Emerged.
By Greg Gilbert March 2, 2006
So I’m back from a week-long trip to California, and very glad about that. Being back, that is. It was a good time–I got to see Air Force One at the Reagan Library, which was the very plane that every president from 1961-1991(?) used, before they got the newer, bigger model during Bush I’s presidency. Also ate lunch at Malibu, etc. etc. California etc.
On Sunday, I got to attend one of the biggest emerging churches in the country, Mosaic, pastored by Erwin McManus. It was an eye-opening experience, really, but not in the way you might expect. The service was held in an auditorium in Beverly Hills High School, which honestly didn’t look any nicer than my high school in East Texas. But that’s another story. I won’t tell you everything I thought about Mosaic, just for time’s sake, but I did think you might enjoy hearing a little about it.
The bottom line is that this emerging church didn’t feel nearly as new and exciting and “emerging” as I had hoped. The music was fairly run-of-the-mill: fast, driving, pretty good lyrics, familiar songs most of them, a guy in a sweatshirt jumping around on the stage like a mid-90s rock star. It was fine, and honestly, the song lyrics had alot of gospel in them, which I found reassuring.
The closest thing to an “emerging” element was the emphasis they placed on the fine arts, but even that was subdued compared to what I have been led to believe from reading emergent books. During the sermon, a woman painted on a blank canvasse her interpretation, I suppose, of what was being said. So by the end of the service, there was this nice picture of two people–I couldn’t tell exactly what they were doing–at the back-center of the stage. I’m not an artist, and the times when I have been moved by art have been exceedingly few and far between, but honestly, I didn’t think there was anything particularly profound in having her paint during the sermon.
On that point, I also wonder why the church is privileging talent in the fine arts. God has given us all many talents. Why should they privilege someone who can paint over someone who can bench press 400 pounds? Or throw a football? If the church serious about letting people showcase their God-given talents, then I say let someone do push-ups behind the preacher next week. But they won’t, because they recognize just like we do that not every talent is meant to be showcased in the public worship of God. The only question is how you decide what belongs there and what doesn’t. What’s the authority in that case? The pastor’s desires? The church’s composition? Reason? Scripture?
Speaking of Scripture, there was very little of it. Erwin McManus preached a very engaging sermon on the beauty of complexity in the Christian life, but he did it with really very little Scripture. I think the explanation is that this emerging church, at least, has decided to define preaching differently than it has historically been defined. They’re thinking of it as the broad end of a funnel–the point at which people are invited into the very first stages of thinking about God and spirituality. But it doesn’t go much further than that. There was no mention of atonement or the cross, though he did talk about following Jesus quite a bit. The idea, I gather, is that you’re supposed to get the gospel later, in a small group or at the “ten minute party” after the service. But the service, and the preaching, is more just the front door.
As I read the New Testament, I don’t think that’s what preaching is for. Preaching, the very word, means “proclamation.” Preaching is not just a front door, the big end of a funnel. Preaching is the proclamation of the gospel, of the Word of God.
My feeling, honestly, as I left that morning, was that the “funnel sermon” was okay, one time. I’ve actually heard many sermons of the same level and calibre in traditional Baptist churches. But if I had to feed on that kind of entry-level stuff for six months, or a year, I think I’d starve. Now, maybe mature Christians get their food elsewhere in Mosaic (small groups, for example), but then we’re back to the question of how the New Testament intended us to preach in the first place. Is preaching just a meditation on paradox and complexity to make Christians seem like a likeable group? Or is it really a proclamation that requires you to talk about atonement, faith, and repentance?
I suppose my first impression of the place was a bit underwhelming. I’m glad to see all those young people there (200, maybe, no one that I could see over about 35), but I wonder—Could you reach those same people with a robust, expositional preaching ministry? My guess, my conviction, is that you could.