So this alien walks into a church. (When you read the title, what’d you think was going to happen?) He’s like a Men in Black (oh! my references are so current) alien, so no one can tell he’s an alien. He and his team have been sent to earth and charged with finding its supreme being. On their planet, it has long been rumored that earth has a being who created everything, sacrificed itself for everyone, and then continued to be immortal.

A being of that caliber would probably be revered by many, the aliens had reasoned together with their mind-melding powers, so they first checked the place where people most congregated on a regular basis: Disneyland. This search proved fruitful, as they discovered a being who looked different from all the rest, had an abnormally large head which they reasoned was due to brain size, had likenesses of itself branded on buildings, windows, what they thought to be food but turned out to be a very tasteful form of plastic, the clothing and even sometimes the skin of the humans, and appeared on an island every night to slay a large fire-breathing lifeform who was apparently threatening the lives of the humans. (They also had a lovely time riding something called Space Mountain.) However, upon investigating further, they discovered that the action of each heroic battle never seemed to change, and that perhaps the supreme being was not really using his imagination to conquer the fire-breathing lifeform, as the wonderfully catchy music would have the humans believe. So after stowing away on the island and finding that the supreme being could take off his head and was really just one of the still-developing humans who routinely served them pepperoni pizza when they had clearly asked for cheese only, they decided to move on.

They next tried sporting stadiums, as the humans tended to congregate in those on a very regular basis, wear the stadium branding, indoctrinate their children in the way of the branding, and sometimes even kill each other depending on what the humans on the field wearing the stripes said. However, as they soon discovered that everyone on the grass stage was being ruled by an inanimate object that they all seemed to want to possess but then acted surprised and angry when they threw it away, they quickly deduced that the reason the humans congregated in those places must be a wonderful substance called ‘hot dogs.’

Government however, provided them a clue, as almost every government leader in every nation, no matter of belief or political system, mentioned receiving their powers from, or in fact called upon for blessing, a supreme being called ‘God’, or some derivation thereof. They deduced that this ‘God’ must be a very enigmatic creature indeed, to bestow so many conflicting visions and blessings upon warring groups of humans.

Their interest piqued, they naturally looked for where to find this God. And they realized that once every week, millions and millions of humans flocked to things called ‘churches.’ Sometimes the churches even had more people and were built larger and grander than the sporting stadiums. A few even surpassed Disneyland and some were said to serve actual human fuel. (Upon trying said fuel though, something called ‘organic whole oat non-gmo soy communion wafers’, they soon went back to hot dogs.) Discovering that there were millions upon millions of churches, they decided to split up and each investigate some of the larger ones.

So this alien drives into the church parking lot. (See? It’s all coming together.) Wishing to be inconspicuous, he tries to pull into the first spot he sees, but is frantically waved and yelled at by a very zealous (and large) human. From the large human, he learns that he is apparently something referred to as ‘A Visitor’, and is only allowed to park in brightly marked spaces at the front of the church. Noting his consternation at this prospect, two of the other humans try to reason with the zealous one on his behalf. The zealous one laughs them off in such a way and mentions that he is showing ‘the love of God’ so much that the alien wonders if this might be God. He makes a mental note of it as he pulls his rented car into his designated space that he now knows he has been given out of something called ‘love.’ He gets out of his car and tries to take stock of his surroundings. On his left is what appears to be a mall, but with brands he has not seen anywhere else on earth. There’s Noah’s Arkade, The Overflowing Cup, Jonah’s Fish & Chips, Coffee Bean and Fig Leaf, and The Seven Judgments Acai Bowl. Turning to his right, he sees spectacular multilevel fields, each with their own wedding chapel. And behind him an army of human family units approach. Oddly enough, few of them seem incredibly overjoyed to see their God. And finally, in front of him, looming like a great hulk of space and time, is the greeting team. He can only assume this is what they are called due to the banner above the tent out of which they started pouring when his car hit that visitor space. He tries to avoid them, but they are on him in an instant, barreling over all those whom he realizes must not be visitors.

