I indicated in my initial post, what interests me most about these churches is their social role in building community among an increasingly fragmented and deracinated populace. Small example: Prestonwood Baptist, a highly successful megachurch in the north Dallas exurbs, has a playground on its campus, to which anybody can bring their children. My wife went there at the invitation of a friend of hers, who does not go to the church. Julie was very skeptical about this sort of thing, but said later that she can perfectly understand why it works. Based on her description, it seems clear to me that people have lost faith in the ability of the commonweal to establish and enforce standards of civilized behavior in public. So they retreat to private spaces, where the rules are clearer, and enforced. A vote for private spaces is a vote against the commons. It's bad news for our society, I think, but at the same time I can't at all blame people for doing it, because it makes sense. When I was a kid, if somebody was acting up in a public space, they could count on others either correcting them or seeing to it that order was re-established. Nowadays, people just turn away and pretend not to see it. I'm certainly guilty of that. You never know if some jerky teenager has a gun, or is willing to resort to violence. And you can be reasonably sure that your efforts will be in vain. You're not going to call the cops except in an extreme situation, so you just shrug, walk on, and whether you realize it or not, subtly secede from the idea of the commons.
I think this is what Macintyre was talking about in another context when he said that at some point at the dawn of the Dark Ages, people withdrew their commitment to defending the decaying empire, and devoted themselves to forming new communities. I suspect we're seeing something like that work itself out now.>
From Phil: "Just look at the reaction to "The Da Vinci Code". People are not equipped to think for themselves and apply religious principles to today's culture."
This is terrible simplification and a false conclusion. My "seeker"/mega/consumer church (whatever we want to call it) has done a wonderful job of using the DVC as a teaching tool to educate on issues and foundations that otherwise people wouldn't care about. I find it hard to believe that if you attend a liturgical church there is somehow mor interest in "foundations" simply because that church is more liturgical.
Disinterest in intellectual authority and foundational theology is a cultural phenomenon. While these churches may contribute to the ignorance of "first things" and the Christian intellectual tradition, at the very least they are seeking a means of building community around the person of Jesus Christ. I can't speak for all such churches, but as for mine, as I've become more involved the interest of congregants in Church history, theological truths, intellectual foundations, etc. all increase.
The bottom line is that if you don't take your faith in Christ seriously, it doesn't matter whether your church celebrates a liturgy or serves starbucks in the lobby, whether it's "emerging" or "mainline", whether the worship is hymns or choruses. You will never grasp the Truth and draw closer to God.>
"...they operate almost like surrogate governments..."?! So, it is either the function of government or of a mega-church to provide facilities or means for fun and meeting others, to say nothing of building community? What about families walking across the street and introducing themselves to their neighbors? How about a father organizing his life so that he has time to play basketball with his kids in the driveway? Settling for a mega-church life involves about the same amount of responsibility as letting the government take care of us. What kind of a harvest would that give?>
If I ever move to the "exurbs" (the only place where I will likely be able to afford to buy a home) I don't think a megachurch like Radiant would do it for me. It is my impression that most of the megachurchs are theologically conservative or fundamentalist in their beliefs.
Moreover, I don't like "contemporary Christian" music (and I've heard plenty of it, and tried to politely sing along). I would definitely miss my liberal Episcopalian urban church if I moved to the exurbs. Too bad.>
European cathedrals are full of tourists, and American shopping malls are full of worshippers. I'm with Rod -- I cannot bear shopping malls, Christian rock (much less Apocalypse-based video games), and so forth, but worshippers in a mall are better than tourists in a cathedral. Easter Mass in the Milan Cathedral or the St. Matthew Passion in a German Protestant church are quite a different experience -- but harder and harder to find. Theologically many of the Evangelicals are dilute, and some are deluded. But they do read the Bible, and as long as large numbers of people read Scripture, some of them will get the message.>
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