Recently in Christianity Category

How would the world's major religions react to the arrival of Superman? An interesting little essay.

Last week, I went out during lunch to visit the local comic/game store (to pick up a shiny copy of BESM d20); while the store owner rang the book up at the register, we started chatting. I asked what sorts of local games were run at the store (as there always seems to be a pack of bespeckled D&D players rolling dice in the store's back room when I visit).

He didn't have the schedule with him, but asked if I wanted the store contact info so I could get in touch with the employee who oversaw the game scheduling. Sure thing, I said. So he handed me a little packet of paper with the store's contact info printed neatly on it. But this isn't an ordinary business card! I slowly turn it over, and discover that their contact info is actually printed on the back of a...

Jack Chick tract!

This tract, to be precise. Now, Jack Chick, if you're not familiar with him, is the guy who is best known in gaming circles for his rather melodramatic anti-D&D tracts (actual tagline: "Debby thought playing Dungeons and Dragons was fun... until it destroyed her friend"). Jack Chick also has a lot to say about Catholics, Muslims, rock-n-rollers, Jews, Masons, wishy-washy Protestants, and those Satanic New Age Bible versions like the NIV. And here is a roleplaying game store with a giant shelf full of D&D books handing out Chick tracts at the counter.

I shouldn't read too much into it. I'm sure it not a sly jab at Chick's expense--the store owners seem very kind and sincere and I've remarked before to Michele that they seem to have a really good influence on the kids who hang out at the store. And I'd previously deduced that they were Christians by conversations I overheard and the occasional strains of Michael W. Smith that wafted out of the CD player behind the front counter. And it's not like you have to subscribe to Chick's brand of wackiness to pass out one of his tracts--especially a relatively straightforward one like this.

But it did make me smile.

Note: I've written about this topic elsewhere, but would like to explore the issue in more depth (or at least more length) here.

Earlier this year I watched The Passion of the Christ--perhaps you've heard of it? In the weeks leading up to its release, the buzz within the "Christian community" (have fun defining that one) had become a deafening roar. Amidst all the controversy about the film, Christians and ministries throughout the country were gearing up to take advantage of what they anticipated would be a massive spiritual revival. Passion-themed websites were created, books were written, tracts were penned, Bible studies and discussion guides were distributed. All were designed in the hopes of sharing the Gospel with non-Christians who saw the film and were sufficiently moved or interested by it to do some research into What It All Means. At least one or two organizations touted The Passion as the greatest evangelistic opportunity in recent history.

Now, I am oversimplifying things a bit for effect--none of the Christians I talked to (or read) believed that millions of moviegoers would instantly convert upon watching the movie. But there was a very, very strong hope that the film would break down the walls of resistance in unbelievers and give Christians an unprecedented opportunity to share the Gospel with people who might otherwise not give it a second thought. The ministry where I work was closely involved in efforts to promote the film as an evangelistic opportunity, and I shared the hope that the film, good or bad, would pique a popular interest in Jesus that would lead them to turn to the Gospels for answers.

Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to have happened at all. Recent Barna research noted positive initial spiritual responses to the film, but concludes with a troubling piece of news:

Among the most startling outcomes drawn from the research is the apparent absence of a direct evangelistic impact by the movie. Despite marketing campaigns labeling the movie the “greatest evangelistic tool” of our era, less than one-tenth of one percent of those who saw the film stated that they made a profession of faith or accepted Jesus Christ as their savior in reaction to the film’s content.

Equally surprising was the lack of impact on people’s determination to engage in evangelism. Less than one-half of one percent of the audience said they were motivated to be more active in sharing their faith in Christ with others as a result of having seen the movie.

Now, "less than one-tenth of one percent of those who saw the film" means that some people did find Christ as a result of watching it--and that's good news. But that's a tiny, tiny number compared to the hopes Christians had for Passion-related evangelism. In numerical form, thats what, <.05%? Ouch.

So what does this mean? One of the biggest-hyped evangelism opportunities in recent years has proved to be a bust (with the disclaimer that a small number of people were positively impacted by it). Somewhere, something went wrong. Where, and what should we think about all this?