Sixteen hugs, seven handshakes, four life stories, and three-and-a-half nametags later, he is walking up the steps to the most ornate building of the landscape, wondering if perhaps ‘god’ is ‘pluralistic’, and the greeting team is it. They certainly seemed to answer to no one. He makes a note of it. As he climbs, he starts to think that perhaps visitor parking was actually necessary, as it seems they located the church farther back from the street so as not to get in the way of the waterfall, cascading down the steps next to him. Perhaps the waterfall is God. It is lined with gold plates on which are inscribed different human names, and monetary amounts. That may be how they pay tribute to the Waterfall God. He makes another note.

The alien steps through one of the six sets of ornate double doors. On each set, there are posted two more greeters, with a line funneling to each. Having learned from his last Greeting Team experience, he quickly forms a third line in between the two, and escapes the greeters, followed much to his surprise by many humans, all too happy to reach the church foyer unscathed. Feeling strangely compelled to do so, he walks quickly to one of the three lobby coffee shops and orders the sweet, sweet human drink that seems to do nothing for his sustenance, but strangely…his brain no longer seems to care. After standing in line for about twenty minutes and deciding on the Javalleluia over the Abraham and Latte, some sounds start to emanate from what the signs refer to as ‘The Center.’ He gets out of line, expecting all the humans to follow, as it seems this is signaling the entrance of God’s presence. At least the human singing melodically just said that. Perhaps God is instead in the coffee? The humans certainly seem to think so, as none of them are getting out of line.

Coffee-less he heads into The Center. Surely God must be here. The room is enormous, with probably thousands of seats, all pointed at a very small stage. Everything is dark, lit only by aisle lights, except for the brilliant moving colors on that stage, lighting up beautifully the rolling smoke. The perfectly crafted music draws him as close to the stage as possible, without daring to enter the unseated section at the very front, filled by a mass of humanity. Some of them are weeping, some of them are yelling, all of them have their arms raised out towards the human on the center of the platform. He certainly doesn’t look like a god, with his unkempt hair and laced-up boots, skin-tight jeans and loose belly, lens-less glasses and chest hair that looked to be a lifeform of its own. Yet the humans seem to follow his every move, his every word. They yell when he hits a long musical note, and weep when he plays an instrumental section. This must be God.

There are also nine other lesser gods on the stage. Well, seven…two of the gods keep bending down to worship shiny metal boxes at their feet. (I’ll go ahead and break the fourth wall here… )

But after the song, the central god seems to offer some sort of prayer to a god of his own. At least, he says the words ‘God’ and ‘Lord’ alternatingly about every three or four words. But yet the prayer is largely focused on himself, and the alien concludes that the prayer must be a form of tradition among the gods on the platform, and nothing more. This is confirmed when the music begins again, and this time the chants do not mention God or a supreme being at all, but end up repeating lyrics from a song his rented car had started playing when he couldn’t figure out how to tell it to stop. Lyrics by someone of the name of ‘Lady Gaga.’ This version currently being played shares lyrics, but the music is only vaguely similar and much worse. But even though the lyrics mention nothing of God, the humans do not lower their arms, or stop yelling for the gods on stage. Therefore, the alien concludes, the central God must be God, as he is worshiped no matter what.

The third piece of human music confirms this still further, as it mentions God, but only as it pertained to ‘showers of blessings’ upon the humans. No worship, except for that of the hands and voices directed at the human on the center stage. He must be the God the alien was looking for.

Yet then he leaves the stage. All the gods do…even the shiny metal boxes are carried away by humans dressed in all black, scurrying away in such a manner as the alien had only seen when a human of importance was about to arrive. And surely it was so. A lone jester enters The Center, and everyone laughs at his words and anecdotes, as he outlines the activities for the humans for the upcoming week. Yes, this must be where God lived. Each day had a different activity for which the humans were responsible to attend. Each activity was announced, then followed by a joking comment about the ridicule they would receive should they not sign up. But behind each joke, there was the note of seriousness. Surely, these are the tactics of a king over his kingdom.

