Last week our church—an unremarkable and ordinary congregation in central Texas—was prominently featured in the New York Times.
The instigation of the story was not newsworthy: I have worked with Ruth Graham, the author of the article, on a story before, and she reached out a few weeks ago looking for leads on the growing gap between church-going in Gen Z men and women. I didn’t have any other leads for her to pursue, but what I do know is that the phenomena she was interested in is clearly visible in our church and at Hope Church, our recent church plant. For whatever reason, in the last few years, we have been honored to welcome and shepherd an unusually large number of young men. So we agreed that she could include us in her story.
I was and am aware that the audience of the Times is predominately secular, predominately national or centered on urban areas, and therefore predominately politically and ideologically left of center. As a non-urban church who is publicly committed to historic Christian practice and doctrine, to be profiled in the Times does not seem like a natural fit.
I am also not naive to the reality that many in our church felt that the article did not accurately or wholly represent the beauty of our congregation on a local level. Perhaps they felt like it lacked nuance. Perhaps they felt that it linked us to a “side” of some theological or cultural divide that we don’t really belong to fully. That is an entirely reasonable response. A publication like the Times is focused on reporting on trends and patterns on a national or international scale, and so asking them to portray us exactly like we would want is a bit like asking the IRS to audit your 5-year olds piggy bank. There just isn’t enough data of interest to enough people in their audience, and so it is natural to use our congregation as a small example of what appears to be a larger phenomena and painting us with a broad stroke. All of this was exactly what I expected.
Our interactions with Ruth were nothing but positive. To my knowledge, she is a sister in Christ who is committed to fair reporting on religious stories and trends in the country. Not an easy job. I commend her for that work, and I found the article fair, well-written, and an interesting conversation starter.
And yet, anytime you are used as an example of something larger than yourself, it is normal to feel a bit misunderstood. In our church, we often say that the church is not just like a family, but is a family, full of those who are united to Christ and therefore insolubly united to each other. To invite a stranger into your living room is one thing; to do so knowing they will publish their thoughts about your living room to hundreds of thousands of readers is another.
None of this is helped by the fact that we live in a world of colossal assumptions and general bad faith. The article posed the question “why are more Gen Z men going to church?”, and just a glimpse through comments on any platform would make it seem the answer is all wrapped up: young men are going to church because they are told, presumably in churches like ours, that they are more important than women and invited into a misogynistic, patriarchal institution where they are given cultural power. Of course the article did not say this, and of course we know this is not true of our church.
Sadly, there are toxic church cultures out there—places where the power of the gospel may be proclaimed but not lived out in love and service towards one another—places where women are cut off in a way that suffocates the good news right out of the air. There are even examples of this in our theological tribes and traditions. But we follow a Jesus who, as Dorothy Sayers has said, women took seriously, since: “They had never known a man like this Man… who took them as he found them and was completely unself-conscious.” It’s this intentional, all-seeing Jesus that compels us into creating a culture where men and women fulfill together the great commission in a beautiful and necessary partnership, or as our teaching statement puts it: “a spiritual family marked not by hierarchy and authority but mutual love, honor, and welcome.” By God’s grace, I believe we have been faithful in that aim. I rejoice that both men and women in our church feel their dignity restored by their equal inclusion to the body of Christ, where honor is found not in our position, status, authority, or gifts but in our belonging to Jesus and to one another.
So if we were aware of the possibility that inviting reporters into our gathering could lead to negative assumptions from the world, and if we knew that we would be welcoming potentially difficult conversations or even misunderstandings, why would we invite them?
To be frank, it is because Jesus has persuaded us that light cannot be hidden, but needs to shine.
You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.
If the church of Jesus Christ is the light in a dark world, the city set on a hill, trying to hide is futile. As Francis Schaeffer has said, we live, whether we like it or not, “before the watching world.”
There are plenty of folks out there that we do need to watch out for, wolves and hypocrites and white washed tombs. We are also called to protect the vulnerable among us, and to keep watch for any doctrine that would cause us to stray from faithfulness to Jesus’ simple kingdom. This is exactly what the authority of the church is for, both historic and actualized in present-time.
And yet, the church’s posture to the watching world should firstly be one of non-anxious welcome. It’s also Schaeffer that said that what the church will need in future generations to continue their faithful witness are “honest answers to honest questions.” We invited the Times because they had honest questions. We may not know the answer to why more young men are coming to church than young women, but we do have honest answers to the longings of the human heart. At the table every Sunday we provide honest answers to the mystery of the divine: God meets us there! Provided we have nothing to hide, we have nothing to lose and everything to gain from exposing ourselves to those who are drawn to the light of Christ. Skeptics are welcome.
Following Jesus requires a kind of radical hospitality that always runs the risk of bad reviews and misunderstandings. Jesus was not into damage control, and none of his disciples were in charge of PR (although they tried to be a few times). When he was invited to sinner’s houses, he came ready to feast. When he was invited to Pharisee’s houses, he came aware of their intentions, still ready to feast. And the kind of people he invites to his feast are the ones who you would never expect. Suffice it to say, Jesus isn’t worried about what the watching world will say. He was and is worried about his mission—the pleasure of his Father, his humiliation and sacrifice—but not his image and popularity.
There are worse things than being misunderstood. There are greater glories to fear than the praise or scorn of man. But don’t forget, one day Jesus will be vindicated before all men. Whatever shame heaped on him unjustly will melt away like snow in Texas. And the gospel says: so will it be with you.
Blessed are the misunderstood, because the unveiling of all things is coming.
