Speaking broadly: extremes aren’t generally a good thing. But my, how we humans are attracted to them like moths to a flame, or — more accurately — like flies to rotting meat. I don’t think I have to work too hard to defend this asseveration, but for what it’s worth, have you ever noticed that most reviews are either 5-star or 1-star? Or that things are either “the best” or “the worst?” Or that most people either love or hate certain politicians and celebrities? We love our polarized extremes, and it’s startlingly obvious even after only a cursory glance at our culture.
This, of course, has myriad applications, but seeing as I already have a podcast dedicated to seeking a balanced approach to our beliefs and behaviors in the midst of an extremes-oriented society, I’m not going to delve into all of those possibilities here. Instead, I want to discuss just one aspect of how our tendency to flock to the far end of any given spectrum is harmful and unproductive: specifically, how this so often affects our choice of church and even denominational tradition.
here goes
Simply put, I believe our naturally extremist bent is why many different types of churches (of widely varying doctrines and denominations) are packed to the gills and growing while others aren’t nearly as filled. Now, let’s get this out of the way: in fairness, there’s at least a dozen easy reasons why numerous churches aren’t flourishing or filled that have nothing to do with extremes: it could just be location, bad doctrine, awful fellowship, incompetent leadership, ignorant pastors, and the list goes on and on. But the longer I live (and pastor a church), the more I am impelled to wonder if those factors aren’t the largest on the list. In fact, I am starting to believe that perhaps the greatest reason why some types of churches are filled and others are empty — even within the same denominational sphere — isn’t based on the doctrine or the fellowship or other more immediately intuitive factors; instead, I think it’s because some churches and denominations appeal to our innate predilection towards extreme positions more than others.
hear me out…
Please bear in mind that when I say “extreme” I don’t necessarily mean “snake handling churches” or “holy rolling down the aisles.” No, I have in mind other kinds of extremes. By way of example, the first sort that comes to my mind is the IFB (Independent Fundamental Baptist)-style church. I think of this first because it is my denominational background as a Christian. In my experience, I learned (amidst many otherwise good and true doctrines) that Baptists were the first Christians, descended from a “Trail of Blood” beginning with Jesus (they did not), and that the King James Version is the only perfectly preserved Word of God for English-speaking people (it is not) and all other Bibles are perversions (they are not). Also, drums were bad (except some kinds?), men don’t wear pink (those homos), women don’t wear pants (it’s an abomination, you know), and God would very much like you to use a real Bible, not your phone (well, this one might be okay). But despite the glaring inaccuracies, inconsistencies, and general harmfulness of many of their beliefs and behaviors, IFB churches are in no immediate danger of a mass exodus anytime soon. On the contrary, IFB churches are often packed to the gills on Sundays!
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not just punching backward on my way out the IFB door. This applies to all kinds of churches and denominational traditions — when I look around on Sunday mornings, I see them all: from heavily reformed churches to Roman Catholic churches to Orthodox churches to Mennonite Brethren, there’s no dearth of churches bursting at the seams, some of them more so now than ever.
Well…why?
Of course, this has caused many to ask “why,” and if you were to ask various thought leaders and pollsters, especially those within some of these growing traditions, you’d hear that it’s because people are craving a return to order, structure, authority, clear gender roles, and regulative traditions. And I think there’s something to that, to be sure. Others cite it’s often due to something of a personality cult, some state it’s because these churches are typically smaller, and others will claim it’s because the seeker-sensitive church is finally losing its charm (and not a moment too soon, says I). And I truly believe there’s merit to each of these claims.
But I still think there’s more to it than even these reasons. I think that my impression of our tendency toward extremes provides equal or greater explanatory power for the fact that many churches across seemingly unrelated denominational lines are becoming (or at least remaining) populous churches despite what I believe are unfounded or incorrect beliefs and behaviors.
So let’s examine this: Given that IFB churches (and their ilk), heavily Reformed churches, Orthodox churches, Roman Catholic churches, and other similar growing/steady churches have very little in common between them, what do they have in common? It’s not tradition: IFB churches and tradition go together about as well as Arius and Nicolas did at Nicea (I know, I know, it’s apparently probably a fable, but a man can dream). It’s not size. It’s not personality. And it’s not liturgy. These churches really have none of these things in common.
I submit to you that the common denominator is that these sort of churches nurture the tendency we all have to gravitate toward the extreme end of whatever spectrum we inhabit. Before you throw your phone or laptop in extreme righteous indignation, I implore you to consider this. The IFB, for example, promises security, certainty, and authority, and at the same time it assures us that any Christians outside of her ranks are gullible or duplicitous or somehow both. Heavily reformed churches give no quarter to those who might suggest there’s a flaw in Calvin’s or Baxter’s thinking (like poor Servetus who dared to try), but will instead pray for you to, well, wise up and become like them. Roman Catholic and Orthodox churches will not abide your dissent, either — you shape up or ship out. Their way is the correct way, and everyone else is a “lapsed brother” at best (and that’s only if you’re cool with Vatican II). Do you see what I mean by “extreme end of the spectrum?” These churches apply their inflexibility not only to the Scriptures and its explicit doctrines, but also just as much toward their own secondary and tertiary positions, as well.
