Thoughts

  • Authority Issues

    My sweeping takeaway from The Democratization of American Christianity is this: ingrained in the very DNA of the American Protestant church is an aversion to authority. 250 years after gaining our independence from England, nothing has changed; we’re still fiercely independent, anti-authoritarian, and obsessed with freedom. No wonder we struggle with passages like Romans 13:1 (if we even read it in the first place):

    Let every person be subject to governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.

    Even as I read it now, my heart bristles. My mind jumps quickly to all the exceptions, all the ways that I could possibly explain it away. “What about tyrannical governments? Does God establish those leaders too? What about Hitler?”

    I don’t know all the answers. But I do find it interesting — and it helps to explain some of my experiences with Church culture — that our resistance to authority is nothing new. It’s woven into the very history of American Christianity.


    Daily thoughts on The Democratization of American Christianity by Nathan O. Hatch.

  • Two Forces

    I feel opposing forces pulling on my heart as I read this book. One is enthusiasm. It shouts with excitement, “Go on, you Christians—spread the gospel!” The monumental pace at which early American Protestants proselytized in city, town, and countryside is truly remarkable.

    The other force is skepticism. “It was all empty preaching—a zeal to grow a human movement, with little real commitment to teaching Christians how to live and grow in the faith after conversion,” it says with a sneer.

    I’ve felt this conflict before. I’m afraid I don’t have many answers, only more questions.

    Where does discipleship and Christian formation belong in the life of the Church? What is the purpose of the Church: to reach the lost or to grow believers in the faith? When does a zeal for evangelism become merely a zeal for growth? And what good is conversion if the convert is never taught how to follow Christ?


    Daily thoughts on The Democratization of American Christianity by Nathan O. Hatch.

  • Reform & Rebellion

    I found it fascinating to learn that many Christian leaders in America prior to the American Revolution were reformers rather than rebels, meaning they were more interested in bringing about change within their respective groups than in separating from them. The massive influence of the American Revolution on American Christianity cannot be denied. The separatist impulses of the self-ascribed “Christian” movement popularized by James O’Kelly, Abner Jones, Elias Smith, and Barton W. Stone may never have come to fruition without the language of liberty, equality, and resistance that the American Revolution made so convincing.


    Daily thoughts on The Democratization of American Christianity by Nathan O. Hatch.

  • The Rise of Religious Consumerism

    The diversity of religious movements that emerged after the American Revolution is impressive. Empowered by the distinctly American belief that all men are free to rely upon themselves rather than an established authority, ambitious people from all backgrounds and walks of life began to pioneer new religious groups, both inside and outside the bounds of Christian orthodoxy. Here we see the rise of the Free Will Baptists, the Mormons, and the Universalists.

    “The democratic winnowing of the church produced not just pluralism but also striking diversity. The flexibility and innovation of religious organizations made it possible for an American to find an amenable group no matter what his or her preference in belief, practice, or institutional structure.”

    It seems to me that this era of church history helped create what I would call “religious consumerism,” which remains a striking quality of American Christianity today. This emphasis on the churchgoer’s preferences has no doubt affected the way church leaders think about attracting new members.


    Daily thoughts on The Democratization of American Christianity by Nathan O. Hatch.

  • Driven By Success

    The camp meeting came to define religious revivalism in America. Why? In a word, success. In the same years that British Methodist leaders were choosing to sacrifice numerical growth to preserve church discipline, American Methodism, enabled largely by ever-popular camp meetings, pursued expansion with an unquenchable zeal. Francis Asbury described American camp meetings as “fishing with a large net” and despite warnings from his British counterparts, championed them as the future of Methodism. To his point, by 1811 an estimated 400 to 500 camp meetings were being held each year.

    There is no doubt that camp meetings were popular, but did they really lead men to God? I don’t know yet. I guess I’ll keep reading.


    Daily thoughts on The Democratization of American Christianity by Nathan O. Hatch.

