I’ve enjoyed a book by Dale Rosenberger, Who Are You to Say? Establishing Pastoral Authority in Matters of Faith, (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Brazos Press, 2005). Rosenberger calls us to a critical theological assessment of our churches. In this excerpt, he compares art museums to churches and gleans some interesting thoughts on evangelism and church growth (from pp. 116-117 of his book).

“What do art museums want?” began a New York Times article by Roberta Smith a few years ago. “(They are) driven by the desire to be financially successful, wildly popular or socially relevant … (They are)

mounting exhibitions that are terminally afflicted by what looks a certifiable fear of art … They often behave less and less like museums – that is, places where the goal is the … experience of art objects … They represent the failure, for one reason or another, simply to let art be art, to honor its specialness and mysteries, and allow it to work its effect. One gets the feeling that for many people in charge of museums and exhibitions these days, art is not enough … In general, questions of cultural or historic relevance [take] precedence over issues of aesthetic[s].” Smith answers her own question: “They want to be anything but art museums.” 1

The affluent Western church might listen closely to this soul-searching self-examination of a venerable institution whose identity is at stake and whose future is at risk amid the consumerist acids of contemporary culture. What do churches want? What does God want for the church? These questions precisely are our questions. In the course of our lifetime, it has become unclear what churches want and who the church is. Indeed it seems that in too many cases we want to be anything and everything but the church. Much of what we do evinces a certifiable fear of Jesus, crucified and resurrected. This is remarkable in that this is something the church had not been unclear about for many centuries.

Eager to impress the world rather than fulfill our mission before God, wistfully longing for megachurches or ahead-of-the-curve social agencies, external measures such as swollen budgets or the trend-stampeding of the masses or social cachet increasingly drive the church. In a celebrity-mad culture, it as though many local parishes themselves long to become celebrity churches. And our day care, youth programs, and adult classes, to cite the most visible examples, testify to a certifiable reluctance about God. We read the Bible as though it is supposed to be more about us than about God. We call ourselves “spiritual” because we liked the DaVinci Code and have discussion groups about it.

But like middle-schoolers shrinking from the dance floor, we are too embarrassed to proclaim Christ’s reign and too awkward to unabashedly glorify God. For neither of those acts would answer the question that more impresses and obsesses us: what is in it for me? Somehow it is no longer enough to allow the sacred gospel mysteries entrusted us to do their work through the witness of our word and deed. We are talking about a deep identity crisis here.

One gets the feeling that for many involved that the God of the cross is not enough. Questions of immediate relevance take precedence over the longer view of enacting the reign of God, actually living as though God’s promises in Jesus are more real than the world’s promises, and letting the power of the Holy Spirit ineluctably unfold by what results. Too often we want to be anything but the church of Jesus Christ.

1 Roberta Smith, “Memo to the Art Museums: Don’t Give Up on Art,” New York Times, December 3, 2000, sec. 2.

William H. Willimon