One possibility is that the film simply didn't live up to Christian expectations. Perhaps the film was so bad or so inaccurate that nobody liked it, let alone felt inspired by it? This seems unlikely given the movie's massive success in theaters, and I don't know anyone personally who didn't find the film both moving and well-crafted. I saw it myself, and while I can easily imagine somebody not liking it, it certainly doesn't fall into the category of "cringe-o-matic Christian cheese." (Well, it does cause cringing, but not for the usual reasons.) Furthermore, many of the Christians who hoped to see a spiritual revival in the wake of the movie didn't pin those hopes on the anticipated high quality of the movie--for many, it was enough that the person of Jesus was the subject of such intense public scrutiny, whether out of adoration or controversy or anything else. If the movie turned out to be good, so much the better, but it didn't have to be good or accurate from an evangelistic perspective--it just had to get people thinking about Christ. The person of Christ, and the story of the Gospel, would speak for themselves, no matter what the movie did or didn't get right--or so their hopes went.

So I don't think it's a simple matter of the movie not meeting expectations or standards of quality. What are some other reasons?

One other troubling possibility is simply that the Christian community utterly and completely misjudged the situation and saw an evangelism opportunity where none really existed. It wouldn't be the first time that Christians have predicted a mass spiritual awakening, only to be disappointed: it happened after 9/11 and before that--oh, how it pains me to even write this--regarding the Left Behind movie. The idea of "Big Event" evangelism--witnessing based around a major world event or prevailing cultural trends--isn't new, and there are success stories to be found in history. Sometimes it works--think everything from Jonathan Edwards to the Billy Graham crusades--and sometimes it doesn't. That's what happens when fallible humans try to anticipate the inner workings of the heart--or the plans of the Holy Spirit. If it is the case that the Christian community misjudged, maybe it's just another item in a very long list of hits and misses when it comes to anticipating pop culture's response to the Gospel.

Which leads me to another possibility, and that is that God simply didn't intend to use this movie to spread the Gospel far and wide. I believe strongly that words and images--even when crafted into something as compelling as The Passion of the Christ--have no power to bring you to God unless God himself chooses to work through them for his purposes. Perhaps it is simply the case that Christians' hopes for the film just didn't match up with God's plans, and that's that. If so, it wouldn't be the first time Christians have embarked on evangelism efforts without first checking to see if it's what God really wants (not that figuring out "what God wants" is as easy as that, of course).

And lastly, I suppose it's possible that this film really did hold massive evangelistic potential, and we as Christians completely botched it somehow. Perhaps we have separated ourselves so far from the interests, loves, and desires of non-Christians that we are unable to anticipate their spiritual impulses--and thus cannot provide them with the Answer in a way that they understand. If this is the case--that Christians dropped the ball on a huge opportunity--I'd say we as a community of believers have a lot of thinking, talking, and praying to do about how we should be bringing the Gospel to the world.

What do you think? It's an issue that has been on my mind lately. Why do you think that Passion evangelism has produced so little fruit compared to the veritable harvest for which evangelicals hoped? Somewhere along the line, we miscalulated or misguessed the impact that this film would have. Some were saved, yes, but for the most part, spiritual life in America has returned to its pre-Passion levels. We shouldn't judge Passion evangelism a failure just because it produced fewer visible results than anticipated, but I think it's important to ask ourselves why our expectations of spiritual revival so far exceeded the results.

final paragraph edited 8/15 for clarity and to remove an implication I hadn't intended to make.

Last night, we attended a performance of The Man of La Mancha at Orchard Hill Reformed Church. It was superbly done, with great production values and excellent acting/singing all around. It is very refreshing to see a church embracing the arts, and opening itself up to the local community in the process. From our visits there, Orchard Hill does "the arts" with great enthusiasm; it's always interesting to see the artwork on display throughout the foyer and to observe the large amount of artistic talent being tapped by the church for use in worship services and special programs. Way to go, OHRC. And thanks to Brian and Rachel for giving us a heads-up on the musical.

Michele and I spent much of this past weekend visiting my relatives in Ohio. Many of them couldn't make it to the wedding, and we wanted everyone to get a chance to meet Michele (and it was high time that Michele see what she had really gotten into by marrying into the family).

I like my relatives. They're a pretty diverse bunch; most of them have personalities, interests, and quirks that differ drastically from mine, which makes them an interesting bunch with which to hang out. I heard a lot of good stories, caught up with a lot of people with whom I haven't spoken in years--your typical visit to the relatives.

