This will probably be my most biased review to date. Tim Urmston (the pastor of Vineyard Westside) and I worked together years ago at Vineyard Community Church in Springdale, Ohio. Tim gave me my first shot teaching in a Christian context at Alpha way back in 2002. He started Vineyard Westside right around the same time Aaron Wright and I launched D’VINE. Plus, he’s just a swell fella.
I was actually pretty apprehensive about attending Vineyard Westside. For one, the west side of Cincinnati scares me. It’s like a whole different world over there. Not so much the people or neighborhoods (both are nice). Even though it is technically Cincinnati, it feels like a hundred miles away.
The other reason is because I know people at Vineyard Westside, so visiting in order to “critique” or “judge” seemed weird. I felt much less anonymous than I have up to this point in the experiment. I considered wearing a fake mustache and glasses, but that would have required way too much work.
I tried to hide in the corner, but the pastor and associate pastor both spotted me before the service began. Luckily, they only roughed me up for a few minutes before letting me return to my seat.
I am going to sum up my experience at Vineyard Westside with these three words: Cup Holder Pews.
A few weeks ago, I visited Good Shepherd Lutheran Church and was struck by how awkward the mix of traditional and modern looked. Not that it was bad, but bizarre. I asked if churches could honor the holy rituals of the past while simultaneously connecting with an emergent culture. I was skeptical … until Sunday.
I’m not saying Vineyard Westside does it perfectly, but they do it pretty well. They were able to honor the past while embracing the present and future. But more on that in a few minutes. First, the details:
The main room sat approximately three hundred people, and I estimated about 250 were in attendance. Vineyard Westside owns an old church building, so the inside looked like a modernized Catholic Church. Most people were white, but I did notice lots of young people wandering around. In fact, there was a lot happening throughout the building. It seemed like multiple meetings were happening at the same time, but maybe that’s just my imagination. If I had to guess, there were ministries to the poor and children going on during the main service. Overall, the church seemed “alive” with activity.
From beginning to end, it was a traditional “Vineyard” service (which is my background), so no real surprises for me. They started with worship, which was probably the best I have heard in thirteen weeks. Great band, nice voices, good energy, enjoyable song selection. In fact, it was probably the first time I’ve really been able to worship all year.
Communion was nice, but fast. It felt like an assembly line of people picking up their cracker, dipping it in the wine, and moving back to their seats. I have really enjoyed communion this year (I’ve taken communion more in 2009 than the previous eight years combined), but I’m just not sure how meaningful the experience is when there is very little time to pause and reflect on the significance behind the act.
After worship, the associate pastor came on stage and did the announcements. I’ve met Ryan before (but it’s been a while), and he and I stalk each other’s blogs, but I don’t really know him very well. Announcements definitely aren’t the time most speakers shine, but you can tell Ryan is a personable guy who is well-liked by the congregation. I saw him wandering around before the service talking to random folks. But not in some creepy, fake pastor way. It seemed genuine. As did the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. Sinner. Just kidding. I don’t really think about that kind of stuff (good or bad), but I’m sure it would make some people feel comfortable and freak others out.
They don’t take a normal offering at Vineyard Westside. Instead, they have a “seed box” that people drop cash and checks into at the end of the service. This was the first time a collection plate or bag wasn’t passed at a Christian church I’ve visited this year. Instead, for some reason, every time anyone says “seed box” from the stage, everyone cheers. And for some reason, whenever someone says “seed box” in any context, I giggle like a teenage boy.
Back to the Cup Holder Pews.
Because Vineyard Westside meets in an old church building, people sit in pews. But because this is a Vineyard church, they have attached cup holders to those pews. It looks funny. Not funny bad, just funny. Like a nun smoking a cigarette. Or an old man wearing jeans. Or the Cincinnati Bengals holding a Super Bowl trophy. The two images just don’t go together.
But that image really sums up Tim and Vineyard Westside. They do a good job connecting the historical Biblical narrative to the modern culture we all live in. Not many places are able to take stale Old Testament stories and make them come alive. Tim has always been someone who can make that happen. I believe reverence and relevance both came together in a special way on Sunday.
