In defence of 'mega'-church worship

Jesus doesn’t want flash worship. He doesn’t want anything done well or appearing to succeed. It grosses him out. Keep it small, poorly executed and niche. Or just keep it in the style WE do it. Amen.

Ugh. Mega churches are the worst, right? I mean, when did Jesus tell us that we needed to serve our neighbours with a lighting rig, big sound system and a kick-ass rock band? So shallow. So wasteful. So not what Christianity’s about.

That was the gist of a meme I saw recently on a number of progressive Christian pages and groups, and shared by some friends who are good, socially progressive, economically left and aesthetically mildly alternative. Good folk. My people.

But good Lord, my people can be smug.

The meme is worth talking about, but it’s first worth saying that it is okay to let people be wrong on the internet. It is okay for jokes to be inaccurate and even inarticulate (though I draw the line at their also being unfunny). It’s okay (emphasised as a reminder to me, not you) to just let it go without writing a bloody blog post about it.

Okay. But also.

Sometimes you have to call out the lazy popular idea, particularly when many of ‘your own’ people hold it. And I know many. From those who proudly declare their dislike for ‘Jesus is my boyfriend’ worship music because its language is too ambiguous and earnest (and who, I can only assume, also despise most of the Psalms), to those who are sick of evangelicalism and its alignment with conservative ideology (but who see no similarity between fundamentalism and its finger-wagging antithesis), I’ve heard a version of the disdain for ‘mega’-church worship taken out for a spin so many times I think it’s worth saying a few words about it.

What we talk about, when we talk about mega-church

Two churches exist in the mind of most people who hate the priorities of ‘mega’-church worship.  

One imagined church setting is enormous, filled with a cult-like community of hateful drones, teaching flag worship, homophobia, misogyny and the prosperity gospel while spending obscene sums of money on unnecessary buildings, equipment, flash and frippery. It is failing in its mission, stuck in the theological and ecclesiological dark ages, desperately in need of the help (and by this we mean sneering judgement) of more progressive followers of Jesus, who have learnt a better way. It is so western and middle class, have they even engaged with the concepts of Missio Dei? I bet their approach to mission takes no account of contextualising to the World Church.

Simultaneously, this same imagined church is impersonal, incapable of true community or connection, is too shallow and intellectually bankrupt and vacuous to teach anything but platitudes. They’re just there for a sing-song, not spiritual enlightenment. There are far too many people for it to be healthy or Truly ChurchTM (though presumably not enough to justify new-fangled ideas like amplification or electric lights), and most of them are gullible innocents being taken for a ride. It is worshiping success (gauche, gaudy, measurable success) and is arrogantly refusing to look (and sound) like the smaller churches we prefer. This church has conformed to its culture and lost its saltiness.

To summarise:

•     Too big to be healthy. But also not so big as to justify a big sound system.

•     Hateful, dangerous fundamentalist congregants. Who are also cheerful, easily-duped simpletons.

•      Dangerous teachings. Also an almost total lack of teaching.

•      Failing. But obsessed with (and flaunting) success.

•      Theologically backward. And too different from traditional church.

•      Basically a homogenous cult. Not really being effectively taught.

•      Not contextual enough. Too much like its host culture.  

Does that about cover it?

Of course, not every critique of ‘mega’-church worship is as detailed or thorough as all this. Some people just don’t like amplifiers and lighting rigs. And that is fine. A lot of them, occupying that ‘I was once an iconoclastic rebel and now I’m a member of the religious establishment’ space I myself am familiar with, also detest organs and plainsong. Also fine. Aesthetics are personal and subjective. And yet. Churches that tend towards the large lights and big, well-rehearsed bands side of things seem to get more stick than the dustier traditionalists.

Could this be because the little chapels with organ music have the good taste to be in decline? Is the price of our progressive tolerance that they do not show us up by engaging better with the unchurched, youth, young families and world in general better than our own churches seem to manage?

