This week, I chose Montgomery Community Church because I attended a couple of years ago (an old friend—and someone I deeply admire—is on staff), and I enjoyed my previous experience. It had a very “Vineyardy” feel to it. Also, I needed a Saturday night service because a friend of mine was getting baptized Sunday at a church I already visited, and MCC is one of the few churches in Cincinnati that meets Saturday evenings.
First, I must say, Montgomery Community Church frustrated me before I ever stepped through their doors. One thing I always try to do when I select churches is visit them on a good day, meaning I look for a sermon series that seems interesting and try very hard to attend when the lead pastor is speaking. If a church doesn't have a Web site, no big deal, but MCC does. It just wasn't updated this week, so I had no idea what the message was going to be or who would be speaking. I wanted to get MCC at its best, and that simply didn't happen Saturday evening.
I was greeted at the front door and handed a program. MCC’s main room is fairly large, seating around eight hundred people (just an estimate. It’s hard to tell when the room is that large). Approximately 125 people were in attendance, but the pastor did mention a normal weekend draws over two thousand, so I’m guessing all three Sunday services must be pretty full. Most people were white, and overall, it was an older crowd.
The service began with worship, which was actually very good. I’m not sure people really got into the “worship” part of the experience (which I suppose is missing the point), but the band was extremely talented. The music was loud, which is a bonus for me. For some reason, I have always enjoyed loud worship music (as long as it’s good). The set had the feel of a rock concert, which I actually prefer, but one glance around the room revealed a small percentage of the congregation participating (singing, dancing, raising hands). Again, not a problem for me. I prefer hearing talented performers over the tone deaf dude standing next to me shrieking his broken lyrics to the Lord.
After twenty-five minutes of worship, they took up an offering and prayed. Then, Pastor Kim walked on stage to speak. The first thing she did was ask us to turn to our neighbor and say, “There is a leader in you.” I loathe when pastors ask people to do this kind of stuff in church. It is lame and makes me feel uncomfortable, so please stop it. Plus, my neighbor refused to tell me there is a leader inside of me. I was crushed.
Pastor Kim (Kim is a first name. She is a woman, not an Asian guy) was the youth pastor, so she had lots of energy, but man, that was a tough room. Seriously, even recalling what happened in order to write about the experience is making me sleepy. Maybe it had something to do with being an evening service, or the number of empty seats, but there was absolutely no energy in the room at all. Pastor Kim made some pretty good jokes that fell flat. She literally made one joke where not a single person laughed. Not one.
The dude in front of me kept falling asleep. I know it’s a pretty popular joke that people fall asleep in church, but I’m not sure I have ever seen it before.
It may have been the message’s content. The talk focused on leadership and definitely felt more like a classroom lesson than a sermon. Which isn’t always a bad thing. I am perfectly fine with getting quality practical information in church, but most of the content simply wasn’t connecting with people.
Pastor Kim tied all of her leadership principles to the story of Nehemiah, which I already listened to Mark Driscoll do a couple of years ago on a podcast series. She also mentioned Bill Hybels’ idea of a “Holy Discontent,” which I heard Hybels himself do a few years ago at the Leadership Summit. I even wrote about it on my blog.
As she wrapped up, Pastor Kim told us to turn to our neighbor and say, “There is a modern-day Nehemiah in you.” Again, my neighbor was silent.
Speaking of my neighbor, this week was the only time someone other than my girlfriend joined me on a visit. There is a back-story to her participation, but it’s going to be rapid-fire, so strap in.
In 2000, I became a Christian. In 2002, I began dating a woman named Pamela. Pamela connected me to Randy, who was leaving Cincinnati and needed someone to fill his role leading Alpha at Vineyard Community Church. I interviewed for the job and didn’t get it. A man named Tim also interviewed for the job. He got it.
Someone told Tim I was a pretty good speaker and should be given the opportunity to speak at Alpha. So, he invited me into the rotation. Pamela started working for Tim. I started working for the Vineyard in a different role, but I continued to speak at Alpha. Tim and I became friends. In 2005, Tim and I left the Vineyard around the same time to plant churches. Mine was in Clifton. His was the Vineyard Westside. We stayed in touch.
