The postmodern church is a term I’ve heard bandied about for a while now but like the idea of postmodernism itself, it’s hard to lock down a definition. A Linux software engineer once explained to me that his chosen operating system was the product of a bustling Bizarre transfigured with Microsoft’s colossal and internally consistent Cathedral. By Bizarre he was referring to the sprawling market of programmers whose individual contributions by natural selection have produced a functioning non-propriety operating system now used all over the world. Microsoft on the other hand by centralised control applied copyright and used the royalties to support its multitudes in what became a tightly defined and structured software juggernaut. The organisational models of Cathedral and Bizarre can also be seen in the Christian church. The models distinguish between the traditional social institution we’re all familiar with and the explosive and unaccountable mess of house churches, mission organisations and social networks of the faithful which like a Bizarre fill the car parking lots of empty Cathedrals.
I suspect that I am in fact a member of the postmodern church but it’s hard to say for sure as I don’t precisely know what this means. Of course, us postmodern types don’t like tags and definitions anyway so the “undefinition” doesn’t bother me greatly. Postmodernism aside, today’s church in the broadest sense of the word is worth thinking about because its mission and function is just as palpably vital as always. The church is still God’s chosen instrument in this world to the extent the Jesus called it his bride. And let’s face it, that recognisable part of Christianity having congealed into formal social institutions of various names is under significant pressure - numbers in the West have been in decline for decades. In the great tidal cycle of revival, institutional Christianity is currently on the ebb.
Christian institutions have always been slow to adapt which is a both a strength and a weakness. They have with all their intrinsic inertia communicated the essence of Jesus’ message for two thousand years. However at times the spirit of conviction has been subjugated to the force of tradition and love has given way to religion. What once reflected Jesus’ dynamic and relational vision has through history often degraded into unyielding and pretentious structures like those Jesus condemned while he walked the earth. These alienate the seeker and the sort rather joining with them in the great journey faith we share. Jesus didn’t found a religion he provided a way to be reconciled with God and one another in true unblemished community. Our well-intentioned efforts to manage and propagate Jesus’ message of reconciliation and community by institutionalising it have sterilised it instead.
The world and her communities are once again undergoing a massive social transformation to the extent unseen since the industrial revolution in late 18th century. Transportation, communication and information technologies have effectively contracted the world blending civilisations and cultures like never before. We have not only amassed knowledge but have the means to rapidly and conveniently access it. Where once knowledge was controlled and disseminated by social institutions like universities, governments and the church it is now and will exist universally in the public domain accessible by browser. The role of these institutions is changing and we the church would do well to recognise the implications. There was a time when an ordained minister was the chief custodian of God’s word and work in his parish. With the wisdom endowed by his relatively superior education and connections he was a natural authority dispensing uncontested truths from an elevated platform on Sunday mornings. We now have a greatly reduced number of congregations who are highly literate, well read and in many cases much better educated than those tasked to instruct them. We have seekers who can find what they need much more easily with the click of a mouse than by sifting through the generalised and often dumbed-down Sunday morning sermon. In a world rich in visual and interactive content delivery we continue to rely for the main part with an oral monologue to get across our message. We persist in clinging tightly to a model of communication and community expression which has failed to achieve for some time now that which it once achieved – the enrichment of communities and the salvation of souls.
If you’re like me you long for true community. This is a longing for identity and belonging and purpose and it is entirely natural and good. We live in the great mishmash of decentralised communities less bounded by geographical considerations than ever before. We relate to one another through facebook and email and by phone and we never walk anywhere - we drive vast distances to be together. We have little community loyalty changing churches on whim (I don’t like the music) and moving between jobs frequently. Within one city there are many cultural groups living side by side with competing values, restaurants and religions. It should then not surprise us that static institutions have waned in popularity, the church included. We could try to keep up through a concerted effort of reform and modernisation but I doubt we could move fast enough. I suggest something entirely new is needed, something that you might call postmodern but which I prefer call deconstructed church.
My family and I go to a conventional Baptist church near our home. It’s conventional in its form of service, organisational structure and mission. But unconventional taken as a church building and the extent to which the church wants to contribute and connect to the surrounding community. When a new larger building was required, the church built two indoor sports stadiums one of which is used for services on Sunday. So we meet in a vaulted void and the building serves the community throughout the week for sports related activities. The idea takes the concept that the “people are the church” to the absolute limit. There is nothing to mark the building as a church apart from signage prominently displayed over its commercially styled entrance. There’s a café, offices and other multi-purpose rooms and the whole lot’s ringed by car parks and bushland. Ironically, it was the out-of-the-box building concept that contributed to my initial decision to get involved. My family and I have now been actively involved for many years in a number of the church’s ministries serving in leadership roles but to be honest, it’s a tough slog. Why, you ask?
I’ve thought a lot through the years about why I don’t feel at home in my chosen church or for that matter, any conventional church I’ve attended. I don’t think it’s because my standards are too high. I am graceful and generous and flexible and accommodating most days. It’s the concept embodied by the local church as a one-stop-shop and neatly constrained geographic community that doesn’t quite gel for me. I don’t feel the loyalty you might expect from a regular and involved member and could stop attending quite easily. This is no indictment on the church and I hold no poor opinion of the church I attend, its leadership or its members. It’s just that the church I belong seems so much bigger and more diverse – in fact it includes anyone who has put their faith in Jesus and is actively and genuinely seeking God’s will for their life. The church I belong to doesn’t have any practical geographical reference point it’s more of a social network.
The local church I see as a resource to facilitate personal works of faith and a context for making friends with people of like mind and heart. This is all part of a much bigger idea which I call “deconstructed church”. It may in fact form part of your experience of church even if you’re not aware of it yet. If you’ve stopped looking exclusively to your local church to facilitate your spiritual growth and instead, taking the matter into your own hands, sort out other inputs then you’ve begun to deconstruct church. Recognising that at this point in the great journey, you have many needs that a mass-market approach isn’t going to meet you hungrily look elsewhere. Perhaps like me you are involved in para church organisations or informal fellowships which stretch you and provide a strong sense of community. Or maybe you read Christian literature seeking deeper wisdom and understanding. Home groups and house churches are springing up all over the place many of which are not connected to any institutional church. It is a mistake to think that geography or religious denomination are universal descriptors for legitimate church expression. Accepting the legitimacy of a deconstructed church model may well liberate your thinking. Participating may be more beneficial and entirely less disappointing than expecting more than the local church can in practice deliver. It has its role to plan but there is much more to be had.
So is this postmodern or not? I really don’t care one way or the other. I am fully engaged and entirely satisfied with my deconstructed church experience where my attitude is to give where I can, release and utilise what resources I can for the sake of the kingdom and seek after God with all my heart. I have no particularly high expectations of my local church and I find across my network of friends and organisations all I need to spiritually grow. I spend most of time in the Bizarre but regularly visit the Cathedral. Of course, it’s not perfect but then neither am I.
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