Form v substance

It’s probably worth clarifying some terms and declaring some interests at this point. When we say ‘mega’ as a prefix to church, we really aren’t always talking about size. We are talking about an aesthetic that we disapprove of (in much the same way that drums in church were disapproved of in the late 20th century). Before Covid, I was attending a ‘mega’ church that was probably only marginally bigger than your average suburban Baptist church in a middle class part of England. But this church had a lighting rig. And a sound system. It met in a cinema, had a worship band of between 8 and 10 people and a production team of probably that many again.

Disgusting, I know. Form over substance, right? The money they spent on the alabaster jar full of perfume production could have been given to the poor used to do ‘proper’ community outreach. But what kind of outreach? A group for mums and toddlers, or new carpets / roof repairs / regular upkeep for a building that is largely used once a week and sits idle otherwise? A food bank, or a church coffee shop / youth group that tends to be used for the entertainment of church families?

Ouch. Perhaps that’s harsh. And perhaps the example is too middle class, middle of the road, mainstream. Why not ask whether the money that has for decades been poured into gritty, urban, post-church new expressions of outreach and community was as well spent? Well, was it? How many of those projects are still on life-support having engaged no more than a handful of people who, let’s be honest, would just as happily come to a middle class mainstream church or a mega-church if the community had bothered to reach out to them? I’m not undermining the welcome, acceptance and openness of spirit among pioneers and new expressions — these things are wonderful. But if we’re talking waste and stewardship (and not giving the benefit of the spiritual doubt), let’s be brave enough to look at our own darlings.

While we’re at it, we could look at the crumbling chapels (in the architectural and communal senses), the dying churches in the grip of entropy, holding onto vast sums of money in the form of buildings that are way beyond what the dwindling congregation needs? Are their quiet services, so beloved of elderly believers who never did you any harm, also the problem? Do they deserve a bowl of scorn as well?

Perhaps. Perhaps not. Certainly there are questions to be asked. I’d like to see every church building opened up to the homeless. I would like to see buildings sold and the money invested ethically with the aim of changing society into something more merciful.

My point is that only asking the questions of the churches you don’t think are right-on enough for your tastes (or the ones who embarrass you by looking too professional) is cheap. And unworthy of any part of the Church that is doing its bit as best it can.

Could mega-churches do better?

That said, I’m not here to defend mega-churches. Some have failed people spectacularly and even the ones doing well could improve, as all churches can. I would like to see more women in leadership, preaching and teaching roles. Their underrepresentation in traditionally male positions makes me think we’re missing out on their gifts. I would say, though, that the people who label the likes of Hillsong ‘sing-song’ (as a way of suggesting worship-heavy churches lack intellectual substance) don’t get to criticise them on this. Partly for plank in eye reasons, but mostly because if you claim dismissively that music is more important than theology in a church, you don’t get to assume that teaching/preaching roles are somehow also the most important places to look for inclusion. If a church really values worship over teaching and it has loads of high profile female worship leaders, it is doing really rather well on gender.

Personally, I think most could do better. Feminism needs to join racial justice on the agenda. The question of LGBTQI people needs to be courageously, progressively and lovingly addressed out loud (and not just at the interpersonal level). And there’s plenty more.

Some ‘mega’-churches teach a bizarre mix of nationalism, wealth-obsession and fundamentalism, and some whose preaching is so woolly one would be hard pressed to find a statement one could disagree with. But are our steepled churches with their golden eagles and military insignia really so superior? Are our radically-inclusive gritty urban communities not open to the same substantial critiques Joel Osteen faces? Don’t get me wrong – I love what those post-church churches do. I just don’t understand why we should hate people with a similarly porous sense of theological boundary just because they have nice teeth.

I also think that getting community right in a big church or a church oriented around sung worship can be problematic. The same can be said of cathedrals, though, and a survey a few years ago revealed that cathedrals were bucking the trend of declining church attendance numbers, proving more popular than smaller, more community oriented spaces. The fact is, it’s not for everyone. And it doesn’t need to be.