Over the past few years, Tim and I have run into each other from time to time. When we do, it’s always a fun reunion. Earlier this year, I visited Vineyard Westside as part of the Church Experiment.
Then, a couple of months ago, Tim’s wife, Joanne, e-mailed me about their teenage daughter. She decided to step out of her father’s church and explore other places of worship in Cincinnati. Because Joanne knew about the Church Experiment, she asked me for suggestions. I gave a couple and offered to chat with their daughter, Sarah.
I was immediately impressed. Sarah is intelligent, a deep thinker, and a talented writer. And even though she calls me “gramps,” Sarah is a great girl. Over the past year, she has become like a little sister to me (especially the way she mocks me … a lot), and since Sarah was also in a seeking stage, I thought it would be fun for her to join me one week. She agreed, and we planned to visit Montgomery Community Church because I hoped she would connect with the service, which led to a couple of the most awkward moments I have experienced in a very long time.
Awkward Moment #1: I wrote Sarah’s father (remember, my friend, Tim, who is only a few years older than me) an e-mail asking permission to take his daughter to church Saturday evening. How do you write that letter?
Dear Tim, can your teenage daughter go to church with me this weekend? P.S. I am not creepy.
Awkward Moment #2: I picked Sarah up at her house. It was the first time in ten years I have picked a girl up at her house. I resisted the urge to stop and buy a corsage. Joanne answered the door, and I felt sixteen again. It’s super weird how that context takes you right back to being an insecure kid.
Despite the awkwardness, Sarah and I enjoyed our visit. She also wasn’t impressed with the service, but at least she was willing to explore.
Pastor Kim closed by saying she loved us, which is nice, but odd. She doesn’t even know me, so I didn’t really take the words to heart.
And that was all she wrote. Sarah and I were out of there in a little over an hour.
When I got home Saturday night, something kept gnawing at me that I couldn’t put into words. Then, Sunday morning, I attended Vineyard Westside to watch one of my best friends get baptized. I already attended the church in March, but Sunday was an absolute treat.
It helped me figure out what was happening Saturday night at MCC. The service Saturday seemed to be devoid of life. No energy. No enthusiasm. Sunday morning at Vineyard Westside was a party. (Or, as Tim said, a par-tay.) Of course, I may have caught MCC on a bad night and Vineyard Westside on a great morning. After all, it was a Saturday evening in the middle of summer with a relatively small crowd. I didn’t have a ton of energy myself, so I’m willing to give MCC the benefit of the doubt.
With that said, I have spent way too many weekends sitting in churches that felt like funerals. Christians have to get over themselves. Church should be fun, right? Maybe not every moment of every week—there is serious business that needs to be addressed from time to time—but let’s remember that church is a celebration. A victory party. The war is over. Not sure if you’ve made it to that chapter of the Bible yet, but we won! Despite of the crappiness of this world, we won. When we gather together as a Body, shouldn’t we be celebrating that victory?
I know it’s rare in Cincinnati sports, but have you ever won a championship? There are parades, and parties, and people take off work, and overall, it’s a good freaking time. As a Christian, every day we win. Every day we should be celebrating that victory. And yet, we walk into church like robots and walk out like zombies.
Does anyone else find this behavior strange?
I’m not saying we should fake happiness. Pretending is lame. You will have bad days. We all do. And when life goes wrong, we’re allowed to mourn. But if your life is one nonstop wake, well, good luck with that. I prefer to party. I prefer to celebrate my freedom. And I want a church that knows how to have a good time. A church that knows how to laugh.
The baptisms at Vineyard Westside were simply amazing. Over forty people shared their stories and got dunked. And man, there were some unbelievable stories. It was a good reminder that God is in the business of redemption. No matter how messed up you are, no matter how many times you have screwed up, no matter how ugly your story is, God is ready to step in and restore you.
