This afternoon Wilma and I attended two very different Good Friday services. Both were held at two very well known churches in this area, two very different services, exact opposites in tone, attendees, music, sermon, and in emphasis.
The first service was formal, in the exact expression of that word. Magnificent structure, hundreds of stained glass windows, quiet - do we breath or not? The service started with a great bell counting down the number of years of Jesus's life. This was followed by a silent procession of a black draped cross, a young lady carrying an open bible, the fulled robed choir, three blacked dressed pastors etc. All of with almost stoic faces, each to their prescribed place. Solemn music by what must have been a professional choir, Scripture readings with precise entonations of the words, sombers faces - not a smile, not a sneeze, not a step out of place.
The sermon by the stately head pastor was skillfully crafted, word for word.
I found myself wondering if he rally believed what he was saying. Towards the end of his sermon he used the word "perhaps" what seemed like 10 or 12 times as he spoke of the variety of peoples who were part of the death of Jesus. Perhaps they believed this about Jesus, perhaps they saw something that they had never seen before, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
One friend after the service made the comment, "The greatest part of the service was the solo titled WERE YOU THERE WHEN THEY CRUCIFIED MY LORD?
The service ended with a silent recession by thoses who came back down the center isle, in silence with not a smile, in perfect order song folders at a perfect angle. The congregation was intructed to leave the sanctuary in silence.
The contrast was at a church which is described as the "Christian Entertainment Church in Southeast Michigan" Their building is huge with seats for 3 to 4 thousand people, several large TV screens, lights of all kinds, a stage large enough for a giant cross, a row of 7 drummers, guitars, singers, a pit orchastra, not astained class window in the whole building, and, ultimately, the lone head pastor sitting on a stool with a small table holding his electonic device with his sermon.
He is dressed in a plaid type shirt, not tucked in, a mic next to his mouth so that he can move around the stage as he talks - perfectly casual, wonderfully prepared, his image is displayed on the large TV screens etc.
Both services were a great experience, I even sat in this later service with a smoothie purchased in the churches "cafe". Both pastors had done a great deal of thinking regarding their sermons for this Good Friday. The first was scholarly, entoned in the right words, creating the right atmosphere. He talked about lots of different people who had responded to the crucifixion. I walked away wondering, if I had to attend this church on a regular bases where would faith in Jesus end up?
As we walked into the second church the music was so loud that it must have ruined one of the battries im my hearing aids. (Our grandson was one of the drummers ). As we drove home the aid kept beeping "put in another battery".
The sermon was focused on Jesus and "radical hope" that is offered to everyone whether you are dressed to the hilt or were in cutoff jeans. Whether you wore your baseball cap backwards, wore a motorcycle helmet which you placed in the seat next to you. You could take in your coffee and listen, clap long and loudly, sing until you throat was sore, or just sit there and watch the big screens. The message was about "your name being written on the cross" in the end they showed this huge cross with thousands of names written on it - the question was whether your name is on the cross!
Two very different services, two very different pastors with two very different staffs, choirs, and styles, but both with a message about the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth .... on Good Friday.
Two very different church buildings, the first a marvel telling the whole world that we are a church. The second is like a big box store which holds and draws thousands of people.
As my good friend in China told me one day, "Don't worry Bill, Jesus knows what he is doing!"
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