And then it happens. The jester gives another prayer of tradition, for which no one applauds, but then breaks out suddenly to announce in a loud voice the name of the human which was on all the programs, the large screens above the speaking topic title, and even the buildings themselves! Wild applause breaks out, and some humans even stand in admiration. The supreme being humbly accepts the praise, and then gives another prayer of tradition, focused on what they would receive that day. After the perfectly crafted prayer, the supreme being jumps up, and runs through a perfectly-timed anecdote about a humorous situation that had happened to him that week. His manner is well-practiced, his affectation wonderful. The alien looks around at the faces of the humans. They are lost in his glory, hanging on his every word. They laugh when his voice goes up, and sigh when it goes down. Every eye is on the lone figure on the lighted stage. Every light is on the lone figure…both behind and in front, to the side…he looks like a three-dimensional god. At one point, the screens do not change when he wants them to. A dagger’s look shoots from the supreme being to the back of the room where the alien assumed the lowly humans doing his bidding resided, but he passes it off quickly with a smile and a round of applause for the humiliated servants. Handled eloquently like a benevolent dictator. This must be him.

The supreme being mentions the word God many times, and refers to a book in which the humans found their guidelines on how to worship this God. The human playing the music had not mentioned this. For a few minutes, the alien thought that perhaps the lone figure on stage might actually not be the supreme being. However, the book in question is never opened. And in both instances that it was quoted, he found that the book in the seat in front of him said something wildly different, as did the book in the lap of the person sitting next to him. No explanation is given for this by the human on the stage. Surely if this were the guide that showed the humans how to follow their supreme being, they would be more cautious than this? He concludes that it must be yet another tradition, and decides to focus again on the more immediate and obvious signs of love and adoration, which were of course directed at the one figure who held the attention of thousands. How could one human have the answer for everything and hold everyone in perfect stillness without any dissent, unless he was their supreme being? There was dissent at Disneyland, at the stadiums, especially amongst the government. But here, no one dared question the speaker, even though the alien was sure he heard at least two or three contradictory or at least logically questionable statements. No, this must be the God he had been looking for.

As the speaker nears his ending, he slows up beautifully. Each word holds new meaning, and every pause is rich with presence. Some of the humans begin crying again. Some yell out in agreement. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, soft drones of melodies can be heard. The supreme being asks if anyone who wants God would come to the stage in front of him. Many do. There they were, crying, all congregated at the steps, looking up to their leader. His face melts in compassion towards them. The alien feels a strange tug to go down there with them. Is it the music? The melodies? The soft voice of the supreme being? Something spiritual… Nope, it’s an usher pulling on his shirt so that he can grab and pass a small metal bucket. He looks into the bucket. There is much of the human’s currency in it. Here was assurance! Surely the humans would not give their wages to anyone who was not their supreme being. He quickly passes the bucket and looks into the church program he had been given. He looks for the financial record, as he knew from his study of earth, must be listed by non-profit organizations. And here it showed…profit! What a wonderful government certain humans had created to allow themselves less taxes but still be able to make a profit for themselves. And where did all the profit go? The graph showed some to what the humans called charities. This would be a wonderful place to find God, he had originally thought, but very few of the humans had seemed to care. And sure enough, that was the lowest part of the graph. He went up the graph to find that the second largest was the sustenance of the supreme being’s temple. And largest, was the money to the gods. And the largest amount of that, went directly to the supreme being. It was finalized. Here he had found the center of the human’s attention, the center of the church’s building, the name on the church literature, the one with apparent disregard or at least disinterest for what the book he claimed to be his guide said when compared to his own agenda for his words, the one for whom most of the applause and tears were given, the one who was congregated towards after the programmed production ended, the one whom no one spoke against, and the one whom received most of the humans’ collective wages. He had found, what in his mind, constituted a supreme being.