And he’s definitely ready to par-tay with you. Anyone who tells you otherwise is trapped in religion. But Jesus didn’t come to bring religion; he came to bring life.
The serious business of loving Jesus should be a helluva good time.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
First, I must say, Montgomery Community Church frustrated me before I ever stepped through their doors. One thing I always try to do when I select churches is visit them on a good day, meaning I look for a sermon series that seems interesting and try very hard to attend when the lead pastor is speaking. If a church doesn't have a Web site, no big deal, but MCC does. It just wasn't updated this week, so I had no idea what the message was going to be or who would be speaking. I wanted to get MCC at its best, and that simply didn't happen Saturday evening.
I was greeted at the front door and handed a program. MCC’s main room is fairly large, seating around eight hundred people (just an estimate. It’s hard to tell when the room is that large). Approximately 125 people were in attendance, but the pastor did mention a normal weekend draws over two thousand, so I’m guessing all three Sunday services must be pretty full. Most people were white, and overall, it was an older crowd.
The service began with worship, which was actually very good. I’m not sure people really got into the “worship” part of the experience (which I suppose is missing the point), but the band was extremely talented. The music was loud, which is a bonus for me. For some reason, I have always enjoyed loud worship music (as long as it’s good). The set had the feel of a rock concert, which I actually prefer, but one glance around the room revealed a small percentage of the congregation participating (singing, dancing, raising hands). Again, not a problem for me. I prefer hearing talented performers over the tone deaf dude standing next to me shrieking his broken lyrics to the Lord.
After twenty-five minutes of worship, they took up an offering and prayed. Then, Pastor Kim walked on stage to speak. The first thing she did was ask us to turn to our neighbor and say, “There is a leader in you.” I loathe when pastors ask people to do this kind of stuff in church. It is lame and makes me feel uncomfortable, so please stop it. Plus, my neighbor refused to tell me there is a leader inside of me. I was crushed.
Pastor Kim (Kim is a first name. She is a woman, not an Asian guy) was the youth pastor, so she had lots of energy, but man, that was a tough room. Seriously, even recalling what happened in order to write about the experience is making me sleepy. Maybe it had something to do with being an evening service, or the number of empty seats, but there was absolutely no energy in the room at all. Pastor Kim made some pretty good jokes that fell flat. She literally made one joke where not a single person laughed. Not one.
The dude in front of me kept falling asleep. I know it’s a pretty popular joke that people fall asleep in church, but I’m not sure I have ever seen it before.
It may have been the message’s content. The talk focused on leadership and definitely felt more like a classroom lesson than a sermon. Which isn’t always a bad thing. I am perfectly fine with getting quality practical information in church, but most of the content simply wasn’t connecting with people.
Pastor Kim tied all of her leadership principles to the story of Nehemiah, which I already listened to Mark Driscoll do a couple of years ago on a podcast series. She also mentioned Bill Hybels’ idea of a “Holy Discontent,” which I heard Hybels himself do a few years ago at the Leadership Summit. I even wrote about it on my blog.
As she wrapped up, Pastor Kim told us to turn to our neighbor and say, “There is a modern-day Nehemiah in you.” Again, my neighbor was silent.
Speaking of my neighbor, this week was the only time someone other than my girlfriend joined me on a visit. There is a back-story to her participation, but it’s going to be rapid-fire, so strap in.
In 2000, I became a Christian. In 2002, I began dating a woman named Pamela. Pamela connected me to Randy, who was leaving Cincinnati and needed someone to fill his role leading Alpha at Vineyard Community Church. I interviewed for the job and didn’t get it. A man named Tim also interviewed for the job. He got it.
Someone told Tim I was a pretty good speaker and should be given the opportunity to speak at Alpha. So, he invited me into the rotation. Pamela started working for Tim. I started working for the Vineyard in a different role, but I continued to speak at Alpha. Tim and I became friends. In 2005, Tim and I left the Vineyard around the same time to plant churches. Mine was in Clifton. His was the Vineyard Westside. We stayed in touch.
