Northland

Kailey:

A few observations about Northland…
1. It felt a lot like Summit in the lobby. If Northland were a person, that person would have certainly looked more conservative than Summit, if Summit were also a person—perhaps a slightly older, more dignified Summit, without the nose piercing and a tasteful Coach bag where there was once a Vera Bradley. But I was really happy with that. I think Summit does a great job in the lobby. It’s very welcoming and there’s coffee. Northland had an enormous first impressions crew, and I immediately felt like I was being taken care of. In a church that size, I think the feeling of being “noticed” will exponentially increase the chances of any “first-timer” becoming a second-timer. (Or a once-a-monther, a.k.a, regular attender.)

2. Once we got into the sanctuary, it felt decidedly less like Summit. This kind of surprised me. (Not in a bad way, just in an unexpected way.) I think I expected it to be more like Summit since Northland is Isaac’s dad’s church, and Isaac is the pastor of Summit. We sang a song that we sing over at Summit, and I hardly recognized it. It was sung by a mid-size choir of older ladies, and I’d only previously heard that song sung by early-twenties UCF students, whose voices remind me of Norah Jones. It was delightful. And amusing.

3. We took communion from those little, thimble-like plastic jobbies. I have decided that I will never be a fan of those. I like intinction, messy and unsanitary as it may be, as I think the entire idea of Christ taking on flesh for our sakes is altogether messy and unsanitary anyway. At the same time, I’d hate for the congregants to hesitate (or even have to consciously battle with their hesitation) to take communion because they’re afraid of getting the Swine Flu. I mentally filed this under “Personal Preference About Which One Ought to Suspend Judgment,” and I drank my little thimble shot of grape juice.

4. It was Lent when we attended Northland, and Steve Brown preached. I have yet to hear Pastor Joel preach, so I’d like to go back. I’d also like to attend a Northland service online, with interactive Q and A, and I’d like to attend (per Josh’s suggestion) one of the services they celebrate with multiple congregations around the globe. From what he says, it’s pretty amazing. Upon planning these future forays into the Northland worship community, there was no way to avoid the sheer awe of how many people this church is reaching, both locally and globally.

A note on Steve Brown’s sermon…
Quite possibly my favorite line was this: “I hope you make it 39 days, and then mess up on day 40. Then you’ll remember your need for God.”

Deep voiced genius.


Becka:

An announcement during Northland’s service was the triggering factor for these thoughts; however, I’m mostly just talking in general, not to (or not only to) Northland, in this diatribe.

The week I “officially” visited Northland, their music leader announced his engagement onstage before worship started. I don’t think that was a good idea. Here’s the thing. It’s not that I wasn’t happy for him, and there’s definitely a Biblical imperative to “rejoice with those who rejoice” which certainly took place in the congregation that day – and that was good. I’m not proposing (although it may sound like it) that everyone onstage needs to keep their personal life off of it; as a matter of fact there are times when I think we need more personal honesty onstage – speaking in general here, not about Northland in particular. The thing I did not like about his announcement is that I think this particular kind of communication from onstage (and the “from onstage” bit is also important) promotes what I refer to as “rock star” leadership. What I mean is, especially (or maybe exclusively) in large churches, the pastor and other visible leaders often become like rock stars to their congregations: people walk through the lobby before or after a service hoping to make eye contact with their idols. They brag about the fact that the pastor knows their name or will take their calls. I don’t know of anyone who’s asked his or her pastor for an autograph, but honestly I wouldn’t be surprised. People emulate their leadership… but without thinking. They respect their leadership… but often blindly. They forget their church stars are human also. Following someone who’s been a Christian longer than you is good; and every leader of a large church whom I know personally (including those at Northland) I also know is worthy of being emulated… just not blindly.

There are a couple of reasons for this. First, it’s harmful to the congregation. Leaders are going to make mistakes, even SIN (can you imagine?). Both the congregation and its leadership have a responsibility to their church, and both need to look out for each other. The congregation is not living up to its responsibility when it sees its leadership as rock stars who can do no wrong. Sometimes the leaders are going to make mistakes. As a member of a congregation, you may not always know when they’re making a mistake, but you’re much more likely to identify it if you are testing their words and actions by your understanding of scripture. And taking the active responsibility to think about the implications of what your church is doing and becoming as you all strive to follow Jesus together will be integral to your own personal faith. If you don’t think and act, you’re not going to grow in Christ and church will become for you mere entertainment – not what it should be as a community of a living, moving, entire body of believers in which all parts are vitally important.

Then, being rock stars is also harmful to the leadership itself. It is so hard not to become arrogant if people worship you (whether you want that adulation or not). And when the congregation tacitly tells rock star leaders that they are the most important people in the room, it is very hard for those leaders not in some way to believe it. And act like it. Goodness knows it’s hard enough (read: impossible) for those of us who are not rock stars not to be arrogant or self-centered even without the approval of a church full of people.

So – back to the specific issue. Why am I making a big, probably unnecessary deal about a small bit of personal information that may even have the beneficial effect of helping a large congregation feel like family? Because I think the danger outweighs the benefit. Ninety eight percent of the church family does not get their engagements noted onstage, so there’s no reciprocity of information exchange. Additionally, the person speaking is on stage, and therefore visually and culturally the most important person in the room. So what happens is that personal information delivered from the stage becomes not so much conversation as the kind of updates about movie (and rock) stars you find in People magazine. In other words, it contributes to the distance between the people onstage and the rest of the congregation, and that distance only reinforces the “rock-star” problem that is hard to get away from in large churches where there are just too many people for them all to personally have a close relationship with the leadership.

That being said, Northland, you’re good people. I respect the way your leaders try to be intentional about following God in every decision, even if I’m not going to think every decision is right. Thanks for being 10,000 more people following Christ and making his kingdom known.