One thing that struck me on this particular visit: my relatives--in particular my grandmother and several of my cousins--witness a lot. That is, they bring up the topic of faith, Christianity, and salvation in conversation on a regular basis--far more frequently than I'm used to hearing in my conversations with friends and family. It's a rare conversation that doesn't turn at some point to a mention of how the topic under discussion reminds them of a Bible verse, or an offhand recollection of time spent handing out religious tracts at local businesses, or of people they know who recently were, or are being, convicted of the need for Christ. My grandmother makes regular references to Bible verses and Jesus in a typical conversation, whether or not the conversation is specifically about any overtly religious topic. My aunt casually mentioned in conversation the opportunity she had at our (Michele's and my) wedding to witness to an agnostic next to whom she was seated at the wedding reception. My cousin matter-of-factly referred to the time she and her sister decided, on a lark, to go around to local businesses handing out religous tracts (incidentally, their witnessing efforts were rudely rebuffed by the 'nice old lady' working at the Hallmark store but received with interest by the owner of a sleazy-looking music shop). They're not boasting about their spirituality, nor are they scary religious zealots--it just seems that their faith is so immediate to them that it spills right over into everyday conversations.

I find myself wishing that my faith cropped up in my everyday conversations more often. My default social setting is to generally avoid specific religious topics for fear of intruding upon others' intellectual "personal space;" everyone's experiences with and relationship to Christianity is different, and I hate the idea of making an unwilling conversant talk about such an intensely private subject as their relationship with God. But on the other hand, several of my relatives manage to talk about faith without making me, oversensitive to such things as I am, uncomfortable, so it's certainly possible to do so.

I think they don't make me uncomfortable with their religious talk because they don't bring up these topics with ulterior motives; they're not trying to ferret out the status of my spiritual life and they're not manipulating the conversation to set me up for an evangelism attempt. While I'm a Christian, so there's technically no need to evangelize me, I have a feeling that they'd relate conversationally to a nonbeliever in much the same non-aggravating way. Their tone communicates to me, "My beliefs are integral to who I am; they can't be separated from my words or deeds." They give no offense, but demand that the listener acknowledge that reality.

It seems to me that their ability to casually discuss religious topics (some of which would make your typical churchgoer nervous) springs from the fact that they are very, very comfortable with their faith. It's not as separated from their everyday lives as religious belief is for many Americans; when you see God's hand in every aspect of your day-to-day life and feel His presence with you in every situation, it must be the most natural thing in the world to have that immediacy reflected in your social relationships with other people.

My grandmother and cousins aren't perfect, of course, and if we were to sit down and start chatting theology, I'm sure we'd disagree on a wide range of issues. Nor do I want to undergo a personality change to become more extroverted. But talking to my relatives makes me wish I were slightly more comfortable discussing my faith with others, even (especially?) with others who don't share that faith. My Christian faith is the most important aspect of my life. Isn't it odd that I'd keep it carefully separated from the second-most-important thing in my life, my social interaction with others?

It's the end of the world as we know it And I feel fine. --REM

Some say the end is near Some say we'll see Armageddon soon. I certainly hope we will; I sure could use a vacation from this bullshit three-ring circus sideshow. --Tool

Is the world ending soon? Is the Second Coming around the corner? A lot of my fellow Christians seem to think so. Why is it so important to so many people to believe that we are living in the End Times? Read on for a few of my comments on the topic.

My good friend Jay has been involved for some time with the Office of Social Justice and Hunger Action, a ministry of the Christian Reformed Church. I'm pretty pleased to see the CRC getting actively involved in questions of justice around the world. I've never attended a Reformed church in which questions about international justice and the Christian response to it were addressed directly, and have mixed feelings about that: on the one hand, keeping partisan politics out of church services seems like an extremely good idea; but on the other hand, prompting concern about these issues among American Christians also seems like an entirely appropriate activity.

So anyway, I'm pleased to see the CRC promoting an online forum and information center regarding questions of social justice--particularly the Iraq situation, a scenario that I've seen seriously addressed by few American Protestant denominations. If you're a member of the CRC, or even if you're not, you should check it out; there are some good articles and documents online there. If nothing else, you should join the mailing list and witness me struggling to promote my crazy opinions amidst a sea of people who seem to disagree with me.