Over the past few years, Tim and I have run into each other from time to time. When we do, it’s always a fun reunion. Earlier this year, I visited Vineyard Westside as part of the Church Experiment.
Then, a couple of months ago, Tim’s wife, Joanne, e-mailed me about their teenage daughter. She decided to step out of her father’s church and explore other places of worship in Cincinnati. Because Joanne knew about the Church Experiment, she asked me for suggestions. I gave a couple and offered to chat with their daughter, Sarah.
I was immediately impressed. Sarah is intelligent, a deep thinker, and a talented writer. And even though she calls me “gramps,” Sarah is a great girl. Over the past year, she has become like a little sister to me (especially the way she mocks me … a lot), and since Sarah was also in a seeking stage, I thought it would be fun for her to join me one week. She agreed, and we planned to visit Montgomery Community Church because I hoped she would connect with the service, which led to a couple of the most awkward moments I have experienced in a very long time.
Awkward Moment #1: I wrote Sarah’s father (remember, my friend, Tim, who is only a few years older than me) an e-mail asking permission to take his daughter to church Saturday evening. How do you write that letter?
Dear Tim, can your teenage daughter go to church with me this weekend? P.S. I am not creepy.
Awkward Moment #2: I picked Sarah up at her house. It was the first time in ten years I have picked a girl up at her house. I resisted the urge to stop and buy a corsage. Joanne answered the door, and I felt sixteen again. It’s super weird how that context takes you right back to being an insecure kid.
Despite the awkwardness, Sarah and I enjoyed our visit. She also wasn’t impressed with the service, but at least she was willing to explore.
Pastor Kim closed by saying she loved us, which is nice, but odd. She doesn’t even know me, so I didn’t really take the words to heart.
And that was all she wrote. Sarah and I were out of there in a little over an hour.
When I got home Saturday night, something kept gnawing at me that I couldn’t put into words. Then, Sunday morning, I attended Vineyard Westside to watch one of my best friends get baptized. I already attended the church in March, but Sunday was an absolute treat.
It helped me figure out what was happening Saturday night at MCC. The service Saturday seemed to be devoid of life. No energy. No enthusiasm. Sunday morning at Vineyard Westside was a party. (Or, as Tim said, a par-tay.) Of course, I may have caught MCC on a bad night and Vineyard Westside on a great morning. After all, it was a Saturday evening in the middle of summer with a relatively small crowd. I didn’t have a ton of energy myself, so I’m willing to give MCC the benefit of the doubt.
With that said, I have spent way too many weekends sitting in churches that felt like funerals. Christians have to get over themselves. Church should be fun, right? Maybe not every moment of every week—there is serious business that needs to be addressed from time to time—but let’s remember that church is a celebration. A victory party. The war is over. Not sure if you’ve made it to that chapter of the Bible yet, but we won! Despite of the crappiness of this world, we won. When we gather together as a Body, shouldn’t we be celebrating that victory?
I know it’s rare in Cincinnati sports, but have you ever won a championship? There are parades, and parties, and people take off work, and overall, it’s a good freaking time. As a Christian, every day we win. Every day we should be celebrating that victory. And yet, we walk into church like robots and walk out like zombies.
Does anyone else find this behavior strange?
I’m not saying we should fake happiness. Pretending is lame. You will have bad days. We all do. And when life goes wrong, we’re allowed to mourn. But if your life is one nonstop wake, well, good luck with that. I prefer to party. I prefer to celebrate my freedom. And I want a church that knows how to have a good time. A church that knows how to laugh.
The baptisms at Vineyard Westside were simply amazing. Over forty people shared their stories and got dunked. And man, there were some unbelievable stories. It was a good reminder that God is in the business of redemption. No matter how messed up you are, no matter how many times you have screwed up, no matter how ugly your story is, God is ready to step in and restore you.
And he’s definitely ready to par-tay with you. Anyone who tells you otherwise is trapped in religion. But Jesus didn’t come to bring religion; he came to bring life.
The serious business of loving Jesus should be a helluva good time.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
