Catechesis for the Common Good: Country Club Churches
“Catechesis for the Common Good” is commentary on basic Reformed principles and doctrine as they pertain to the benefit of the public square and society at large.
I want to spend the next few posts discussing an outlook and attitude that I’ve discerned and noticed among today’s Christian. The outlook is what I call a “country club” view of the church and the attitude is one in which benefits are expected to bestowed. It’s tied to a much-wider cultural phenomenon—a cavernous quest for ubiquitous utility. This post, and a few more, will be devoted to explaining, criticizing, and resisting this phenomenon.
To start, you may have heard the term “cheap grace” before. It comes from the twentieth century German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Bonhoeffer coined the phrase to refer to a lazy form of Christianity that doesn’t take work or works seriously. A form of Christianity that doesn’t know the cost of discipleship. Bonhoeffer juxtaposed this “cheap grace” with “costly grace.” He explained the former this way:
"Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate."
Cheap grace says things like, “Ah, it’s all good—Jesus will forgive me (again).” It will affirm that “He gets us” and leaves people there. It says, “All are welcome.” “You don’t have to change.” “You don’t have to submit to people in authority.” “Jesus doesn’t want you to suffer.” “You don’t need to go to Bible study—you go to church on Sundays.” It casually and repeatedly treats grace like a “reset” button.
Bonhoeffer wrote about “cheap grace” nearly a hundred years ago. And, to no one’s surprise, we still have “cheap grace” Christians today. But we also have another, related problem that is just as deleterious to the Church and society. It’s what I would call “cheap church.” This is the view that the Church should be beneficial to my life and attending a local church is optional or supplemental.
I call this a “country club” view of the Church. Like a country club, it sees the Church as an establishment with amenities that people can frequent when they want and get the goods they want. Those who hold this view tend to talk about the “amazing worship,” “great preaching,” “caring children’s ministry,” and “yummy coffee.” It’s about the products, personnel, performance, and pococurante participation.
Sadly, the church reinforces this outlook and these preferences. They indulge their expectations. Every time they brew the beans and use visuals behind lyrics. Every time the staff thinks “Let’s make everyone feel welcome.” Every time the ushers act like restaurant hostesses: “Welcome! Here’s a bulletin. Let’s get you seated.” Comfort is prized, needs are satisfied. Amenities, amenities, amenities.
The weight is heavy. Staff and leadership know that if they don’t provide these amenities, “attendees” will either bring their own (e.g. iPads for the kids, Starbucks, and snacks) or find them at another church. So they keep up with the Bob Joneses. They put TVs in the nursery, coffee right outside the sanctuary, and offer grape juice, wine, and fresh grapes to squeeze. All preferences are welcomed.
The more options, the better. Even when it comes to worship. “We’ve got traditional, ancient-future, postmodern, high church, and silent worship services. Take your pick.” Leaders aim for inclusion and engagement for as many as they can reach. More electric guitar in the name of “saving” the world. More cowbell in the name of becoming all things to all men in order to win some.
Country Club churches stay away from dusty, arid hymns from Newtons and Wesleys because people don’t like those anymore. Or understand them. And they definitely don’t try to sing the Psalms like an out-of-touch frozen and chosen church. Their sermons have three points and they condemn sermonizing more than twenty minutes because they will lose people’s attention. They seek to stay relevant.
Participants expect these benefits, commodities, and amenities to be bestowed. They want their shot of confidence. Or their need for a word of affirmation. Or a reminder of the purpose of life after a death in the family. They will get what they need or they will go somewhere to find it. The next church down the street. Reading through Hallmark cards. Listening to sermons on Youtube. They will find it.
Like a country club, participants get to choose when they attend based on the many offerings. Maybe 9 a.m. to get it out of way. Or Saturday night so that they don’t have to get up early. They come on Christmas and Easter because they feel compelled, and on Steven’s birthday because “he likes to go to church when he comes home from college.” Participation is oriented by convenience.
In many respects, church-going is seen as a cultural practice. Though faith might be absolutely vital to a family and their lives, going to church isn’t seen as an obligation or duty. It’s there for their benefit, and the one they will attend will have the best or most convenient commodities and amenities. Their posture toward church is one in which they come just to check it off their weekly to-do list.
Fellowship is treated like catering. They evaluate the “success” of a worship service or event in terms of how well they have curated an experience or catered goods (and been affirmed or complimented by participants). Both leaders and participants, in practice, agree to this. Participants pay the membership fee (i.e., tithe every Sunday or once a month), and the leaders provide the goods. Call it liturgical business.
Underlying this outlook and orientation is an Enlightenment social theory. People are viewed as an association of atoms or interlocking individuals. They are originally detached or divorced from one another and then they come together for this assembly. This is why they are referred to as participants (or attendees or visitors). They aren’t already in the Body, united in Christ. They come “in” from the “outside.”
Finally, foundational to this country club view of the church is the notion of contract. They see communion and community in utilitarian terms. It’s a mutual agreement between two parties. “You give me what I want and I give you what you want.” It’s transactional, and it can be voided by individual abandonment. One party leaves and the other lets them go with indifference or resignation.
In a country club church there are two parties, not a Body. These two parties come together and agree to enter into a relationship. It is a friendship of utility, to utilize Aristotle’s term. One provides consumables, and the other consumes. Goods are the focus. And if one party doesn’t provide the goods, the other has the right, and even obligation, to drop out. They have the duty to find them elsewhere.
The whole “country club church” can be summed in the philosophy of a gas station here in Pittsburgh called “GetGo.” Their philosophy is “Get In. Get Out. Get Going.” The whole purpose is to swing on by and get your commodity (i.e., gas, gum, or Zyn) and then bounce. Applied to “cheap church” and a “country club” outlook, we might put it this way: “Worship. Walk. Get on with Your Week.”
To thematize all this, country club churches are defined by five features: (1) they seek to accommodate as many preferences as they can; (2) they keep up with the latest developments and try to be as relevant as necessary; (3) they evaluate “success” in terms of how well they have curated an experience or catered goods; (4) they have an Enlightenment understanding of participation; (5) and they see communing or the community in utilitarian terms.
In the next installment in this series, I will juxtapose this “country club” notion of the Church with a covenantal view of the Church. Then I will explore what this looks like on Sunday mornings and throughout the week. The final post will tie this phenomenon to the wider cultural quest for ubiquitous utility and how preserving and practicing covenantal community can steer society in the right direction.
Thanks, as always, for reading and sharing. If you aren’t a paid subscriber to Seminary for Society, please consider becoming one. Also, for those interested in neighboring and the common good (and cocktail recipes), please give my podcast (with my friend and colleague, Chris) a listen and give it a kind and generous review on any and all podcast platforms. Many, many thanks!