Preacher-centrism

We used to say “preacheritis,” but I don’t think that was quite right, grammatically speaking. The preacher might well have been inflamed, but that wasn’t what we were talking about.

The subject was, and is, centering on a human. (The phrase “centering around” is redundant, I might point out.) (And so I did point it out!)

Karly had to head in one direction to pick up her grandmother this fine Lord’s Day, so I headed in another. Only having two wheels (the motorized kind) available, I went about 25 miles north to the meeting of a church in Perry, NY. We’ve driven by this place numerous times, and I thought it was about time I visited. After all, when a church is called “New Testament Church,” I’m intrigued.

Must tell you I’ve visited scores more churches that bore more resemblance to the ideal I see described in the NT writings. This one, like so many, was centered on its preacher. (I’ve opted for the word “preacher” because it seems more a functional umbrella than “pastor.” All of them preach, for better or worse, but not all of them past.)

As soon as I walked in the door, I could tell that the 2nd handshake met a preacher’s hand. There’s a certain centering that occurs in a church lobby when the preacher is there, you know. Everything revolves around him, and all the body language and verbosity manifests his centrality. My suspicions were born out when he walked over, used-car-salesman-like, 30 seconds later and introduced himself as “Gene–I’m the pastor here.”

The preacher’s wife, as in so many churches, was the “worship leader.” Not that she led me, really, but she did play the keys and made the decisions as to how many repeats on the choruses.

His daughter ran the overhead projector.

He made the announcements.

He plugged the upcoming event.

Asserting his centrality, he interjected (mostly unnecessary, unhelpful) comments between songs.

And as if this weren’t enough, he did what every other preacher does, 99.4% of the time. He preached for too long. It took, in this case, approximately 2/3 of the assembly time. Often, it’s 1/2 the time, but this was even more disproportionate.

Who put the pope and all other religious centeroids high atop Clydesdales?  Not one of us is infallible, and no single human should be talking that long. Jesus or the apostles, yes, but not a 21C preacher.  There’s more collective wisdom than is accessed in most churches; congregational worship and edification have many forms that can and should be exploited; and, hey, what ever happened to letting God speak through oral readings of the scriptures?

Believe it or not, this wasn’t the most distasteful thing at this church. It had to do with three colors–flying colors, that is–and it turned my stomach. But that’s a topic for another time.