A few years back I became acquainted with the phrase “Jesus Riding a Dinosaur.” It’s a meme that’s been around for quite awhile, so you can Google that (if you dare). The basic thought behind the saying is that Christians are idiots. More specifically, they are backward, ignorant, uneducated, and generally incapable of intelligent thought. The phrase itself is the result of a logical progression of thought topped with an absurdity stated for emphasis: Some Creationists have attempted to reconcile paleontology and the Bible by theorizing that humans and dinosaurs may have coexisted on the planet at some point in the past (as opposed to most paleontologists, who hold the exact opposite hypothesis). This is seen as an idea so bereft of any basis in rationality that it deserves mockery. The result is the conflation of that theory with the life of the Savior as a blasphemous taunt: “Jesus Riding a Dinosaur” t-shirts, mugs, and so on. I was introduced to the phrase by a co-worker, talking about how dangerously stupid religious people in general are: “They’re the kind of people who think Jesus rode a dinosaur.”
And that’s how easily a lot of people in America write off faith. The reality of the Twitter Generation is that complex conversations about difficult subjects don’t happen as much anymore. We have an arsenal of 140 character witticisms with which we can easily dismiss anything we can’t quite grok. I’ve heard a lot of them in the last seven years due to a flip-flop I’ve made – from full-time pastor to full time software developer / volunteer pastor (but still full-time Jesus follower). Easy brush-offs like “the Bible was put together by Constantine”, “The church is full of hypocrites”, “Christians hate gay people”, and “have you seen ‘Jesus Camp’? ‘Nuff said.”
Most of these quips are not fair, and not even close to true (it may be controversial, but I, for one, do not believe Jesus rode a dinosaur). But they do serve as convenient conversation killers. Want to bring up faith in Jesus? I will shut you down with my quick wit. As I’ve run into this dismissive attitude toward faith over and over (especially here in Seattle), it’s lead me to a disturbing realization:
Most American churches may not have the slightest clue how to actually reach their culture. It’s hard to hear, but let it sink in, because it really may be true: No matter what events you put on, how well you advertise, how beautiful your buildings and brochures are, or what you give away in your visitor packets, the people you are trying to reach are not coming to your church unless they become followers of Jesus first.
I know that’s confusing. I mean, how could anyone become a follower of Jesus without first attending a church? How would they know how to say the Sinner’s Prayer (you know – the prayer the Disciples prayed). That’s a little tongue-in-cheek, but sometimes I think we’ve created a hermeneutic that stipulates the first act of a seeker must be darkening the doors of a local congregation. Maybe I think that because so many churches spend so much time, energy and money on invites, promotions, parties, and events that are focused on gathering in first-time visitors.
Let me give a subjective, anecdotal analysis. I’ve been immersed in a segment of the culture we are trying to reach for seven years and counting. I am convinced that many of the people churches are trying to coax into a worship service are not just ignoring the invitation – they are downright hostile to it. They wouldn’t “check out” a Sunday morning worship service, any more than I would stroll into a seance, no matter how casual your dress code is or what kind of coffee you serve. If your church’s first time visitor gift were an Escalade with diamond studded rims, they’d pass. They don’t trust churches or pastors or Christians any more than they trust used car salesmen or televangelists. They aren’t harboring a secret sense that maybe they need to turn their life over to God – they’re quite sure there is no such thing as God, and considering whether or not he exists would be as idiotic as a 40 year old who believes in Santa or the Easter Bunny.  They’re not “seekers”. They’re the opposite.
It’s a bleak picture I’m painting. I believe it’s the truth, but I don’t believe it’s the whole story. As I write this, I am reminded of Romans 10 (quoted here from The Message):
14-17 But how can people call for help if they don’t know who to trust? And how can they know who to trust if they haven’t heard of the One who can be trusted? And how can they hear if nobody tells them? And how is anyone going to tell them, unless someone is sent to do it? That’s why Scripture exclaims,
A sight to take your breath away!
Grand processions of people
telling all the good things of God!But not everybody is ready for this, ready to see and hear and act. Isaiah asked what we all ask at one time or another: “Does anyone care, God? Is anyone listening and believing a word of it?†The point is: Before you trust, you have to listen. But unless Christ’s Word is preached, there’s nothing to listen to.
Have you ever wondered why Jesus started out as a baby? God was entirely capable of creating a fully-formed, mature body for him to inhabit. He could have descended from heaven in the same way he ascended back to it. But He was born. He was helpless. He chose to be weak, to experience the world He made exactly as we do – from the cradle to the grave. He did all this because it was the only way we would see who He really was. Scripture says that while we were still his enemies, He died for us.
He came to us because we wouldn’t come to Him.
In theology, we call this “incarnation.” He came to show us that we had been sold a lie – God was not at all like we imagined him. He did not fit our stereotypes, catchphrases, or religious systems. He walked among us so we could touch him, hear him, see him, argue with him, spit on him, tear his flesh, pierce his hands, stab his side. In simple stories he told us about his true nature – that he is the loving father who races to embrace the prodigal; the founder of the feast who welcomes in the poor and the homeless; the good shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep.
This all boils down to an inescapable conclusion, a simple truth that is becoming the guiding principle of my life and ministry:
The people who aren’t coming to your church aren’t going to consider the message of Jesus until they come face to face with a real live, honest to goodness Christian. So we must go to them.
Even the most skeptical scoffer can come to respect true acts of righteousness like visiting the fatherless and the widow, giving to the poor, and practicing kindness. Even a hater can recognize integrity, honesty, humility, and hope. It is powerfully effective to confront prejudice and misinformation with truth. We treat life, death, money, sex, power, fame, and stuff very differently, and that must be seen to be believed.
It’s time we retool our churches to fulfill their original charter – our gatherings are not just a place to invite people to, they are to be training centers, from which we are sent out to our homes, our schools, our places of business. Sent to be the physical incarnation of Christ in the world – the living representation of the life-giving power in his words and work.
We are surrounded by so many Jesus wants to call home. They’re not coming to your church, but you will see them at your kids swim meet, at your work meeting, sitting next to you on the bus. They’ve never heard of your pastor (even if he’s famous in Christian circles), unless he’s done something to make the local or national news in a bad way. They don’t care how big your church is or that you have a Starbucks in the lobby. They don’t think your worship band is hip. And unless your life and testimony prove otherwise, none of that will ever change. If “the people who aren’t coming to your church” are reached, it will be by the “preaching” of a co-worker, fellow soccer mom, friend, neighbor.
My task as a pastor, then, is not to reach the city with my well-honed Sunday Sermons and globally available podcast, but to build up, equip, and prepare the church for the act of incarnation, scattering to every place where the lost live and work and play, where they will contradict the lies and correct the preconceptions. No, we don’t believe Jesus rode a dinosaur. But we do believe a lot of other wild and crazy things. Let me tell you more…