Ecstatic, he returns to his rendezvous point with the other eight aliens. Oddly enough, however, he finds that each of them also believes they had found the supreme beings at the churches they investigated. Upon further investigation, they concluded that perhaps there was an invisible God to which all the church leaders were responsible. But they soon abandoned that notion, as a look into the theological statements of each leader found that each believed something different about the book they all believed they had received from God. Each mentioned that they believed this book, but each disregarded whatever portion of it they saw fit to promulgate their particular view and agenda, or vision as they called it. Surely if this were the words of their supreme being, they would be cautious above all else to find out what it actually said and to never put their agenda above it, no matter how difficult it may be? They concluded then, that earth either had no God, or if it did, He had been lost by the humans amongst their unquenchable desire for stature, security, and personal comfort.

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I am an imperfect person (who incidentally would be very scared if someone viewed my life as closely as these aliens viewed these churches, haha). And we are an imperfect people, trying to worship a perfect God. I get that. But I also get that that is a reason, and should not be an excuse. So while I do not think that we as a God-believing whole are at the point in time at which the aliens visited these churches (with their time-traveling powers, of course), I do think we might be closer than we’d like to think we are. And I know that it would be nice if someone could walk into a church, and unmistakenly see that the focus was on God. And the fact that I’m the one on stage, with everyone staring at me with a moving gobo light pointed at my face so that I can look right for the recorded version of the service on Vimeo, so that we can go over our Vimeo stats in staff meeting and make decisions on how much tithe money to spend on new RED cameras because that’s what Mars Hill uses, makes it so blasted hard for it to seem like we’re focusing on God’s presence when a logical mind might say that we’re focusing on me on stage, saying things, making sounds with a gigantic pedalboard, and my lighted face on the screen. (Okay, the gigantic pedalboard might just be a personal problem. )

I applaud the churches who are serving God; imperfectly, but with whole hearts. Most of them have done more for God than I ever have. But just for a second…dream with me. What if there was a place without a stage. Where ‘worship leader’ means someone who worships with their life by example, and just happens to play guitar. Where ‘teacher’ means one of the gifts people are given, not necessarily CEO. Where church oversight means the elders (literally, people of age and experience) who have been through it before and have been proven to be people who seek God through bad times, good times, and through times when they question His very existence, rather than people who graduated from their respective country’s school system having chosen to major in theology. Where servants are referred to as such, and free from the stresses of running a business called church, and are able to serve the people as they are hurt, sick, or in need spiritually. Where the church ledger reads zero dollars in and zero dollars out, because all tithes offered are encouraged to go to charities, or donate-able goods (literally…’bringing the tithes into the storehouse’), and acts of love are encouraged to be carried out by the members. Where no electricity bills are needed to be paid, because the folks hosting the gathering would’ve had their house lights on already. Where giant gatherings of celebratory worship are carried out in fields or backyards, using donated sound systems or none at all because the people’s chants of how great their God is are more important, more infectious, and more emotionally captivating than any guitar solo ever could be. Where perhaps…just perhaps…people would come because they see God, actual God, and not because of any music or marketing or technology that gets them in the seats so that we can then assure them again and again that God really is there.

In the world and country in which we live, some of that seems wildly impractical and implausible. I have learned that unfortunately there are some ‘necessary evils’ in running church that may be, well, necessary. But oddly enough, I’m pretty sure the dream in the preceding paragraph seems very, very Biblical and book of Acts-ish.

I’m not saying we’re doing it wrong; but I’m absolutely saying that I think we can do it better. At the very least…when you’re on stage this weekend, or attending church, try to see things from an outsider’s perspective. And more importantly, from the Creator’s.

Splendid.
Karl.

Huge thanks to the following people, who helped me with this post. Pulling me back when I went too far, and pushing me when I didn’t go far enough.

Rev. Dr. Robin J. Dugall (Pastor, Doctorate in Ministry, and someone with more hands-on ministry experience than I will ever have)
Dan Verkade (Church Musician, Software Engineer, Logical Expert, and one of the wisest men I’ve ever known)
Matt Quillen (Professional Session Musician, Church Musician, Sound & Media Tech Director, and forward theological thinker who’s not afraid to say what needs to be said)