Most Sunday's I find myself drawn to the beautiful sanctuary of one of Dallas' wealthiest PCA churches. We (PCPC and I) have a love/hate relationship. I attend, and am only that - an attender. I am somewhat ashamed, but not really. I assuage that guilt by teaching a bible study for 9th graders at one of Dallas' wealthiest PCUSA churches. I guess I love rich people. 
The worship at PCPC is formal, yet lacking hollow formalism. The music is passionate, yet lacking the shallow insincere sentimentality of impersonal mega-churches. The teaching is thoughtful, yet heart-driven because of the gospel. The church follows an order of service like most liturgically-minded denominations, yet she is not subject to rigidness's rigidity for the sake of order. For these I love her.
Yet, the congregation, when gathered together, might possibly be mistaken for giant designer clothing fashion show; the parked cars would cause a frugal man to pause and simply consider the insurance premiums; the annual budget would likely provide funding for a struggling, but developing country; the consistent whiteness of the faces, the somewhat stuffy nature of a feel of wealth, the sometimes half-sincere calls to Christian discipleship so as not to offend the hand that feeds, etc., for these I hate her.
Today was particularly telling of the mind of one of the weekly participants. A family - a gentleman, his wife, and their three daughters spoke briefly on the blessing of serving the poor down at a local gospel homeless mission over in West Dallas. It should be understood that the church goes through great lengths to censor what is spoken from the pulpit. Prayers are read having been previously thought out, laity speak with manuscript in hand, and elders speak with polished well spoken business English. But, of course, it is impossible to censor everything heard from the hidden speakers. I assume they are hidden so as to not divert attention from the multimillion dollar organ.
The father spoke first, followed by the three young daughters, and finally his wife closed. I am going to criticize/reflect on the wife's testimony; not because I wish simply to criticize, but because what she said was so telling of our consumerist, materialistic, skin-deep society and churches. I will also preface the reflection with this: she is involved in building the kingdom of God through service to the poor, whereas I am not.
Reflection: In praising the success of the ministry's efforts over the years, she said something to this effect, "You should see West Dallas, it's different now, its gorgeous... it's so beautiful."
For clarity's sake I failed to understand if she was referring to the West Dallas Community School (a private school for the underprivileged funded by PCPC) or the community of West Dallas or if she was referring to the homeless shelter. That part was unclear. But what may have been intended did not surface, rather the manner in which she spoke and the language which she employed seemed to imply that the ministry was a blessing and success because it was turning those people into people like her: Beautiful people, and beautiful communities. I was saddened at what she implied. She moved to talk of the homeless's "sins" of hunger and dishevelment and despair. I couldn't figure out what she meant by that, but what she implied again, was that their state of appearance was the consequence sin.
How have we come so far as to assume that when a group starts to look like you, they are living in the midst of righteousness and blessing. Ian, my church attendance partner, turned to me during her talk and simply stated in an inquisitive tone, "Beauty equals righteousness." He did not mean that righteousness is beautiful; certainly righteousness is beautiful in an abstract sense, but what Ian meant was to sum up the things heard - that if you are a righteous person you will be beautiful in appearance. We both looked at each other and shrugged because of the oddity of what we interpreted.
Judgment calls me to be slow to fault her words, because I know the pressure of public speaking often leads to us saying things we didn't intend or mean, because she is only thinking through the lenses of her social conditioning and experience, etc. I am guilty of the same thing. I suppose if she were to read this post she would likely respond that this is not what she meant at all. It may very well be that I have read into what she was saying far more than she intended, but the fact that both Ian and myself interpreted her in a similar way seems to legitimize my criticism.
Christ's kingdom does not call us to beautify appearance through conformity, but rather to work to turn what is ugly in evil's oppression into what is beautiful in goodness's recreation. By turning what is hungry into what is fed, by turning what is hurting into what is healed, by turning what is lost into what is found, by turning what is broken into what is whole, by turning what is oppressed into what is freed we reflect Christ's glory, and then all things are truly beautiful.
The worship at PCPC is formal, yet lacking hollow formalism. The music is passionate, yet lacking the shallow insincere sentimentality of impersonal mega-churches. The teaching is thoughtful, yet heart-driven because of the gospel. The church follows an order of service like most liturgically-minded denominations, yet she is not subject to rigidness's rigidity for the sake of order. For these I love her.
Yet, the congregation, when gathered together, might possibly be mistaken for giant designer clothing fashion show; the parked cars would cause a frugal man to pause and simply consider the insurance premiums; the annual budget would likely provide funding for a struggling, but developing country; the consistent whiteness of the faces, the somewhat stuffy nature of a feel of wealth, the sometimes half-sincere calls to Christian discipleship so as not to offend the hand that feeds, etc., for these I hate her.
Today was particularly telling of the mind of one of the weekly participants. A family - a gentleman, his wife, and their three daughters spoke briefly on the blessing of serving the poor down at a local gospel homeless mission over in West Dallas. It should be understood that the church goes through great lengths to censor what is spoken from the pulpit. Prayers are read having been previously thought out, laity speak with manuscript in hand, and elders speak with polished well spoken business English. But, of course, it is impossible to censor everything heard from the hidden speakers. I assume they are hidden so as to not divert attention from the multimillion dollar organ.
The father spoke first, followed by the three young daughters, and finally his wife closed. I am going to criticize/reflect on the wife's testimony; not because I wish simply to criticize, but because what she said was so telling of our consumerist, materialistic, skin-deep society and churches. I will also preface the reflection with this: she is involved in building the kingdom of God through service to the poor, whereas I am not.
Reflection: In praising the success of the ministry's efforts over the years, she said something to this effect, "You should see West Dallas, it's different now, its gorgeous... it's so beautiful."
For clarity's sake I failed to understand if she was referring to the West Dallas Community School (a private school for the underprivileged funded by PCPC) or the community of West Dallas or if she was referring to the homeless shelter. That part was unclear. But what may have been intended did not surface, rather the manner in which she spoke and the language which she employed seemed to imply that the ministry was a blessing and success because it was turning those people into people like her: Beautiful people, and beautiful communities. I was saddened at what she implied. She moved to talk of the homeless's "sins" of hunger and dishevelment and despair. I couldn't figure out what she meant by that, but what she implied again, was that their state of appearance was the consequence sin.
How have we come so far as to assume that when a group starts to look like you, they are living in the midst of righteousness and blessing. Ian, my church attendance partner, turned to me during her talk and simply stated in an inquisitive tone, "Beauty equals righteousness." He did not mean that righteousness is beautiful; certainly righteousness is beautiful in an abstract sense, but what Ian meant was to sum up the things heard - that if you are a righteous person you will be beautiful in appearance. We both looked at each other and shrugged because of the oddity of what we interpreted.
Judgment calls me to be slow to fault her words, because I know the pressure of public speaking often leads to us saying things we didn't intend or mean, because she is only thinking through the lenses of her social conditioning and experience, etc. I am guilty of the same thing. I suppose if she were to read this post she would likely respond that this is not what she meant at all. It may very well be that I have read into what she was saying far more than she intended, but the fact that both Ian and myself interpreted her in a similar way seems to legitimize my criticism.
Christ's kingdom does not call us to beautify appearance through conformity, but rather to work to turn what is ugly in evil's oppression into what is beautiful in goodness's recreation. By turning what is hungry into what is fed, by turning what is hurting into what is healed, by turning what is lost into what is found, by turning what is broken into what is whole, by turning what is oppressed into what is freed we reflect Christ's glory, and then all things are truly beautiful.