Easter Sunday in the megachurch

Before I started to pray, I made a silly mistake: I looked at the Stuff news­feed. The fourth head­line down depicted the demise of another megachurch, specif­i­cally the res­ig­na­tion of New Zealand’s Arise church found­ing pastor.  The accom­pa­ny­ing photo was the name ‘Jesus’ in bright lights and the sil­hou­ettes of a large crowd in worship.

It was Easter Sunday. And nowhere was an article about the glo­ri­ous res­ur­rec­tion, the true meaning of Easter, or the growth of the fol­low­ers of Jesus worldwide.

Sadly, this is just one more megachurch run aground on the rocks of post-moder­nity. Some of the most widely pub­li­cised in recent years have been Mark Driscol and Mars Hill, John Ortberg and Menlo church, and Bill Hybels and Willow Creek in the United States; more recently Sydney’s Brian Houston and Hill­song church.

I remem­ber when Bill Hybels resigned amidst swirling alle­ga­tions. Someone in the church I was part of asked if we should take Hybels’ books out of the church library in a bid to join a can­celling culture, as if what he had written was no longer as true or helpful after his res­ig­na­tion as it was before. True, he had made some big mis­takes- and now the Willow Creek churches, and the church in the West more gen­er­ally, were impli­cated. However, the prob­lems run deeper and settle far closer to home than can be solved by an igno­rant attempt to blame one leader or church franchise.

The issue with megachurches is their values. Jesus called his fol­low­ers to a life expressed by taking up their cross to follow him, loving the poor, and going out to make dis­ci­ples of all nations. This is a costly counter-cul­tural call: Today, and in Jesus’ day. Megachurch values are not counter-cul­tural but straight from modernity’s con­sumer culture play­book. Rather than sac­ri­fice, they rein­force comfort. Rather than dis­ci­ple­ship, they encour­age Chris­t­ian con­sumerism. Rather than pouring giving into Missio Dei, they pay large sums for big venues, engag­ing com­mu­ni­ca­tors, and only the most tal­ented musi­cians. Rather than serve the poor, they serve their charis­matic leaders with large salaries, expen­sive hotel rooms, and a jet­set­ter lifestyle.

If it wasn’t so dam­ag­ing it could simply be laughed off as stupidity.

Why do I feel com­pelled to put my feel­ings into words on this topic? I had the priv­i­lege of leading a large church. One that some­times flirted with megachurch ways, and that others some­times saw as a smaller New Zealand example of a megachurch. While Spreydon/SWBC was rel­a­tively big on an Aotearoa scale, it was never a megachurch. I can say that con­fi­dently, because I know that the values of the church were dif­fer­ent and deeply embedded.

For nearly fifty years, the church has been giving around 25% of its annual income to global mission. For thirty years, we have met in a gym that is mostly used for com­mu­nity fitness, youth group bas­ket­ball and children’s games. The worship expe­ri­ence is always com­pro­mised because we have less than com­fort­able stacker seats and acoustics that are, at best, very poor because of the primary purpose of the build­ing as a gym. Added to this are a sound system, stage, pro­jec­tor, and some screens that are both cheap and need to be wheeled in and out each Sunday (many of you reading this will know a very similar Sunday reality). Our church is on a bi-cul­tural journey that ensures Māori values have a voice. Bib­li­cal teach­ing takes prece­dence over biblio-enter­tain­ment. Jesus’ pri­or­ity to reach the poor and dis­ad­van­taged is reg­u­larly taught and expressed through the action of the church. For over thirty years the church has invested in, employed staff for, a weekly service for people with sig­nif­i­cant intel­lec­tual disabilities.

This is a mission-focussed church that has slowly grown because of a heart for mission and a com­mit­ment to dis­ci­ple­ship. This is not a megachurch.

The regret­ful part is, the leaders of the megachurches that have fallen (and there will be more falls yet) didn’t set out to deceive. They were all com­mit­ted to Jesus, had a heart for the gospel, and wanted the best for the church. But an addic­tive cycle can begin that is very hard to break. I get that! Many Sunday nights, espe­cially after special events, I’d go home on a high. Large numbers of people had turned up, a big team of staff and vol­un­teers had worked hard and given their best. People had been effu­sive in their praise; many were encour­aged or inspired, some had clearly been sig­nif­i­cantly and pos­i­tively impacted. Some had even made, what could become, life-alter­ing commitments.

And I was the senior pastor of it all. That affects you.

You want to do it all again- only bigger and better. So, you work towards the next big event and encour­age more people to be part of it. You tell them to bring friends and give gen­er­ously, so it can achieve even more than last week or last year. Without strong coun­ter­weights of com­mit­ments to global mission, the poor, bib­li­cal teach­ing and counter-cul­tural dis­ci­ple­ship, you can be pulled into pouring every­thing into the next event and living for the next high. Round it goes. Pride up, sac­ri­fice down. The con­sumer desire for bigger and better is insa­tiable and the cost to provide it just keeps on rising. The charis­matic leader is no longer judged by their char­ac­ter and for­ma­tion in Christ, they are fol­lowed for their com­mu­ni­ca­tion prowess and like-ability.

And those just aren’t Jesus values. That is hyper-modern con­sumerism infect­ing the church.

It was Easter Sunday and I wasn’t sur­prised to read of another megachurch left floun­der­ing. Yet, I was dis­ap­pointed that a cynical media outlet had made that the day’s lead story. When I’d cooled down and started to pray, I prayed about the Sri Lankan church and the wisdom they had found through their fear. I prayed for the masses in seats of megachurches who may feel hurt or dis­ori­ented. I realised again my own ego vul­ner­a­bil­i­ties and my need to be inter­con­nected in grass-roots, down to earth, counter-cul­tural Jesus discipleship.