I find it fascinating how message-centered some churches are. Well, actually, I find it interesting how unmessage-centered many churches are. I have spent most of my adult life in churches where pastors are superstars. A requirement is the ability to stand up in front of an audience and deliver an eloquent, moving, entertaining, inspirational message. Like any celebrities, pastors become bigger than life. Christians speak of meeting Bill Hybels, or Erwin McManus, or Joel Osteen the same way we speak of meeting Brad Pitt or Tiger Woods.
At the church in Savannah, there wasn’t even a message! At St. Peter in Chains, the message was about ten minutes. At the Christian Scientist Church, the message was just reading from a book. At the Vineyard Westside, the message was the centerpiece of the service. This isn’t a criticism. I am a teacher, speaker, and writer, so I love a good message, but isn’t it interesting how essential public speaking has become in many churches today?
What I liked about Tim’s message was the call to action he gave the congregation. He began with Genesis 12:2: “I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.” I was just thinking about this verse the other day. Paraphrased, “I will bless you so you can be a blessing to others.”
God has blessed me. A lot. I have talents and gifts that other people don’t have. I have been placed in a job and neighborhood in which I have many opportunities to bless lots of people. But usually, I selfishly use my blessings to better my own life. Tim called people (especially the men) to step up and start blessing the world, their families, their coworkers, and their students.
The whole service was about eighty total minutes, and toward the end, Tim really got his preach on. Which again, only added to this interesting juxtaposition. A seeker-friendly environment that challenged people to live a Christ-centered life. I haven’t found that very often on my journey.
I think I was meant to show up at Vineyard Westside on Sunday. And here’s why:
For a long time, I have questioned the purpose of attending a church service. If you read my blog last fall, I wrote a five-part series trying to answer the question, “Why go to church?” By the end, I had very few answers. Part of the reason I’m doing the Church Experiment is because I knew I would have slept in every Sunday morning in 2009 if I wasn’t “forcing” myself to attend church. I was a fraction of an inch away from permanently bailing out on church. Not because I was leaving my faith, but because I truly believe some people can fulfill most functions of the church outside of the church. I can listen to great messages online, read the Bible and pray on my own, give to local charities, share my faith with thousands of people on campus, and build community with friends and neighbors. So, why go?
It hit me on Sunday. Tim traced the roots of Vineyard Westside. He talked about general church history, then Vineyard history, then his history with Steve Sjogren (the guy who started the original Vineyard Community Church in Cincinnati), then planting Vineyard Westside and watching it grow over the years. And that was when it all made sense. A local church is a family. A crazy, messed up, dysfunctional family, but a family nevertheless.
I recently heard the saying, “The church is a whore, but she’s my mother.” Man, that is true.
No matter how crazy the church drives me, we’re family. Hugging Tim on Sunday was like embracing a brother I hadn’t seen in months.
I cannot imagine going through life without my biological family—my parents, brother, sister, nieces, nephews. And I can’t imagine being eight years into this faith journey without my spiritual family—Evan, Workman, Shirkie, Sharon, Scott and Claire, Susan, Stecher, Aaron, Dressler, Tim, and the list could go on for many, many paragraphs. I barely even see most of those people anymore, but if I did, it would be like a family reunion.
I really, really, really miss that. I miss feeling like I am caught up in something bigger than myself. I miss walking into a room filled with friends on a spiritual mission. I’ve always considered myself a lone ranger. Jack Bauer of the Christian world (ummm … I wish). But no one can make an impact on this world as a free agent. I mean, come on, Jesus couldn’t do it by himself! Maybe that should have been my first clue that I need a community of friends to share the journey. Not to hang out with seven nights a week. Not to join three Bible studies. Not to sit around and pray all day long. But a family. A home. A place to find support and be supportive.
Yes, a church is so much more than just that, but being a part of the Westside Vineyard means you are a part of the Vineyard movement, which means you are a part of the Christian movement, which means you are a part of what God is doing in this world. And that’s a pretty cool family tree.
Church #13 means I am 25 percent done with the experiment! Time is flying, but there is still a long way to go. Many more churches on my radar screen. Much to be learned.
