It’s a great privilege to visit a church in which you are not known and the worship is styled differently than in your home church.
On my desk is a pair of earplugs which were given to me by a friendly usher as I entered the auditorium at Flatirons Community Church in Lafayette, Colo., last month. My hosts understood my curiosity and simply said, “The music can get loud.” They were not kidding.
But I resisted the earplugs because I wanted to appreciate fully what these Christians had worked hard to prepare and to offer.
The earplugs have become a sign of hospitality, a gift, from a group of strangers.
The cover story of the April issue of The Lutheran was about evangelicals. “Who are they?” the author asked.
While noting that ELCA Lutherans call themselves evangelical, Donald McCoid, does a clear job defining our conversations with Christians who do not worship like us or place the same emphasis on faith defined by creeds, the sense of sacramental theology and who are amazed when we cannot tell them when we were saved.
He does not mock, but calls these conversations an opportunity to witness to what we believe.
We differ, to be sure, but McCoid advises us to think critically about what is good about these churches.
He admires the emphasis the evangelicals place on the Bible and gives us the well-known statistic that Lutherans are not prone to invite anyone to church. Statistically, we invite once every 23 years. It sounds like a bad joke when we profess that we have been entrusted with Good News too good not to share.
The Flatirons pastor was remarkable in his sharing of the good news. Clearly and distinctly, he was on target with the Gospel’s message. He was comforting when he said no matter where you’ve been or what you’ve done, Jesus died for you. He told us that in the Flatirons Church there was no us versus them, no insiders, no outsiders but just people who had by the Spirit’s guiding, come to worship and perhaps to join Flatirons.
“Join us,” he said. The invitation was sincere.
We could have long conversations about what we do or do not like about this kind of worship and in no way am I proposing we install four permanent screens in the chancel. The Flatirons music was annoying to me, but some folks seemed to be moved by it.
Worshipping in a converted K-Mart falls short of holy space for me and even if I lived close-by, I would not choose this church.
But I learned something about a group we frequently smirk about. They are really not a different species.
As your summer unfolds, take a chance and visit a church and enjoy how others worship. A point of caution: if the friendly usher gives you earplugs, don’t use them. You might miss hearing something important.
With you, for Christ,
Carolyn Wilson
