The Curse of Christendom

The modern American Church owes much to a Roman emperor. Much of it ain't so good.

We have a name for the Church's interface with its world since Constantine declared Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire. The word is Christendom. It refers to a modern (Western) world that has had the influence of Christian values in the center of its consciousness.

That seems like a good thing to most Christians. In fact, for many, it seems like that is the goal of the Church. At this point in US history, it appears that we are slipping away from the pinnacle of our achievement in capturing a culture. A quick look at the legacy of Christendom, however, reveals that many of the assumptions under which most American church leaders and members operate deviates from the first two centuries of the Church, and the results are far different.

From Pentecost until the Edict of Milan in 313, Christianity flourished on the edge of society. Persecuted and pressured, the ranks of believers in Jesus grew exponentially. Those who decided to follow Jesus did it knowing the risks. The power of God was evident in their ranks and the Church became a counter-culture force across the world.

Constantine's edict gave the Church social status. It did not give the Church momentum. Rather, it tamed the Church as it found its place at the social table. The problem here is a change of diet. The Church on the edge of society has nothing to eat but what God offers. The food at the social table suddenly adds the fattening fillers of civil religion. Soon after tasting these new treats the Church found itself defined by politics, priests and property.

At this point many readers would agree, but quickly add that the Reformation led by Luther and Wesley in the 16th century changed all that. Let's skip ahead to today's Church in America and see.

Politics
The American Church operates with many assumptions derived not from the Bible but from centuries of familiar treatment by host governments. The Christendom Church expects to be in the center of the culture; its influence then is expected to radiate from the center out to the edges. No one can deny that the post WWII Church in America has made an impact. What is in question is what kind of impact we have generated and how we quantify "success."

So many Church-related public voices rally local members to vote for political candidates who embrace certain "accepted" positions. For millions of evangelicals, to be Christian is to be Republican. We also declare our outrage when stone tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments are removed from public buildings. We continue to expect preferential treatment, in spite of the Bible's warnings about the impossibility of any and all secular governments truly following the King of kings. We demand tax-free status, and many church professionals expect "clergy discounts" where they shop and play golf.

The Church of the first two centuries, and the Church of a new Reformation committed to a missional/incarnational DNA, see many dangers in alignment with any political system. The Church was always supposed to speak from the edges inward; when the Church expects and receives preferential treatment from its host government, it comes with a cost. The Christendom Church loses its prophetic voice because it is on the inside and is now, therefore, part of the problem.

This perspective also changes our orientation toward our host culture. Instead of seeing my circle of influence as a mission field, the Christendom worldview by necessity has to assume that the host culture is basically a good culture (since the Church is at the center!) simply in need of repair; the people surrounding us are basically good people who know the truth but need to be guided back to the right path.

Priests
Evangelicals feel pretty smug about this one: we don't have an irrelevant Pope. But looking at the dynamics of church life, we have to admit that we have a clearly-defined priesthood nonetheless.

The Christendom Church has a social order that was not present in the early Church. There were leaders, of course. But the implications of our present system are staggering.

How many churches in the Western world actually operate in a biblical mode in terms of form and function? How is the interdependence of 1 Corinthians 12 or Ephesians 4 experienced? In contrast, how many churches operate in a Christendom mode where paid professionals "do the ministry?" How many church members refer to their pastor as "the minister?"

Most evangelical churches can't find enough people to staff the nursery.

That's because the average church member "goes to church" on Sundays with an expectation that he or she will be "ministered to" by the preacher and the worship team, while those members sit and soak and give little in return. They can't, because the average member in the average Christendom-ideology-dominated fellowship is not part of the accepted priesthood. He or she is not a "Reverend."

How the modern priesthood actually sabotages the fulfillment of the Great Commission is an idea worthy of an upcoming blog of its own.

Property
One of the greatest blows Christendom landed on Christianity is in reorienting church from a verb--what happens when God's people act in His name--to a noun: the place I go on Sundays. How many people talk of "going to church" rather than "doing" or "being" church?

The goal of building-focused ministry is to attract the largest number of people we possibly can on Sunday mornings. People will sense their need, we believe, and come visit us if we are attractive enough. In fact, our subtle goal is to be more attractive than the church down the block. We wind up in competition with other churches.

The New Testament church and the missional/incarnational church of a new Reformation refuse to engage in a "come and see" mentality that places all the pressure on the unsaved. Jesus teaches us to "go and tell;" to take on the mantle of a follower of His and wear it well.

What percentage of the Church's resources is tied up in maintaining property and supporting professional clergy? If it is true that God counts true spirituality in terms of taking care of those who can't take care of themselves (James 1:27) and actually judges our lives in relation to how we work on behalf of the oppressed (read Jeremiah 22:15-16 and Isaiah 58 very carefully), then how accountable are we for the tithes and offerings that never make it out the door of the church?

Some might suggest that we need buildings to offer seminars on financial management or to host recovery groups--things that can have a major long-term impact in people's lives. Who says that we need a building dedicated to religious purposes for those things? What might our impact be if instead of inviting strangers from the community to such events, we would offer our services to individuals and groups already within our speres of influence--people with whom we have already been intentionally investing our lives?

Whatever happened to a mobile Church going to where the need is? Why do we insist that needy people come find us? Isn't that exactly the opposite of how God treated us?

You can't invest in a needy person's life outside the church building if you spend all your free time inside it. In this case perhaps smaller is bigger. Smaller crowds means personal ministry to the people with whom we are intentionally establishing relationships. Smaller buildings means using homes that foster intimacy and ongoing relationships.

If permeation of the culture with the values of the Kingdom is truly what we want, then it is time we got back out there. We must do it as individuals and groups demonstrating a passionate love for others while we represent the King who did that for us. It will never happen if we represent a political or social philosophy as a voting block.

What would happen if followers of Jesus began viewing their surrounding culture as a hostile environment needing a demonstration of the radical love of God? What if those who have really counted the cost would band together and develop intentional relationships in their spheres of influence? What would happen if church people would stop wringing their hands over waning political influence, stop identifying themselves by what they oppose, and start loving people into the Kingdom? What would happen if we could expose the curse of Christendom and set people free to be salt and light?

It's edgy. Scary. Downright dangerous.

Just what the Church is supposed to be. Exactly where the Church is supposed to be.