I made it out of the west side alive and well … even though some guy in a minivan did honk at me and flip me off for pulling out in front of him. But I didn’t pull out in front of him, so I went nuts and threatened his life. Now that’s a west side story!
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I was actually pretty apprehensive about attending Vineyard Westside. For one, the west side of Cincinnati scares me. It’s like a whole different world over there. Not so much the people or neighborhoods (both are nice). Even though it is technically Cincinnati, it feels like a hundred miles away.
The other reason is because I know people at Vineyard Westside, so visiting in order to “critique” or “judge” seemed weird. I felt much less anonymous than I have up to this point in the experiment. I considered wearing a fake mustache and glasses, but that would have required way too much work.
I tried to hide in the corner, but the pastor and associate pastor both spotted me before the service began. Luckily, they only roughed me up for a few minutes before letting me return to my seat.
I am going to sum up my experience at Vineyard Westside with these three words: Cup Holder Pews.
A few weeks ago, I visited Good Shepherd Lutheran Church and was struck by how awkward the mix of traditional and modern looked. Not that it was bad, but bizarre. I asked if churches could honor the holy rituals of the past while simultaneously connecting with an emergent culture. I was skeptical … until Sunday.
I’m not saying Vineyard Westside does it perfectly, but they do it pretty well. They were able to honor the past while embracing the present and future. But more on that in a few minutes. First, the details:
The main room sat approximately three hundred people, and I estimated about 250 were in attendance. Vineyard Westside owns an old church building, so the inside looked like a modernized Catholic Church. Most people were white, but I did notice lots of young people wandering around. In fact, there was a lot happening throughout the building. It seemed like multiple meetings were happening at the same time, but maybe that’s just my imagination. If I had to guess, there were ministries to the poor and children going on during the main service. Overall, the church seemed “alive” with activity.
From beginning to end, it was a traditional “Vineyard” service (which is my background), so no real surprises for me. They started with worship, which was probably the best I have heard in thirteen weeks. Great band, nice voices, good energy, enjoyable song selection. In fact, it was probably the first time I’ve really been able to worship all year.
Communion was nice, but fast. It felt like an assembly line of people picking up their cracker, dipping it in the wine, and moving back to their seats. I have really enjoyed communion this year (I’ve taken communion more in 2009 than the previous eight years combined), but I’m just not sure how meaningful the experience is when there is very little time to pause and reflect on the significance behind the act.
After worship, the associate pastor came on stage and did the announcements. I’ve met Ryan before (but it’s been a while), and he and I stalk each other’s blogs, but I don’t really know him very well. Announcements definitely aren’t the time most speakers shine, but you can tell Ryan is a personable guy who is well-liked by the congregation. I saw him wandering around before the service talking to random folks. But not in some creepy, fake pastor way. It seemed genuine. As did the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. Sinner. Just kidding. I don’t really think about that kind of stuff (good or bad), but I’m sure it would make some people feel comfortable and freak others out.
They don’t take a normal offering at Vineyard Westside. Instead, they have a “seed box” that people drop cash and checks into at the end of the service. This was the first time a collection plate or bag wasn’t passed at a Christian church I’ve visited this year. Instead, for some reason, every time anyone says “seed box” from the stage, everyone cheers. And for some reason, whenever someone says “seed box” in any context, I giggle like a teenage boy.
Back to the Cup Holder Pews.
Because Vineyard Westside meets in an old church building, people sit in pews. But because this is a Vineyard church, they have attached cup holders to those pews. It looks funny. Not funny bad, just funny. Like a nun smoking a cigarette. Or an old man wearing jeans. Or the Cincinnati Bengals holding a Super Bowl trophy. The two images just don’t go together.
But that image really sums up Tim and Vineyard Westside. They do a good job connecting the historical Biblical narrative to the modern culture we all live in. Not many places are able to take stale Old Testament stories and make them come alive. Tim has always been someone who can make that happen. I believe reverence and relevance both came together in a special way on Sunday.