But wait, there’s more
In fact, for all the obvious flaws of the modernist ecclesiastical movement and all of her megachurches and popular programs, she at least allowed for some liberty and variance in beliefs and behaviors (arguably too much, I’ll concede, but that’s a discussion for another day). And that’s exactly to my point: the megachurch movement was extreme back when it was “cool,” but now that it’s not, it’s lost its edge, its appeal, its extremeness, and is now hemorrhaging people. When no churches had large bands or praise teams or sweet-looking lecterns or t-shirt-wearing pastors or light shows, megachurches were popular because they were on the cutting-edge, the far limits, the outer reaches. They pushed and prodded and embraced controversy in the name of their beliefs, poking tradition in the eye because they could (and thought they should). But now, all of that is passé. What is in now (again) is the other extreme because it is now, well, extreme: austerity, restraint, tradition, and unflinching rigidity in liturgy and performance.
So what I’m saying is that it’s not as much about the content of these churches that makes them so popular as much as it about about what they represent, or — more accurately — what they nourish. So where the IFB says, “If you attend a church that has a praise team or uses drums, you should leave that church,” the heavily Reformed folks say, “If you attend a church that uses maracas and dances, you should leave that church,” and the Roman Catholics say, “If you attend a church that doesn’t perform the mass or responsorial Psalms, you should leave that church.” Do you see it? It’s different, but it’s all the same. They’re all right in their own minds, and everyone else who disagrees isn’t just different: they’re straight-up wrong. And these churches are filled not with careful, nuanced parishioners, but rather by people who crave this sort of extremism and certainty and security and find this lust, this desire, this need slaked in these churches.
A personal-ish anecdote
A pastor who is a very, very dear friend of mine just this week lost about a dozen people in his already-small church (at once) after concluding a long, careful, thoughtful, nuanced, in-depth, institute-style study on Bible translations with his church body. His conclusion was that, though they would still treasure and use the King James Version (for what I believe were very valid reasons), this pastor could not in good conscience preach that only the King James Version was the inspired Word of God. He also stated that Christians would generally benefit from consulting multiple translations in their study. For this, he suffered great loss. His crime? Leaving an extreme position that had no Biblical or academic support in favor of embracing a much, much better and well-supported one. You’ll note that the study was careful and deliberate, while the members’ choice to leave en masse was reactionary and impulsive.
Just a couple of days later, this same pastor received a Facebook message from a stranger asking if it was worth the trip up to visit his church in anticipation of joining — he wanted to know if the pastor believed exactly as he did about the King James Version, as well as some other outlandish theological specificities that were tertiary at best. The pastor was not able to affirm the extreme positions of this stranger, and so the would-be relationship immediately fizzled, much to this pastor’s dismay and added sorrow.
And that’s just one pastor in one week. It should be clear that the idea of nuance and careful balance and critical thinking just isn’t sexy or spicy enough to meet the needs of Christians who, having drunk deeply from the poisoned well of our culture, are satisfied only with theological extremism. Balance and moderation and discussion simply don’t make the headlines in a headline-hungry culture where we only have time and appetite for sure-sounding things and authoritative sound bites to satiate our want for extremism, cleverly manifested as certainty or hierarchy or tradition or superiority. As a result, many churches that are known for their resolute and adamant stubbornness are increasingly popular, whether they be Protestant or Roman Catholic or otherwise — the doctrine doesn’t matter nearly as much as the certainty does.
in conclusion…
Don’t get me wrong: when I look at Facebook on Sunday afternoons and see pews filled with people in other churches while mine hasn’t seen a baptism in a year, my first instinct isn’t to say, “well, they must be extremists or seeker-sensitive compromisers or something.” No, not at all. God forbid, in fact! No, I should and do rejoice with them for the success of the Kingdom while examining my own effectiveness for the Kingdom. Nor do I think that every Reformed or Orthodox church (or whatever) belongs in the crosshairs of my present excoriations. Not at all.
At the same time, I nonetheless maintain that whether it’s the ol’ IFB country church in rural Tennessee or Steven Anderson’s church or a Roman Catholic church or Sovereign Grace Reformed Church of Sovereign Sovereignty (I kid, I kid), there does seem to be a common thread that is woven deep into the fabric of many of these churches that is characterized by a promotion and facilitation of theological extremes in the name of protecting good doctrine or continuing traditions. All at the cost of accuracy, unity, and Kingdom efficiency.
In the end, Paul’s whole “heaping to themselves teachers, having itching ears” harbinger to Timothy might not have been reserved only for the likes of Benny Hinn’s or Creflo Dollar’s churches after all. It might have been for the church you attend.