Stewardship, content and diversity

Perhaps those who agreed with the meme I saw are just as critical of cathedrals (those monuments to God designed to heighten the aesthetic experience of His worship) as they are of megachurches. Perhaps the smells and bells brigade irk them as much as the lights and amps crowd because, like Judas, they have legitimate concerns about how resource is being allocated. About stewardship. But if they are, I believe they need to think about the fruit of a ministry as much as the size and colour of the tree. Or how many lights it has in it.

Surely good stewardship should have some kind of accountability or honest assessment attached. And if so: we must ask where the churches we do approve of will be in 10 or 20 years’ time. Will they leave a legacy of a visual, artistic statement about God, or tens of thousands of new people brought face to face with Jesus Christ at a specific point in their lives? Or will a particular church be a dynastic hub dominated by a few key families, dedicated mostly to maintaining a building and a set of services, come what may? Will that edgy community for radicals and misfits have dissolved after losing energy, leaving a legacy of people, much like those touched by the also-evaporated mega-church, though just a lot fewer in number? (No judgies — I think God can work through that. I am just not sure why it would make you feel superior.) Impact, sustainability, reach and depth should all be assessed if we are going to start slinging mud at church walls.

Or perhaps it’s not about impact, but about content. That’s fair. The Church should be speaking truth to power and telling people about the radical Grace of Jesus Christ, providing comfort, help and a message of God’s love to all types of people. But, friend, I have to tell you that I have yet to encounter a church that embodies this perfectly, let alone one that meets my ideological standards and attracts enough people to reach the critical mass of people to make it sustainable.

Or perhaps the critique is sociological. Mega-churches aren’t socially progressive enough. That sort of thing. But I have found the diversity we progressives claim to value in more mega-churches than traditional or suburban ones. In fact, when I question progressive intellectuals about the way they eulogise the World Church and exhort us to learn from our spiritual siblings in Africa, Asia and the Americas, it seems they are not talking about the massively popular mega-church culture there. “Not that World Church,” they say with their eyes. “I was thinking more along the lines of rural folk music and traditional drums.”

Perhaps that’s unfair. But in my experience, the mega-churches have genuinely diverse cultures and are, at the same time, the best examples of truly contextualised church I have seen. They understand the international metaculture of urbanites and popular media. They understand the language of live events, of television and social networking and they are unashamed of their willingness to meet people there, where they are. They are being successful and perhaps some are compromising for the sake of success. But to assume that they all must be, purely on the basis of their success, is to worship failure. And I’m not sure that’s healthy for the Church either.

The many-mansioned house

I can only really speak for myself and my experience. I’ve been shocked at how much I’ve enjoyed the ‘mega’-church experience. I love the down-to-earthness of my former builder/footballer pastor. I am comforted by how unslick the head of the UK chapter of my church is. I value its diversity and its welcome and I find its failures in admin amusing. Having worked in old denominational contexts, I worry when I see it move towards some of the traps the declining Church fell into: fighting cultural battles it cannot win, especially with its own youth; investing in buildings that can go quickly from being platforms to anchors and millstones; encouraging too much faith in leaders and leadership; failing to challenge sexism and gender privilege. But over all I like it.

Are there views that come out in sermons that I disagree with? Hell yeah! But I’m a Protestant. A Baptist at heart. I don’t have to agree. My relationship with God is not mediated by my leaders and teachers, just helped or hindered. I find myself in a state of pleasantly-surprised non-disagreement often. I am regularly proud of the way it seems to handle itself. I am sure there will be disappointments, too. But they do not centre around the fact that, as a church, it wants to create a sung worship experience that is engaging and engrossing. I do not believe that worship can only be good if the instruments are played badly any more than I believe the converse.

The idea that anything polished, well executed or of a high production standard in communication terms must be wasteful is stupid. Do I believe that unless we strive for excellent musicianship, production and coffee in church or we are somehow not honouring God? No. Because He is the God of the humble and sees our intentions and our hearts as well as actions. Widows with little to offer give much in His eyes, and children who know little are told they are valued. But if we would not judge a preacher for preaching a good sermon, why the hell would we judge a church whose worship was too much like a professional concert? Are we so used to it being done badly that higher standards distract us?