I find it fascinating how message-centered some churches are. Well, actually, I find it interesting how unmessage-centered many churches are. I have spent most of my adult life in churches where pastors are superstars. A requirement is the ability to stand up in front of an audience and deliver an eloquent, moving, entertaining, inspirational message. Like any celebrities, pastors become bigger than life. Christians speak of meeting Bill Hybels, or Erwin McManus, or Joel Osteen the same way we speak of meeting Brad Pitt or Tiger Woods.
At the church in Savannah, there wasn’t even a message! At St. Peter in Chains, the message was about ten minutes. At the Christian Scientist Church, the message was just reading from a book. At the Vineyard Westside, the message was the centerpiece of the service. This isn’t a criticism. I am a teacher, speaker, and writer, so I love a good message, but isn’t it interesting how essential public speaking has become in many churches today?
What I liked about Tim’s message was the call to action he gave the congregation. He began with Genesis 12:2: “I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.” I was just thinking about this verse the other day. Paraphrased, “I will bless you so you can be a blessing to others.”
God has blessed me. A lot. I have talents and gifts that other people don’t have. I have been placed in a job and neighborhood in which I have many opportunities to bless lots of people. But usually, I selfishly use my blessings to better my own life. Tim called people (especially the men) to step up and start blessing the world, their families, their coworkers, and their students.
The whole service was about eighty total minutes, and toward the end, Tim really got his preach on. Which again, only added to this interesting juxtaposition. A seeker-friendly environment that challenged people to live a Christ-centered life. I haven’t found that very often on my journey.
I think I was meant to show up at Vineyard Westside on Sunday. And here’s why:
For a long time, I have questioned the purpose of attending a church service. If you read my blog last fall, I wrote a five-part series trying to answer the question, “Why go to church?” By the end, I had very few answers. Part of the reason I’m doing the Church Experiment is because I knew I would have slept in every Sunday morning in 2009 if I wasn’t “forcing” myself to attend church. I was a fraction of an inch away from permanently bailing out on church. Not because I was leaving my faith, but because I truly believe some people can fulfill most functions of the church outside of the church. I can listen to great messages online, read the Bible and pray on my own, give to local charities, share my faith with thousands of people on campus, and build community with friends and neighbors. So, why go?
It hit me on Sunday. Tim traced the roots of Vineyard Westside. He talked about general church history, then Vineyard history, then his history with Steve Sjogren (the guy who started the original Vineyard Community Church in Cincinnati), then planting Vineyard Westside and watching it grow over the years. And that was when it all made sense. A local church is a family. A crazy, messed up, dysfunctional family, but a family nevertheless.
I recently heard the saying, “The church is a whore, but she’s my mother.” Man, that is true.
No matter how crazy the church drives me, we’re family. Hugging Tim on Sunday was like embracing a brother I hadn’t seen in months.
I cannot imagine going through life without my biological family—my parents, brother, sister, nieces, nephews. And I can’t imagine being eight years into this faith journey without my spiritual family—Evan, Workman, Shirkie, Sharon, Scott and Claire, Susan, Stecher, Aaron, Dressler, Tim, and the list could go on for many, many paragraphs. I barely even see most of those people anymore, but if I did, it would be like a family reunion.
I really, really, really miss that. I miss feeling like I am caught up in something bigger than myself. I miss walking into a room filled with friends on a spiritual mission. I’ve always considered myself a lone ranger. Jack Bauer of the Christian world (ummm … I wish). But no one can make an impact on this world as a free agent. I mean, come on, Jesus couldn’t do it by himself! Maybe that should have been my first clue that I need a community of friends to share the journey. Not to hang out with seven nights a week. Not to join three Bible studies. Not to sit around and pray all day long. But a family. A home. A place to find support and be supportive.
Yes, a church is so much more than just that, but being a part of the Westside Vineyard means you are a part of the Vineyard movement, which means you are a part of the Christian movement, which means you are a part of what God is doing in this world. And that’s a pretty cool family tree.
Church #13 means I am 25 percent done with the experiment! Time is flying, but there is still a long way to go. Many more churches on my radar screen. Much to be learned.
I made it out of the west side alive and well … even though some guy in a minivan did honk at me and flip me off for pulling out in front of him. But I didn’t pull out in front of him, so I went nuts and threatened his life. Now that’s a west side story!
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
