-What Does the Church Look Like? - Chris Tibbetts

How did we do?

One of the more lucrative fields yet to really develop from the COVID-19 pandemic will be that of retrospective specialist. Whether in epidemiology, virology, public policy, etc., the divisions we’ve cultivated over the past year and a half or so, should begin to mend to some degree as COVID case counts decline, and as we find points of agreement around the smug critique of all that our leadership and institutions handled poorly. As Americans, we give somewhat tepid receipt to instruction from experts, but the pithy barbs of different experts criticizing the decisions of the original experts, we’ll warmly give 5 hours of our day via any medium we consume. We don’t care that the critiquing expert is giving an opinion behind a desk, speaking with months of data and hindsight and zero people dependent upon his or her viewpoint, while the original expert spoke in the pressure of a moment with limited data and millions of people potentially dependent upon his or her decision. We simply love the retrospective analysis. We love to gently nod our heads along with the critique. We love to sit in haughty derision pondering the ignorance of others.

So how did we do? The church? I expect there will be comparatively less money to be made publishing those retrospectives, although, there will almost certainly be some. How did we do? Repurposing the oft-used query to the local church, if the apostle Paul were to write an epistle to the Church today, what would it say? And would it look different than if it were written in 2019? How did we do? How are we doing? What did the church look like in a crisis?

I have argued elsewhere that in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, the church has looked very similar to what it was before the pandemic, even if we couldn’t perceive it at that time. The pressure testing of the crisis simply manifest what was at the ready before the term “spike protein” entered common vernacular. Therefore, when we ask, how did the church do, we must begin our introspection a bit deeper in our chronology. What did the church look like before the pandemic? Were we conflated in our passions, nurturing our practice of Christian nationalism rather than Christianity? Did we cheerlead the co-mingling of moralism with a pursuit of Christlikeness? Were we consumed with Christ and his glory or were we satisfied with merely giving Him a portion of our hearts? How did we do? Were we consumed with Christ? Above all other contrivances, devotions, and affections. Were we consumed with our Savior?

Unfortunately, you and I, and even some in the world around us, can answer that question with a half-hearted, “sort of.” Thankfully, many in the church were and continue to be consumed with the Lord, but we have also observed behavior in the midst of the pandemic that can be concerning. Behavior that points to pathology that pre-existed COVID’s distillation of it. Pastors and seminary professors, cloaking themselves in Christianese, while making the dominant message of their social media, blogs, and podcasts about whatever narrative they’ve embraced about COVID — often with an unbridled tongue, often seeming to root for further ill upon the “other side.” Church and parachurch ministries losing members and supporters over how they handled mask guidance. Christian parents animating themselves far more passionately against that same mask guidance in their children’s schools than they ever did about myriad preceding issues that directly and aggressively aim to deconstruct their children’s faith. How did the church do under pressure? Did we retaliate more viscerally to the impinging of our freedoms through masks than we do to the nearly continuous impugning of Christ? Unfortunately, I think that, too, can be answered, “sort of.”

I do not intend this to indict the church or its leaders for the necessary and bold response to issues of religious freedom. I do intend this to challenge our hearts against elevating tangential issues — sometimes even important issues — to become the central issues. What did the church look like in the pandemic? It looked a lot like the subclinical disordering of our hearts before it. Does the worship of Christ and the glory of his grace abound? Are we consumed by it? We must be honest with ourselves about our answer.

So what will the church look like as we emerge from this crisis? In many cases, churches have thankfully persisted with only modest adaptation required through the multitude of changes imposed on them by COVID. Indeed, in many cases, the church has thrived. Our local church has grown over 10% in membership since March 2020 and there has been a renewed vigor in our gathering together on the Lord’s Day. Some divisions will likely persist throughout the broader church culture in America, however, even as normalcy returns fully. The mishmash of diverted priorities amongst the body have inflamed separation. The reality we know, even if we choose to ignore it, is that many people now cast a disappointed gaze upon the saint across the sanctuary over the views they unabashedly championed during the pandemic. Many in leadership absorbed intense, often vitriolic critiques of their decision-making. In some cases, those critiques rose to such a level of aggression and petulance, that they will understandably strain relationships even for mature leaders. What will the church look like as we emerge from the crisis? If we prioritize Christ and his worship above all else, then we will look like the church before us that emerged faithfully through the many far greater crises of her past.

Brothers and sisters, we must keep Gospel ministry at our core. We must keep unity in Christ as our center. These must hold pride of place in our hearts above all that would compete for our zeal. The fire in our bones must burn hot for Christ and if we sense a distortion in that affection, then we must be honest and diligent to diagnose and address it. Because the truth is, whether before this pandemic fully subsides or sometime in our future, should something fundamentally change in our world. Should something happen, that even against our best efforts to fight it, greatly curtails our freedoms, fundamentally changes our country, or drastically reshapes some other structure to which we’ve grown to cherish. No matter the change that may come, if you are in Christ, you will not be worried first about your association to masks or vaccines, about your affiliation as Republican, Democrat, or Independent. You will not be worried primarily about any of these secular groupings to which we subscribe. If you are in Christ, you will be called Christian, for now and for all eternity, because that is your identity. Celebrate that end, cherish it, and live in the purpose for which you bear the name of Christ.