In Gennesaret

I have something to confess: I don’t confess things often enough. And I’m betting you don’t either. I heard a really thought-provoking interview the other day with Jamin Goggin talking about his new book, Pastoral Confessions . They talked about the fact that Protestants really threw the confession baby out with the bathwater when they broke off from Catholicism. Scripture talks all the time about confessing our sins, and even specifically about doing so with our brothers and sisters in Christ. “Confess your sins to each other,” James urges, “and pray for each other, so that you may be healed.” And we SO don’t do that. We’re almost offended at the idea that we should. Forget that it’s clearly biblical teaching. We’re good at picking and choosing and re-interpreting scripture. It’s one of our biggest faults – one that we really need to . . . ahem . . . confess. We have made the Christian faith so very American – that is, so very individualistic . It’s all about me and God. End of ...

Don’t anyone get offended here, but I’m just not a megachurch gal.  I’m not knocking the phenomenon. Well, maybe a bit. But I’m definitely not knocking the people involved in the phenomenon. I have many loved ones in my life whose faith I don’t question one bit who do the megachurch thing. But it’s not for me. It just doesn’t feel right. On so many levels. It’s not just that they create a temptation for Sunday mornings (or afternoons or Saturday evenings) to become showtime -- although they do create that temptation. The fact is, when your service meets in a vast auditorium that seats a thousand, the struggle against the performative is real – whether you do worship in a contemporary style with a band and stage lights and special effects reminiscent of a rock concert or do it in a traditional style with a five-hundred voice choir and thirty-piece orchestra.  But no, the music isn't my main issue. It’s the ease of being anonymous in such a large crowd. Of being nothing more...