The Church of Tomorrow

Admit it. Some of you, when you read that title thought back to the old “home of tomorrow” or “car of the future” campaign ads. You were thinking, “What? A blog about churches with recliners instead of pews? With all stainless steel décor, robots to greet you when you enter, automatic collection plates that take the money right out of your wallet!” But no, that is not at all what I intended. Although, it would be pretty awesome if that church had a convict-o-matic, where the preacher could flip a switch and any member of the congregation he chose would be “aided” down the aisle to pray, led by a combination of spring propulsion and robotic arms a la George Jetson. But I digress.

By “The Church of Tomorrow” I was referring to a phrase that seems to be a favorite of certain church members. Typically it is used by the elderly, often deacons, for whom I have the utmost respect. But it is also common among the middle-aged and young parents. And I believe they are well-intentioned, though misguided.

Here is my problem with the term: we don’t apply it to the right people.

That phrase, as it is used in the typical church, usually is part of an impassioned plea or a rationale for focusing on the youth group. “These young people are the church of tomorrow!” someone will say. “The youth are the church of the future.”

As a youth pastor, I appreciate the sentiment. But there is a flaw with the statement. The youth, if they are Believers, are not the church of the future. They are the church now. The attitude that they are the future church is a part of what contributes to the generation gap in our churches.

At this point it would be possible for the ranting to begin. But there is another point I need to make, a point that is perhaps more important. And that is that there is a church of tomorrow. It consists of the lost.

So, please, stop referring to youth as the church of the future. If they are our future, it looks bleak. I’m not bashing the youth; I’m just saying, statistically 80% will leave church when they graduate high school. Also, Church, you are not having enough kids to propagate a “church of tomorrow” without reaching out to the lost. I’m not saying to forget the youth; please, please don’t. But can we put as much emphasis on reaching the lost? We should, if we are truly concerned about the future of the church; and, more importantly, if we are concerned with Chist.

The Pride of False Humility

Humble. That is one word we would all like to be used in describing us. We want to be thought of as humble people. Here’s the problem: many times in our desire to appear humble we are actually behaving pridefully.

Here’s the scenario. Someone come to you for something. It could be for advice. It could be asking for your help. It could be wanting you to fill a position or a need. In response, we humble admit that we are not smart enough, not talented enough, not gifted enough, or whatever the case may be.

The message we try to convey is this: “No, I’m not good enough. I would mess things up. I totally recognize my inability. I’m trying to be humble here.”

Essentially, what we’re saying though, is this: “I recognize your need, but I don’t want to take the chance of making myself look like a fool. Maybe I would be the best one to meet this need right now, but I don’t feel like trying it. I don’t think I’m good enough. So, I would rather maintain my dignity than do what I can to help someone.”

That is not humility. That is the most conceited action we could take. We are more concerned with our appearances than with doing the work God has prepared for us. It is our pride that tells us we will look like a fool, and so we do nothing.

Listen to what the Bible would say about that. I Corinthians 3:18 says, “Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you seems to be wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise.”

Humility requires willingness to be humiliated. Humility means putting the needs of others above our own need to look good.