Outer Rim Territories

Do I Have a Witness? | Christianity Today

Do I Have a Witness? | Christianity Today | A Magazine of Evangelical Conviction: When the church starts marketing itself or the gospel, something odd is taking place. It conjures up the idea that the church is offering them some benefit—all well and good. But it also implicitly suggests that when they "buy" or consume that good, the church somehow receives some benefit. That's the assumption of the marketplace: it's an exchange of value for goods and services. Should it surprise us, then, that in the same era the church has marketed itself more and more, neighborhoods and cities are increasingly resentful of the presence of the church in their communities? Churches today have a heck of a time trying to get permits for expanding or building because communities think they're a nuisance. The church has become just another business exchanging goods and services, albeit spiritual goods and services. The perception is that as the church markets itself, more benefits will accrue to the church—more people, more programs, more money, more buildings, more success. When a neighborhood thinks of the church as little more than an ever-expanding spiritual business, it is naturally resentful when this business disrupts the life of the community with parking, traffic, and late-night meetings. Should it surprise us that in this church-marketing era, members demand more and more from their churches, and if churches don't deliver, they take their spiritual business elsewhere? Have we ever seen an age in which church transience was such an epidemic? Should it surprise us that in this era, pastors increasingly think of themselves as "managers," "leaders," and "CEOs" of "dynamic and growing congregations," rather than as shepherds, teachers, and servants of people who need to know God? And that preaching has become less an exposition of the gospel of Jesus' death and resurrection and more often practical lessons that offer a lot of "take-away value," presented in an efficient, friendly manner, as if we were selling cheeseburgers, fries, and a shake? And on it goes. Let me be clear. There is nothing inherently wrong with large churches. Medieval Europe was full of them, and I long for the day when those cathedrals will be full of the worshiping faithful again. I have been blessed time and again by the ministry of megachurches. Today churches large and small (the small imitating the large) have unthinkingly adopted a marketing mentality that, it turns out, subverts rather than promotes the gospel. We inadvertently imply that the church benefits as much from the spiritual transaction as does the recipient. Marketing, by its very nature, contradicts the essence of the gospel lifestyle of Jesus, who came not to be served, but to expend his life for others—no exchange implied or expected.