U2 Fandom

U2 played a concert in Nashville on Saturday night. I was tired of hearing about it before the concert even occurred. Now, a week has gone by, and people still won't stop talking about it. Folks are still posting pictures, talking about the blind guy who played with the band at the end, and generally gushing. One friend remarked on Facebook that she had actually made eye contact with members of the band. Be still, my beating heart.

I find all of this very annoying, and not because I don't like U2. I think "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" and "Pride" are profoundly good songs. And I appreciate Bono lending his voice to the struggle against poverty in Africa. But come on. They're a rock band, and not a particularly talented one. Many of their songs sound an awful lot alike. None of the musicians ever do anything all that impressive. They are heavily dependent on electronic effects. I suspect we will never hear a stripped-down U2, but if we did, I don't think it would be much to listen to.

But more than just annoying, I find this near-worship of U2 pretty troubling, and it's because of the language people use to describe them and their concerts. People talk about U2 using theologically-loaded words, such as grace. I heard a young man refer to the concert by saying something to the effect that it's not just one moment, it's a thousand moments, and the band is inviting the audience to catch a glimpse of God's kingdom, of what God is doing in the world.

Just to be clear, I'm not really picking on U2. I would be equally uncomfortable applying kingdom of God language to any other human institution, regardless of whether we were discussing Ford Motor Company, my alma mater Lipscomb University, the San Diego Chargers, the Tennessee Supreme Court, CNN, or even the Methodist Church. I contend that we must be careful when we talk in such ways about human institutions, particularly in this case when we are describing a highly successful, flashy, indulgent arena rock band.

On a certain level, some of the things that have been said are true, of course. Many of the lyrics to U2's songs are inspiring. That's one of the functions of good music. It should wake people up a bit. We need to be mindful of the future, to hope for a better day of peace and unity and love. And I am convinced that part of God's dream for the world involves Africans being lifted out of poverty. But I wonder whether some fans of the band are employing such language without practicing any kind of discernment whatsoever. There are, in fact, aspects of the U2 experience that I would argue are very much not in line with the work of God in the world.

For example, I learned from friends who attended the concert that everyone in attendance looked pretty much the same: upper middle-class white people that were middle-aged and younger. One friend reported seeing not one African-American in a crowd of 50,000. Such homogeneity is alarming at a U2 concert, where Bono dreams of all people being One, and where the plight of Africans is so often referred to. And it is frankly difficult for me to stomach a lecture about poverty from a multi-millionaire rock star who is standing on a $25 million stage. It's like eating steak at a fundraising dinner for starving children. Such over-the-top self-indulgence seems very much in opposition to the kingdom of God. After all, how many children could have been fed with the money that was spent on the stage alone? How much gasoline is used by the 120 trucks required to carry the three concert sets to different venues? A little introspection never hurt anybody.

Perhaps most importantly, I am reluctant to use divine language to describe a U2 concert experience because attending a concert is too damn easy. It requires almost nothing of those in attendance. The concert-goers may have felt hip and socially-conscious, but they were obligated to do nothing more than enjoy the show. I could have gone to the concert, listened to the sounds, felt goosebumps from the lyrics or the music or a combination of the two, and then left to return to my life, otherwise undisturbed.

That is not how God's kingdom works. Such a musical proclamation is not tantamount to the gospel because it is not incarnational. Sure, it is possible that a concert attendee will, as a result of what she heard, change her lifestyle in order to give to the poor, visit the imprisoned, etc. But the gospel does not just leave open the possibility. The gospel is not a mere suggestion. It is a demand. It requires the bearing of a cross, not merely the signing of the ONE petition. And upon hearing the gospel, many rich young white people will likely walk away sad because they will not give up on their materialistic dreams of great comfort, or perhaps, if they are especially lucky, even the kind of luxury that characterizes the daily existence of the members of U2. In contrast to the sadness of the rich young ruler, who had been confronted with the cost of participating in the kingdom announced by Jesus, many of the concert-goers left very happy, singing tunes like "All I Want Is You," because nothing was demanded of them except for the money they paid for their tickets.

What You Win Them With Is What You Win Them To

The phrase that serves as the title for the post was coined by Randy Harris. He was explaining that there are "cruise ship churches" and "battleship churches." A cruise ship church's top priority is the satisfaction of the members. Therefore, the emphasis is on programs and activities that benefit and entertain the members, who are not unlike customers in the business that is institutional religion. I suspect most megachurches, with their seemingly endless self-focesed ministries, events, camps, cookouts, worship services, building programs, etc., fall into this category. A battleship church, on the other hand, focuses on what is happening outside its walls, on serving people that do not attend its services. In my experience, these are few and far between. These churches exist for the sake of the world, not for the entertainment and convenience of their own members. The priority then is not on keeping the members of the congregation satisfied, but on equipping them as disciples of Jesus to go do what Jesus commanded us to do, which is love, forgive, expose injustice, suffer alongside those who suffer, visit prisoners, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the sick and dying, and show hospitality to everyone that the religious establishment would label unworthy, immoral, or sinner.

I suspect a quick review of any church's budget will give you a good idea of what kind of church it is. And Randy Harris contends that it is virtually impossible to convert a cruise ship church into a battleship church, so do not bother trying. Having attended what I consider to be a cruise ship church for about nine years now, Randy's word of pessimism strikes me as very bad news because I would love to see my church become a battleship church where members are trained and expected and led to go into the dark places of the world and proclaim good news to the poor, release to the imprisoned, etc. But Randy says it's all but impossible to change.

The reason that a cruise ship church cannot be converted into a battleship church may be summed up with a simple, memorable phrase: "What you win them with is what you win them to." Therefore, if what attracts people to the church is its upbeat, entertaining worship services, or its fun-filled activity-a-week youth ministry, then the people will not be willing to do anything more than consume the services offered by the church. You can't attract people with good music and then expect them to sign up for difficult ministries. All they'll be willing to do is enjoy the music because that's why they showed up in the first place.

The problem here is that if you win people with entertaining worship, the novelty of that wears off pretty quick, and the members will be tempted to look elsewhere for an even more entertaining worship experience, which in my opinion is why so many folks have left the confines of denominational churches for the more free worship experiences offered by nondenominational churches. And if that's why people are leaving one church for another, you can't expect them to do any real work.

The solution? Randy Harris says you need to plant new churches that from their genesis have a battleship mentality. I am convinced that such churches will look nothing like traditional congregations in several respects, but one springs immediately to mind. There will be no building. As soon as a church invests in a building, it is responsible for something that must be paid for, cared for, and preserved. Much of the congregation's energy is directed toward its property. Plus, all of the sudden there are serious bills to pay. The church needs members to give money to pay those bills. Therefore, nothing should be done or said at the church that might lead to anyone leaving the pews and taking their money elsewhere. It becomes very important for everyone to feel comfortable. A church that meets in a building sacrifices a great deal of freedom. Thus, as soon as a battleship church gets into the building business, it has already taken a significant step toward being a cruise ship church.

So where will the church members gather? Apartments, bars, under bridges, and my personal favorite, in prisons. Churches that meet in such places retain a great deal of freedom to be what God calls them to be at any given moment. The church can boldly speak truth without worrying that people may get offended and leave. There may be 15 people or 150 present. The church is not dependent on filling pews. The church is free to exist for the good of the world, without worrying about perpetuating the life of the institution. It seems to me that this is church as it was intended to be.