If Christianity were a Christmas movie

Have you ever noticed that there are some very plausible dualities at play in our lives? Take for example what occurs on the radio station every November. At that time of the year it becomes apparent to me that there are two types of people in this world: those who can’t get enough Christmas music and those who can. I don’t know where you land on that spectrum but I’m guessing you know where I do: I cannot switch back to the classic rock station fast enough. And then there are the Christmas movies that we identify our narrative within year after year. A Wonderful Life, Scrooged, Elf, Home Alone, Die Hard, A Christmas Story, and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation are a few of my favorites. All are entertaining in their own special ways, but there’s really nothing that compares to a rewatch of Christmas Vacation starring Chevy Chase as the lovably dysfunctional Clark Griswold. I am particularly fond of Clark’s timeless character traits:

· Idealizes the past

· Resistant to Change

· Conflict Avoidant

· Insecure

· Overconfident

· Good intentioned

· Imaginative and playful

· Cracks under pressure

· Great storyteller

· Bad problem solver

· Prone to extreme over reactions

What makes for great comedy with Clark’s character is that he never changes much movie to movie. One can usually count on this same recipe for disaster no matter the context or locales that he finds himself in. You’d think that level of predictability would grow stale over time, but it rarely does. You tune in to a Vacation movie with expectations that dropping Clark in almost every sticky situation will result in gut busting laughter. The more I shake my head at Clark’s incompetence, the more it dawns on me how similar his qualities mirror the institutional Christian Church. Clark’s predictable weaknesses may make for quintessential comedic brilliance but the same predictable weaknesses equal endless frustration in working for the Institutional Christian Church. Simple ideas of improvement or experimentation result in ominous grumbles and avoidance. The past is constantly romanticized. We can tell great stories with imagination and playfulness but only insofar you don’t mess with people’s comfort zones. Maybe it’s just the handful of times people have pointed out how much I look like Randy Quaid, but in this unusual metaphor, it’s Cousin Eddie’s character traits that represent the movers and shakers present in the Institutional Church. They tend to be uniformly:

· Persevering

· Unpredictable

· Unconventional

· Direct

· Bold

· Curious

· Self-Assured

It’s Eddie who senses what Clark wants and needs most, and, while not exactly subtle or sensible, Eddie usually gets things done. It’s Eddie who wakes Clark up to the present moment like no other character can. And it is Eddie, above anyone else, whom Clark detests.

I don’t know what it will take to turn things around for Christ's Church. I don’t have a plan. I don’t even have an exit strategy. And I can’t entirely fault congregations for their lack of engagement. After all, this is the system that was set in motion long before anyone in America knew any better. And it’s not like the Church doesn’t contribute a positive impact—in fact, many of our church communities are the last remaining source of light in an ever-darkening world. Some work extremely hard doing good. But, as Clark’s curmudgeonly father-in-law said of Clark’s work ethic, “so do washing machines.”

My intention is not to resort to either/or thinking as the early church was guilty of. For communities of faith affecting more positive change than negative, I fully endorse in leaving them alone so that they can keep doing what they’re doing. Just as Eddie isn't always predictably stupid nor Clark unpredictably smart, the spiritual are not always religious nor are the religious always spiritual. The truth is that this world is far and away more spiritual than it has ever been before. This is a positive trend. When the religious institution bemoans nonreligious “spiritual” thinking, what that usually means is that their plight to convert and assimilate “the mission field,” feels threatened. The irony is that for most the world, the greatest “mission field” of opportunity for people in need of positive, transformed living, are institutionalized Christians themselves.