Rob Bell and the Art of Sneaking Out the Back Door

Who knows how many church services I have endured. As a preacher's kid for most of my childhood, I am sure the number is staggering. Wednesday nights, Sunday school, Sunday nights, Sunday mornings (which always cut into the Bears game), Easter "Sunrise Services" (coupled with fake eggs and stiff pancakes), New Years Eve "Watch Nights" (I have no clue what we were watching), quarterly Potluck meals in the basement with weird food made by weirder people and their leftovers, and week-long summer Bible camps with multiple meetings every day---in other words, a butt-load of time spent in strange gatherings with strange language and strangers.

When you're the pastor's son, you cannot really declare your disinterest and leave in the middle of the sermon. I am 33 now, though, and I have developed quite the knack for early departures in my old age. Lately, it's been after what people call "Worship." I have a serious case of sick-of-three-songs-a-sermon-and-an-offering-itis. A nasty syndrome. Contagious? I hope so.

My disease started a year ago or more, which is remarkable considering I took a ten year hiatus from church attendance through most of my twenties. Where did I catch it? I am tempted to say, "The Bible," but who knows?

I know I am not the only one tired of the formulaic posturing we go through on Sundays. What is the point of it? The show must go on.

Rob Bell's latest, Jesus Wants to Save Christians (A Manifesto for the Church in Exile), gets to the root of this, I think. He writes, "When the goal of a church is to get people into church services and then teach them how to invite people to come to church services, so that they in turn will bring others to more church services - that's attendance at church services" (p. 160). It's like "Feed me, Seymour!" We have cultivated a giant plant which requires food--but does nothing other than sit there with its mouth open. It devours more and more resources while distracting us from the real world. Horror, indeed.

So, I've been leaving early or not going at all. I do hang with the teenagers because you can at least be real with them. I have no idea what to do. "Church hopping" will most likely be futile and lead to greater levels of frustration. The people (some of whom are church staff) I confess my sickness to offer little hope. I know others around my same age who share at least most of my outlook. We commiserate: "Where is the connection? Where is the outward focus? What are we doing here? What's the 'big picture?'"

Bell goes on, "If our church was taken away - from our city, our neighborhood, our region - who would protest?" (p. 166). Would I? My belief in God is still bigger than my discontent, thankfully; although I am not sure that is as comforting as it should be.

My options?
1. Suck it up
2. Quit going
3. Complain to pastor
4. Start my own "thing" (scary)
5. Go Catholic (way more scary)

Maybe I have logged enough hours in a pew/church chair to last me the rest of my life. (Knew I should have kept those receipts. Dang.)

There is one last quotation from the book I am banking on. "Jesus wants to save our church from the exile of irrelevance" (p. 174). I want that. I'd be willing to be part of that effort. Where do I sign up? I loathe people that bitch and moan without being willing to pitch in. Put me in, coach. You'll find me at the back of the church---one foot out the door but really wanting to get drawn in again.