When something is ‘normal’ and feels expected we don’t question it much. It doesn’t strike us as odd or out of place. This is where our culture and the worldviews around us can sometimes create blind spots. I’ve learned a lot about my blindspots from my Pastor Dustin Freeman (priest at our family’s Anglican Church). He’s helped me see the cultural norms around me and how they might be influencing my thinking. I’m just scratching the surface on all that Dustin can teach me. But essentially he’s taught me that there are many ‘isms’ that highly influence us without knowing it. As I mentioned, 3 in particular seemed to be at play in my dialogue with my friend: Individualism, Consumerism and Rationalism.
I don’t want to assume by even knowing these things exist that I am some how immune from them. Recently I’ve learned a lot about how other worldviews have affected my own. I’m trying to replay some of the stories and unpack how these *isms have affected me and those around me, especially as we ask our questions and have conversations.
Individualism asks the question: “What is the best thing for me?”
My simple desire? To process how those *isms worked their way into my heart and mind in-and-through my experiences in church growing up. And, how those same *isms were exposed and dissipated day-by-day in my fellowship in the Catholic Church.
It’s funny really. I haven’t known anything about the *isms consciously. But, when I hear the labels and basic descriptions they make so much sense. I guess that’s the whole point with *isms. They are so deeply ingrained in an experience that you don’t really see them. It’s like explaining water to fish.
Here’s the ocean I have been swimming in my whole life as it relates to individualism.
When I showed up to a professional baseball game in the past I was met by friendly attendants in the parking lot and at the door multiple times. When I showed up to a coffee shop I was offered gourmet coffee catered to my every liking. When I entered an auditorium for a live concert I flanked by greeters handing me a bulletin printed in color on high quality card stock. The modern auditorium was filled with cushy chairs, high quality sound systems, lighting controlled by a technician, and a stage filled with expensive music equipment flanked by high definition displays with animation and graphics. Here’s what ironic…I would say much do the same about my experiences at church in the past.
If I was late, it was no concern because, like at the movies, people were shuffling during the previews in as the professional band sung to to us some pre-songs with animated words and pleasant images on the screen. Someone might walk in with a large Frappuccino made from the coffee shop adjacent to the auditorium about 5 minutes into the song and gave a fist bump to his family in the front row. Then a dynamic, high energy guy jumped on the stage energetically with a Garth Brooks headset on. He told everyone to have a seat and that he was “so glad I had decided” to attend that morning. I can almost hear a flight attendant echo in my ears saying, “we know you have many choices when you fly. Thank you for choosing American Airlines.” He encouraged me not to give anything if I was new and mentioned some free programs that were occurring in the coming week, each one catered to a different demographic.
Sound harsh? Sound cynical? No. To me this was normal. I’ve experienced this exact flow over 1,000 times. It’s baked into my brain. It’s what I’ve come to expect. It’s what I’ve come accept. Why? Because it was all about me.
By contrast, when I entered fellowship in the Catholic Church, my individualism began to be exposed and dissipate simultaneously. When I attend Catholic Mass there are no greeters. There are big, often intimidating, heavy unlocked doors and lots of people and walking in at 10 till the hour. As I enter it’s clear that many people have arrived early and some non-verbally ask me to enter quietly as they are praying, kneeling in pews. The room is almost silent. I look for a place to discard my coffee. No trash cans as apparently no one would but me would assume to of bring in refreshments. Not because there’s a sign saying not to. It’s just obvious that it’s not time for that. I later learned that many Catholics often fast for one hour prior to mass.
The mass starts on the strike of the hour with a bell whether everyone has made it to their seats or not (though most have). Everyone goes from a kneeling position to standing. There’s a processional of young children carrying a cross and candles followed by multiple men in vestments. One is carrying a huge book in reverence which I assume is the Bible. A hymn is being played by an organist (I’m assuming he’s in the back because I can’t see him) and sung by the congregation, most by heart. I’m triggered not by the last movie I went to see but the last wedding I went to. There’s a pervasive message in the room: “Wake up and pay attention because something sacred and special is about to happen.”
Following the opening hymn, the main priest breaks a pause of silence by saying, “In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirt” as everyone make the sign of the cross with their hands over their chest. The priest then starts into a liturgy of prayers with lots of back-and-forth between him and the congregation. Sometimes we are standing, sometimes kneeling, and making other hand gestures. But whatever is happening it’s all in unison, except for me it seems as I try to catch up.
I’m lost. It’s uncomfortable. But wait?!? Maybe it’s awesome?!? For the first time in as long as I can remember, I realize that I am not in the audience. I’m not being marketed to. It’s not about me. I didn’t know how I self-focused I was until I experienced something that wasn’t directed at me. In fact, half the time the Priest was just staring up over our heads (I supposed directing his words to God).
Early on in my Catholic experiences I processed my experiences with my friend and Priest, John Jordan, from Saint Laurence Anglican Church in Southlake, Texas. His church is a part of something called the “Anglo-Catholic” movement. In one comical story, he told me about a time that he preached at another evangelical church. While he was leading the service he paused to pray and took a moment just in silence. Instinctively the keyboard player hopped to his station and started playing some music in the background. He looked out of the corner of his eye and motion for the player to stop playing and just allow there to be silence. After the service, he talked to the keyboard player who said that he was playing because their demographic like a fast-paced service without any gaps or lulls in the program. That’s why the band typically hops up to the stage when the Pastor prays at the end of the sermon. Father John was puzzled and responded kindly and simply saying, “Jesus is the only audience on Sunday.” As I continued to discuss with Father John I learned that if no one shows up to mass, he would pray, read, administer the sacraments, and do every other thing in the exact same way. Crazy!
It’s not about me. It’s not about the Pastor. It’s not about the visitors. It’s only about Jesus.
To read “How has God shown me a world outside my consumerism? (Part 2 of 3) click here.