How much fun was Jesus?

This past Sunday, one of the fastest growing churches in Lexington had a big festival day on the grounds of their church. They are our neighbors and a few of our church members brought me several of the promotional postcards they had sent to the community. There I first learned of their planned activities including: a petting zoo, hot air balloon rides, fireworks and baptisms. Of course, if you didn’t receive a postcard you might still have noticed the 2006 Pontiac they had suspended on a crane some 30 feet in the air as a door prize for those attending.

Right away, I should say that I don’t question their freedom to reach out. Their strategy has proven highly effective in reaching a younger adult population. In fact, from the little I know, they remind me of a youth group for grown-ups. Which makes me wonder? What explains this new reality on the landscape of American evangelical Protestantism?

I can remember that during the 80’s and most of the 90’s, many large churches were built around “big issues.” “Abortion, homosexuality, Biblical inerrancy, prayer in public schools,” and “taking America back from the secular humanists” dominated the discourse. Those I knew in the Christian community who attended such churches were very certain of the “rightness” of their convictions. They were crusaders in the public square seeking converts to their interpretation of the times.

Now I wonder if the pendulum in American evangelical Protestantism has swung in the opposite direction. After all, these “moral” issues in politics and society were seeking to be remedied by an energized church prior to the 21^st Century. Now (with help from 80’s superstar Cyndi Lauper); “Do Christians JUST want to have fun?” The younger crowd is not interested in being moral crusaders because it means they also have to be smug and superior. They are attracted to a more non-judgmental style that is more open and free.

No doubt, the rationale for this newer approach highlights the unconventional style of Jesus who changed water into wine, was accused of hanging out with the wrong sort; all who drank and ate too much and continually thumbed his nose at social and purity boundaries of first-century Palestine. In contrast to the rigid moralism of his day, Jesus was a “fun guy” indeed.

But we don’t live in a society like the historical Jesus. Instead, we are saturated with a pleasure-dominated culture that thrives on entertainment and selfish interests. I truly wonder (and ask myself as a Christian minister), if Jesus walked the streets of this land would he look more like a prophet or a party animal?

The fine line I am hoping to ride into the new millennium is a sort of confident humility that is willing to be more accessible and approachable while maintaining a strong advocacy for those who are oppressed, marginalized and forgotten. The danger I notice in the evangelical community is how easily it bows down to the powerful. The first surrendering seeks the protection of the establishment and the second “selling the soul” favors our desire to be entertained. Neither appears authentically Christian.

As American Christians, we should be aware of how quickly we can become blinded by our own power. We can assume we are superior and never question our methods. We can be so consumed by our riches and distracted by our selfish pursuits that we never really care. Meanwhile, a world full of war, hunger, AIDS and injustice looks over the waters to the most powerful nation ever known and wonders, “What does it mean that so many of these fellow pilgrims proudly consider themselves Christian?”

I’m not against having fun. I just hope for more. I am certain that Jesus asks far more of me. Maybe some day we can see the church as a fun place to be concerned about someone other than ourselves; where we give away a car to someone who least expects it, but needs it, where we laugh all the way to the bank to withdraw some money for the poor, where we fall down with hilarious fits of pleasure that God could do something really good (and truly world changing) with the likes of us. And who knows? Maybe the “church of the carnival” will arrive there before me. If so, that’s a joke I’ll be sure to share.