Shopping for churches as we do cornflakes

By DR. MARK ROSS/Columnist

I never knew the old fellow. He died before I came to Marion, maybe even before I came to be. He was not a member of my family, but my wife’s family. Still, I feel a kinship with him and an admiration for him. I have seen his fuzzy photograph. Most photographs were fuzzy in the ‘50s. Still, in this photo he looks kind and gentle, the quintessential grandfather. My wife says she remembers him walking to church, slowly, methodically with great dignity and intention. He was always there and never late. No one knew why he came.
He was deaf. For all practical purposes, the old man no longer could hear a sermon. Occasionally, he would pick out a low note or a high note from the choir, but never a melody. The organ would resonate in him, but the tune was lost to him.
Great age had left him unsure on his feet. On the rare occasions when the church called upon him to distribute the communion, he did so tottering from pew to pew barely balancing the bread and the cup while his family held their breath. No one knew why he came.
I wonder myself. If I could not hear the message, why would I want to watch the preacher? If I could not listen to the choir, would I get a thing out of reading 34 sets of lips? People would say, “Good morning,” but I would never know it. A whispered prayer from the pulpit would be silence to me. Why would I bother to come to church if I could not get anything from the service?
The news of the day comes as no surprise. Americans are church swappers and shoppers. As a mobile, fluid society, we approach religion with the same consumer attitude that we do cornflakes. “Who has the biggest flakes?” “Where are the most bangs for the buck?” Denominational loyalties and childhood churches have little retention ability. If the grass is greener over the fence, we take our Bibles and head south. The key question seems to be, “What is in it for me, or what can I get out of it?”
I wonder what the old man would say or do today. Would he seek out a church with services for the deaf, so he could, “Get something out of the service?” Would he just stay home believing his attendance was just a waste of time? What would the old man do or say?
Certainly, he would raise a painful issue. I can imagine him saying, “I come to church not for what I can get, but what I can give.” Still, what he gave may not seem like much. He would painstakingly count the offering until he accounted for every cent, placing every penny in its place. Certainly, others could have counted faster. Communion would have gone smoother in stable hands and on sure feet. Still, tilting and tottering he was always there. It was not what he got or did not get, but what he gave.
I heard that once someone actually asked the old fellow, “If you cannot hear the service, why do you come to the service?”
He answered, “I come to church so everyone will know what side I am on.” This is another way of saying, “To be counted.”
Yet, these days it is hard “to be counted” when one is swapping and shopping churches. “Who has the biggest flakes and the most bangs for the buck?” In fact, with all of that moving around, it is hard to tell what side a person is on.

Dr. Mark Ross is pastor of Marion Baptist Church.