Dan Krotz – There is a 10 a.m. church service every Sunday morning at Chelsea’s Cafe and Bar down on Mountain Street. I haven’t attended services there (yet) because I’ve judged it as that commonest example of bringing Jesus “to the people.” In this case, I’m guessing, to folks who feel more comfortable in saloons on Sunday morning than sitting in a church pew next to someone wearing one of those lamentable Lutheran sweaters decorated with reindeer.
There’s a lot of this going around these days. You can’t turn sideways without hearing about some sort of Cowboy Church popping up, and there’s more chance of a banjo player getting a paying gig in a church than anywhere else. Whether these are actual churches, or just an arm of the entertainment industry, is anyone’s guess.
The argument for such “outreach ministries” is strong. Christ, for instance, avoided the places run by Pharisees and Sadducees, and lived and worked among the bikers, outcasts, and sinners of the day. And, taking the Letters of St. Paul to heart, there is a growing incidence of people gathering in private homes to worship, and to celebrate the Good News. What happens at Chelsea’s on Sunday morning may eloquently and simply be First Century Christianity in action.
Our most fundamentally and yet understated of Christian writers, Walker Percy, wrote in The Moviegoer that, “The search [for meaning] is what anyone would undertake if he were not sunk in the everydayness of his own life. To become aware of the possibility of the search is to be onto something. Not to be onto something is to be in despair.” Percy has described how religion is – whether lovingly embraced or guiltily rejected – that most accessible of destinations in the search for meaning in our otherwise non-reflective and increasingly despairing culture. If the choice is between despair and Jesus, Jesus is a good bet.
The question then is, where do you place your bet? Lately, it hasn’t been in mainline Christian denominations, and bets aren’t being placed by younger Americans, either. The 2014 Landscape Study, by the Pew Research Center, documented a significant increase in the number of the religiously unaffiliated, mostly Millennials (people born after 1980). Among this group, slightly less than half believe in God with certainty, and only a quarter or so attend church on a weekly basis. Their Boomer parents are more like their Silent Generation grandparents: 70% believe in God with absolute certainty, and more than half attend a church service regularly.
People have been making small bets on the Mormons, the Assemblies of God, and the Seventh Day Adventists, each showing an uptick of about 2% in membership over the past 10 years. What is curious, or at least interesting about these three denominations, is that each is a particularly American invention; they were born in the USA and have no connection to the Protestant Reformation. Every other Christian denomination, except for Roman Catholics – who benefit from immigration –show a loss in membership, especially mainline denominations.
Bricks and mortar churches are working hard to reverse the trend – they have always worked hard – but it’s impossible to know if they can reverse the demographic tidal wave coming at them. Historically, they’ve served as essential treads in the fabric of civic life, and were reliable sources for hearing the great music, discussing the big ideas, and finding meaning within the everydayness of life. If they are still that reliable source, I suppose, is in the eye of the beholder; I continue to be hopeful about their chances, but admit that swimming against the growing number of sour end-timers is tough.
Christian activists, particularly those with a political agenda, describe these trends as a result of the “War on Christians,” but that seems too easy. There are more than 160 Christian Churches in Carroll County – one for every 165 people – and only about 12 gas stations and one place to buy better socks. If there’s a war on anything, it’s more likely to be on convenience stores and socks.