Not long ago, I was on a weekend trip with my family and we decided to attend church on Sabbath morning in the area we were visiting. We were in a small community so I expected that the church would be quite small also. That was confirmed when I went to Adventistdirectory.org to find the address for the church. It said that the church had 19 members, and was part of a four-church district. We have loved worshipping in small churches before and really looked forward to worshipping in this one.
On Sabbath morning, we were running a bit late for Sabbath School (which started at 9:30) but I punched the address into my trusty Garmin GPS and made the quick trip to the church. Imagine my surprise when Garmin said that we’d arrive and all I saw was a manufacturing warehouse. I double checked the address. It was right. We continued down the road about half a mile to find a place to turn around, when we saw the sign for the Seventh-day Adventist Church. We found it!
We pulled up in the parking lot, counting five cars in the lot. As we came up to the door of the church, there was a little sign that read, “Church at Study: 10 AM. Church at Worship: 11 AM.” So we weren’t really late after all! I go in the door. It’s a split level entry to the old country church. I meet a lady coming up from downstairs. “Hi,” she says, “we’re visiting today from (a town about 50 miles away).”
“We’re visiting too. From more than 50 miles away.”We talked for a couple of minutes there in the lobby of the church. As I scanned the lobby, I expected a greeter or some other church member to come back and direct us to Sabbath School. I picked up a bulletin from a little table with a big sign in bold capital letters: “CHURCH BULLETINS.” The bulletin said that they meet for church at 11 AM twice a month, and 9 AM twice a month. I had to look at the calendar to see if we were here the right week for the 11 AM service. We were. Thankfully. There were no church members around anywhere, but I heard something faintly through some swinging double doors that I assumed led into the sanctuary.
We opened the door and went in. The sanctuary was completely dark. A large video screen dominated the small sanctuary. On the screen was a woman inviting people to join in the hymn-singing of the Sacramento Central SDA church. There was 3ABN watermark on the lower part of the screen. The directed singing was a nice touch, considering it was such a small congregation. When she sat down, Doug Batchelor stood up to teach the Sabbath School lesson. I expected with nearly a dozen people in the sanctuary now, we might turn off the satellite feed and have a rich Sabbath School discussion. Instead, Pastor Doug taught the Sabbath School lesson while we continued to sit in the dark.
“We’re visiting too. From more than 50 miles away.”We talked for a couple of minutes there in the lobby of the church. As I scanned the lobby, I expected a greeter or some other church member to come back and direct us to Sabbath School. I picked up a bulletin from a little table with a big sign in bold capital letters: “CHURCH BULLETINS.” The bulletin said that they meet for church at 11 AM twice a month, and 9 AM twice a month. I had to look at the calendar to see if we were here the right week for the 11 AM service. We were. Thankfully. There were no church members around anywhere, but I heard something faintly through some swinging double doors that I assumed led into the sanctuary.
We opened the door and went in. The sanctuary was completely dark. A large video screen dominated the small sanctuary. On the screen was a woman inviting people to join in the hymn-singing of the Sacramento Central SDA church. There was 3ABN watermark on the lower part of the screen. The directed singing was a nice touch, considering it was such a small congregation. When she sat down, Doug Batchelor stood up to teach the Sabbath School lesson. I expected with nearly a dozen people in the sanctuary now, we might turn off the satellite feed and have a rich Sabbath School discussion. Instead, Pastor Doug taught the Sabbath School lesson while we continued to sit in the dark.
As Sabbath School drew to a close, the man whom I assumed was the Elder stood up and said, “Now it’s time for a potty break while I switch the DVD’s.” After a few minutes, the Elder gathered everyone up once again and explained that since it was a small church, all they really did was watch DVD’s. They were currently in the middle of a series by Morris and Lee Venden. He had a brief prayer, turned the lights off, and pressed play. Only after church was finished did any of the church members say a single word to me or my family. If I had tried hard enough, I probably could have walked right out the back door without anyone saying a word to me. It was definitely an educational experience.
Just imagine if I had been an un-churched visitor, walking in the door of an Adventist Church for the first time. What if I had been hurting and needed some compassionate human interaction? What if someone else will be there crying out for a connection with God this week?
Here’s the thing: if we want to be a part of dying church, the formula is simple.
- Make sure that the church is almost impossible to find for a first-time visitor.
- Make sure that the actual service times don’t correspond with those that have been published in other places.
- Don’t expect visitors. And be sure not to be prepared to welcome them into church.
- Make sure that there is no human interaction through any part of the morning worship experience.
