The Church has this unfortunate habit of making things more complicated than they need to be. And sure, it looks like wisdom at first. But I think the reality is that there are very few situations where there’s any really good reason for a church to own property, a fleet of vans, or have some complicated non-profit tax status.
But over complication isn’t just in the big picture either. Even down to the Church’s attempt to gather together, things are inflated to impossibly gigantic sizes. Between a four foot stage elevation, a coffee bar in the lobby and an eight piece contemporary band, the line between Church royalty and the common folk is drawn with thick black paint.
So at the end of the day no one really connects, no one really changes—except of course, by God’s grace, when someone falls through the system’s cracks and they accidentally make a real, authentic, personal connection with another human being.
The famed puritan writer, Richard Baxter puts it like this:
“Simplicity is the ordinary attendant of sincerity.”
When things are kept simple, there is a natural tendency toward sincerity. In fact, as soon as we endeavor to systemize something, we throw a mask over whatever authenticity may exist. Over time, it’s bound to completely disintegrate.
Just consider the basic difference between telling the truth and telling a lie. The truth is always the simplest—even when reality is complicated. But when you introduce a lie, you’ve created two parallel realities, both of which must be maintained for either one not to fall apart. Even when the truth is complicated, a lie makes it worse.
So, when a church builds a system intended to make guests feel welcome, or compelled to give, or compelled to serve, or whatever, what happens when the lives of congregation don’t match the system? Both must be maintained. And something will have to go: sincerity. And what’s worse, maintaining the system will mean missing real problems in the congregation.