  • Too Far

    In recent years I have often thought that the Protestant church could use a little more Catholic influence, a little more tradition. I look around and see a landscape of shattered churches that are quick to split. It disheartens me. But as I read about the spark of these denominations in the United States, I can’t help but root for them. They were formed on core principles that feel so natural and right to me: the idea that “common” people can think for themselves, the belief that every Christian can and should interpret Scripture without the need for an official minister, and the conviction that a calling doesn’t require a theology degree. Yet here I am, a few hundred years later, wondering if we swung too far against the establishment.


    Daily thoughts on The Democratization of American Christianity by Nathan O. Hatch.

  • Sound Familiar?

    Hatch compares revolution-era American preachers with politicians. Young, energetic, and driven by the idea that anybody — not just a trained religious elite — can inspire and lead the masses, these gifted speakers gained immense popularity and drew large audiences. It’s concerning to think that magnetic personalities might have played a larger role in steering the direction of religion in our country than the love of scripture or the commitment to obey the words of Jesus.


    Daily thoughts on The Democratization of American Christianity by Nathan O. Hatch.

  • Weakness


  • GOD IS GOOD AND NOT ALWAYS NICE

    I used to believe that God is good, meaning that he gives me what I want. Maybe not right away, of course — I was taught that at a young age — but certainly in time, he will give me what I want. I suppose really, I thought God was nice. 

    I used to think that pain and suffering must be a result of sin, somehow. I wouldn’t have verbally affirmed that notion, but somewhere deep in my heart, I believed it.

    I was, and surely in some ways still am, an “American Christian.” God bless America, and if he doesn’t, well, then I guess we did something wrong.

    My dad died when I was a teenager. Death didn’t fit into my faith framework, especially since my dad was a godly man. My family prayed for healing, and we believed he would live, but God didn’t give us what we wanted.

    Somehow, I had missed all the parts in the Bible where people — even righteous people — endured great pain and loss. Job, Abraham, Moses, David, Esther, Paul, and, oh yeah, Jesus!

    Suddenly, I had to wrestle with God, or straight-up dump him. I chose the former, which can only be explained supernaturally. It took several years to get answers. Heck, it took several years before I found the right questions to ask! But in my pursuit, and through pain, God began to reveal more of himself to me.

    I still believe that God is good, but I’ve learned that goodness is not the same thing as niceness. I’m glad I don’t believe in a nice god anymore; I believe in a good one.

  • There’s No Place Like Home

    I love my little copper cup that Averie gave me as an engagement gift, some nine months ago now. It feels like I’ve been drinking from it my whole life. It’s a beautiful cup: sleek, shiny rim and top half intersecting the dull and tarnished bottom half like sunlight breaking through rain clouds after a storm. And right in the middle, cut almost in half, is the simple design of a camping tent with the inscription scrawled above it: THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME. Even the imperfection of the apostrophe looks like a shooting star, though I’m sure it’s just a scratch. I love my perfect cup; there’s not another one like it.

    My cup reminds me of war and peace, pain and joy. It seems to me a perfect personification of the tension that exists inside the human heart every day.

    I know that Heaven is my home and my Earthly dwelling is only temporary, but inside my heart I build up this tent and live inside it, insulating myself from the Home I’m destined for. My cup reminds me where I belong.

    I grow accustomed to the feelings of sadness, anger, and bitterness, resigning myself to them. Out of fear, I choose apathy over hope. My cup reminds me of the truth.

    I feel the war waging around me and within me and I grow disheartened, wondering if good really does prevail over evil. My cup reminds me that it does.

    Copper is such a beautiful metal in all its forms, for it wears its imperfections like a badge of honor, the way boys proudly flaunt their scars. It isn’t afraid of aging or of the tarnish that comes from hard work, it simply becomes more beautiful. Its patina reminds me what it is and where it has been. That is what I want to be to others: a reminder.

    Remember to breathe.

    Remember who you are.

    Remember what you’re made for.

    Remember to drink more water.

    Remember to dream.

    Remember to hope.

    Remember that Jesus will return and make us a new home.

    Remember, there’s no place like home.