Death of the Consumer Church, pt. 1: Diagnosing "Heart" Problems

For many years as I studied the Bible and prepared to be in ministry, classmates and some cynical friends would tell me, “American Christians are a bunch of consumers.” A bit annoyed and discouraged, inwardly I would brush them off and deny the thought.

Then I took part in a deep study of Paul’s epistles and the early Church (pre-Constantine), and how to really (no, really) do church “by the book.” I felt I had been given a truly biblical vision and mission of the Church, and also an inspirational story of how God used it as His instrument in a historical story of countless people who came into God’s family. Then I looked at the current American Church, where I was studying to serve, and I couldn’t deny it anymore. Consumerism is an extreme problem in the American Church. It’s a growing cancer that will hinder the American Church to the point of disablement until it’s addressed.

Now, what is the consumer church? It’s more broad than some might think. When some hear the phrase, they think of:

1) Nit-picky Christians who peruse churches like shopping for a new car, trying to find the closest match to their self-tailored felt needs, which refer to anything and everything including specific theological non-essentials, programs, musical worship style and location.
2) The financial and moral corruption that comes from Christians being involved in commerce, the type of people that Jesus drove out of the temple.

These are just byproducts. Consumerism is not a matter of church programming. It’s a matter of the heart. Consumerism enters a church when attendants primarily go to “consume,” to receive, not to give, and when leaders of the church only further enable them.

Here, where everyone has the freedom to be the architect of their own destiny, businesses and even some politicians are successful in profit-making and campaigning when they cater to such worshipped individuality. Just how many advertisements use the word “you”? With the internet, cell phones, MP3 players and Kindles, it seems a growing portion of all purchasable products have become much more accessible, customizable, and privatized.

Including church.

If one had a late Saturday night, he/she can sleep in through the morning services and attend an evening service at another church to get the “spiritual fix.” Or one can stay at home and listen to a recording of favorite hymns or worship songs, and then catch the recording of a sermon online.  A consumer also thoroughly enjoys the sometimes ridiculous amenities a church provides elsewhere (e.g. a fellow pastor received a recent complaint about the church’s videos not being in high definition). It’s sad how types of conveniences and extravagances climb our priority list.

Outside of materials and conveniences, the consumerism of our culture has spilled into relationships within the congregation. At even slight disturbances, will approach a church leader like the manager of a restaurant. People withdraw from circles of friendship, Bible studies, and even church communities themselves before the idea of reconciliation can cross their minds.     

However, I personally feel that the biggest hindrance of consumerism upon the Church (and I’ll refer to this again later, using my personal journey) is carried by functional ministry itself. When the consumer comes only to “receive,” the very duties of the Church (i.e. teaching, hospitality, charity, fostering community, and even evangelism itself) are left to its leadership alone. This is not the way the Church was built to operate as laid out in the New Testament.       

Now, it’s not the time to point a finger. The consumer Church is not a result of any particular flop by any controversial and assimilating type of ministry (e.g. Willow Creek’s “seeker” approach, Relevant magazine or the Emerging Church’s self-dubbed mission to the postmodern world). On the contrary, there is actually something to be said in favor of attempting to communicate the Gospel to culture.  Sadly, within our country, consumerism has permeated, seemingly, congregations from every denomination and theology of culture. It’s arguably been a longtime problem for the Church in a land of freedom and prosperity. 

I doubt, for example, it’s a threat for the growing Church in China, for example, where people mostly download Scripture off the web (smuggling hard-copy Bibles is illegal and risky) and they secretly meet in each other’s small apartments for worship, for fear of the government. I doubt, also, that consumerism and selfishness is a problem for the strong Church in Africa, where they worship, united, in huts and nameless buildings despite poverty, disease and some Muslim aggression.

The heart of the issue is that we live in a society with the elevated notion of self, the reluctance to commitment, the impersonal stinginess and the general materialism that all make the aura that is our consumer-driven world. This is a real threat, and it’s certainly not how the Church can flourish and bring life and light to itself and the dark and depressing world, as it was meant to do.

And I can only think of the word “flourish” when I think of what could happen if we start giving ourselves entirely and cheerfully to biblical living and to the Church. It’s an act of worship, where worship is not a weekly musical event, but a constant lifestyle.

Not for the sake of changing culture. But for the sake of changing lives.