Post-Church?

"Christian is a wonderful noun, but a terrible adjective." -- Rob Bell, Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith

Some books are timeless. Masterpieces by Tolstoy. Twain. C.S. Lewis. I could go on and on.

And then there are books like Mark Joseph's Faith, God, and Rock & Roll.


Having just tackled The Hidden Wound, a particularly weighty work by Wendell Berry, I was ready for some lighter reading. I rescued this paperback from the clearance shelves at Half-Price Books sometime last year for the whopping price of $1. Written in 2003, the book offers profiles of artists who carried their Christian faith into the world of "secular" music, or who found faith after beginning their careers -- artists like Sixpence None the Richer, Creed, Alice Cooper, and Lauryn Hill.

There are a few positives about the book. For one, Joseph refrains from passing judgment, even as he points out the criticisms leveled at some of the artists by other Christians for perceived moral discrepancies. It also highlighted some folks I didn't even realize professed faith (who knew Carson Daly had planned to enter seminary before getting involved in radio?). And the later chapters, the ones in which Joseph does more than simply rehash portions of artist interviews, are intriguing (I especially enjoyed Joseph's somewhat strong indictment of the commercial explosion of "praise and worship" music in the early 2000s).

Still, suffice it to say, this book does not stand the test of time.

There are probably a few reasons for that. One is that virtually none of the profiled artists are still on music's A-list (U2 being the most notable exception); most of them, while not exactly one-hit wonders, were flashes in the pan who faded into near-oblivion shortly after the book was published.

I think the reason the book falls flat in 2012, however, is deeper than that.

It often seems that, when I start pondering a possible blog topic, I happen across something else that further convinces me it's time to write. This was no exception: Last week, I listened to Tom Ashbrook's interview with church historian and writer Diana Butler Bass on NPR's "On Point." Bass was invited on to discuss her new book, Christianity After Religion: The End of Church and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening.


Bass pointed to a number of statistics that show the American church is in decline, particularly among young adults, who are leaving in droves. At the same time, those young adults are fueling an explosion of service and advocacy, and, while some are hostile to faith for various reasons, many consider themselves in that category that makes church leaders cringe: "spiritual but not religious."

Another writer, Phyllis Tickle, released a book in 2008 entitled The Great Emergence. The premise was simple: Every 500 years or so, the Church (with a capital C) undergoes a significant transformation -- from the institution of monasteries and convents in the sixth century to the Great Schism in the early 1000s to the Reformation in the 1500s to ... well, to what's going on now.

Tickle wrote:

"Thus, when pinned down and forced to answer the question, 'What is Emergent or Emerging Church?' most who are part of it will answer, 'A conversation,' which is not only true but which will always be true. The Great Emergence could not be otherwise."

Now, many Christ-followers will find Bass's proposal unsettling, or even downright scary -- a Christianity that doesn't involve church as we've always known it? And certainly it would be premature to assume that churches will go the way of the buffalo anytime soon. But there is no denying that Christianity will look different in the future than it looks right now, just as it looks different now than it did in the past. This is neither good nor bad; it just is.

A major upside of this change is a faith that is less cloistered. No longer is Christianity about hiding away in "Fort God" and only engaging the outside world in a hostile manner -- of course, the true way of Christ was never about this to begin with. Christ-followers are learning to coexist with those whose beliefs differ from their own.

One of the most inspiring news stories I have ever read can be found here. If you don't feel like reading the entire story, here's a synopsis: A Muslim community was building a cultural center in Cordova, Tenn., near Heartsong Church. While the center was under construction, the church welcomed its new neighbors with open arms and even let the community hold its Ramadan observances in the church's main worship space.

The NPR story concludes:

Although the Memphis Islamic Center is now complete, the Muslim community keeps a strong relationship with [pastor Steve] Stone and Heartsong's members. Once a month, they get together to help the homeless in their neighborhood, and there are also plans to build a new park that would sit on both congregations' property.

This is simply, stunningly beautiful. While few churches (as we currently know them) will be willing to take this kind of action, I believe it will become more and more common as Christ-followers continue to move into the new era Bass predicts.

Based on some of the phone calls Bass fielded during the interview and some of the comments on the Web version, one of the major concerns Christians have with the writer's proposal is that Christ-followers will find themselves "going it alone" rather than enjoying fellowship with other Christ-followers. I believe this fear is unfounded, for a couple of reasons:

First, many -- I would venture to say most -- churches offer very little in the way of true community. "Fellowship" is relegated to the occasional potluck dinner or church picnic, while the important stuff is what happens in the pews and on the stage every Sunday morning. Even in the current church paradigm, community is more fully experienced in organic settings that are neither church-organized nor even necessarily church-sanctioned.

Besides, even if Bass's prediction fully comes to pass, I believe that Christ-followers will continue to get together in some fashion. Perhaps it won't involve getting all cleaned up and driving to a big building on Sunday morning; maybe it'll involve a Saturday walk to the coffee shop, or a backyard barbecue, or a game night, or a bike ride, or ... the possibilities are truly infinite.

Reflections on the lectionary readings in the March issue of Sojourners magazine were written by Martin Smith, an Episcopal priest in Washington, D.C. In one of the reflections, Smith wrote that scripture "can give us the courage to see God at work in the historical forces that are dismantling so many elements of traditional Christianity in our own time." This is a refreshing viewpoint: just as we can see the hand of God in the Church's previous evolutions, so we can see it at work in what's happening now, and what's to come. Let us take comfort in this thought.

So, what does any of this have to do with Faith, God, and Rock & Roll?

In short, I believe that what a whole generation has known as the "Christian music" industry is experiencing, in microcosmic form, what Bass predicts for the church.

The industry is in decline; it has been for some time. (Joseph points out in his book that the industry propped itself up on inflated numbers for years by claiming sales figures for albums that were only Christian music in the loosest sense.) This decline is the result of many factors, not the least of which is that the vast majority of Christian music is ... well ... mediocre. (I'm being gracious.)

So, what will the post-Christian music era look like? I don't think we need too much imagination to envision it; it's basically begun. Artists are creating good, intelligent art without worrying about how it's labeled. The litmus test isn't how many times a song mentions God or Jesus; it's whether the song resonates with listeners as true.

This is why I think Joseph's book falls flat: It addresses a trend that is already obsolete. Artists taking their faith into the "mainstream" arena is not a fad or a trend anymore; it's commonplace. It's so commonplace, in fact, that the Christian music industry cannot survive for long.

We can complain about this, or we can embrace it and be part of what happens next. I know which one I will choose.