The argument, of course, is cost. But would it make a difference if every single one of those involved was an unpaid volunteer? Or that the equipment was offered cheap or free? Nah. Because the objection is really to the style, not the stewardship. And that’s a generous assessment. Those who pour scorn on churches with lights and sound but happily go to gigs and don’t denounce the same things may have legitimate concerns about mixing our focus in church. Or maybe they dislike confidence and excellence that makes them feel shabby, by comparison. And that is not a gracious attitude.

I can’t really imagine any of the ‘mega’ or mega-churches I’ve attended making fun of the quality of worship in other churches.

Myself, I find high production values less distracting and so I connect more and better with God during worship because I am not wincing at the fluffed cords or the fact that the mix is only in the monitors and not the front of house. Different things may distract you, I’m sure. But the question is whether we elevate our aesthetic tastes to pseudo-righteous critiques of the spirituality of those with different aesthetics. To my mind, there are just as many assholes in shabby churches as there are in flash ones.

I think the mega-church movement may be changing into the thing we claim we want it to be: less focus on personal blessing in financial terms while still preaching faith and grace and God’s loving goodness; more of an outward focus and a recognition of the societal needs the Church should be addressing; a challenging of injustice, be it toxic internal culture, racism or classism. There’s even quiet (too quiet) movement on gender and sexuality. And honestly, how many church traditions do you see moving on all of these while still growing?

Church is great. Church sucks. Everywhere.

I have connected with the Lord in a small church with military crests on the wall where after a year my wife and I still got asked whether we were there to hear the banns of marriage read, such was our relative youth compared to the established congregation. I have led an independent, very alternative cell-group of believers and non-believers who were my true community and who attended different (or no) churches on Sundays. I have been in leadership in a middle of the road Baptist church and been fed by fearless teaching and been given an opportunity to serve. And I have loved the anonymity of a mega-church, melting into budding friendships, while very week being given an opportunity to feel the Spirit move and to abandon myself to the worship of Jesus Christ. In all of these churches I have been blessed and disappointed. In each I have been surprised by the radical teaching I heard, the way God chose to show up in sung liturgy, amateur teaching or professional production.

It is shallow and short-sighted to pretend one expression of Church is perfect – we all know that. But it is far too easy to single out one or two for our disapproval. It’s foolish for us to throw stones, open to critique as we all are. It is ludicrous to base those critiques on the equipment we use or the perceived slickness (or lack thereof), while worshiping the perfect, glorious and all-powerful creator (who came down to us as a poor man who was nothing to look at).

We have to get used to the idea that aesthetics are not ethics, and to accept that things we dislike may still be good and useful. We have to grow up.   

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Thank you!

Thanks to everyone who got in touch with me about the sex addict interview to say you were touched (but in an appropriate way) by it. Thanks particularly to my septuagenarian Dad, who messaged me to say he had taken the test and was relieved to discover he is not a sex addict.

Thanks also to the anonymous donor who sent me some beers! You’re a kind soul whoever you are!

Thanks also to you for being patient while I wrote this (and while I still struggle with the latest episode of the podcast which is now, perhaps, the least timely episode in history.

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Hey! You made it all the way to the end! Again! Even though I haven’t changed my ‘how to support me’ bit, which is so obviously a ‘please give me money so I can feel validated in my decision to do this’ section. Good on you. Do you think I should have included the specific meme? I didn’t because I worried that the person who I first saw posting it would feel this was a specific attack on them. Which I don’t want it to be. But also: it was a stupid meme and progressives are SO judgey sometimes. Also: the picture I got from Public Domain Review again. It’s of Eddie Peabody and Franz von Suppe. Obviously. Anyway, I hope you’re well. I’m doing okay, actually. Lots of driving around to look at houses. Lots of trying to write my novel. At least one visit to a stately garden run by a cult. I’ll tell you about it some time. xxx

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