I have to admit as the big screen started to roll down from the rafters after some live worship music, I thought I wasn’t going to like this video sermon thing.  And in the beginning, it was a little distracting despite the fact that my pastor was shot in a way that made it look like he was right up there, walking around on stage.

As the sermon went on, I realized I sort of forgot about the fact that I was watching video.  I found myself interacting with the questions he’d ask and laughing at his jokes.  I didn’t mind it.

But there were plenty of people who didn’t like it, I heard stories of people walking out of the service and yelling at other church leaders about how our church was going downhill fast.  It’s a sad, but expected response in any church.  Some people will resist any kind of change.  Others aren’t comfortable when a church is growing and reaching out to more people.

Since Sunday, I’ve been pondering how this sort of video technology will change worship.  In this case, it’s something I’m willing to support as a church goer knowing that it’s letting my church extend its reach to more people.  That is the calling of the church.  But I wonder if video casting sermons is a gateway to bigger issues.

I read an article on Church Crunch pondering what a video on demand world means for the future of worship.  What does on demand worship look like?  Plenty of churches have entered the live streaming realm creating online campuses.  Others make all of their past sermons available 24/7.   A few, like LifeChurch.tv, schedule live online worship lots of times throughout the week.

But what’s the next step?  Would video technology let churches offer services throughout the week reaching more people who can’t make it to traditional church service times?  Does it dilute the need to actually attend a service at church – if you watch it on a screen in the building, why not do it from home?  Will it truly be a way to expand ministry or will it just end up being a fad?  Will the want for corporate worship with live people, even if the sermon is on video, keep people coming through church doors?  Or will people find going to church online at the same time as hundreds of other people just as good?

What do you think?

WARNING: SPOILERS Do not read this if you haven’t seen the Lost Finale.

Until the final scenes in a Los Angeles church, I was completely in love with the Lost series finale. And then Christian Shephard spoke.

I have always viewed Lost as a network TV equivalent to metaphoric literature—a great fable or legend epitomizing or explaining the human journey—similar to Pilgrim’s Progress or something C.S. Lewis or G.K Chesteron would write. However, as I sit here the day after the full story has been revealed, I regret that Lost did not end up having one specific trait in common with the works of Flannery O’Connor, Lewis and Chesteron: a clear and definite belief system behind the story.

Instead, the resolution provided by Christian Shephard for the show’s “sideways world”  hit the easy button. As the writers took the show into the afterlife, it seems they opted for a safe, politically-correct explanation—exemplified by the church’s stain glass window featuring symbols of all the major religions. I didn’t need the show to be an allegory or defense for Christian beliefs. I merely wish the show would have picked a lane: to clearly have a defined truth behind the story and not a vague fluffy answer to suit our “everyone has their own truth” society. What we were left with feels like a C.S Lewis fantasy for our post-modern, tolerant, mushy-truth generation. It seemed to all just come down to “love.”

A case could be made post-finale that underlying Lost was a humanistic and even cynical metaphor for religion and how we view the mystic. Here on this wondrous island full of seemingly spiritual or magic powers, humans (from the Man in Black’s human counterparts to Dharma) sought to understand this place—and came away with very little other than their own endeavors. And in these last several episodes, the mysticism and magic seems to have been drained. For instance, those in authority knew no better and were no less flawed than those hoping for meaning. In addition, last night’s transition of power to a new island protector lacked any supernatural ritual as if to say there was nothing larger at work here. Nothing mystic. No mystery and wonder. Just being sworn into office. And as island citizens struggled for meaning about their lives and to figure out redemption, it became clear that this was a humanistic endeavor that began with humans and ended with humans. Their life, death, salvation and destination depended on them.

But yet, while my head struggled with the resolution, my heart was completely emotionally fulfilled. Logically and intellectually, it didn’t suit me. But emotionally, it did. The on-island story was handled powerfully and fittingly to show a community working out their lives together with sacrifice, encouragement, forgiveness, care and burden-carrying. And that is the one clear Lost message I am choosing to latch onto: We need each other. Live together, die alone.

Because Lost is so open for interpretation, I want to hear what other Christ-followers took out of it. On the TC Facebook page, we’ve had some great comments like these:

“I certainly don’t think you can put a nice clean Christian or Bhuddist or any other religious tag on the show. In the end, the show seemed to place more ‘belief’ in relationships than any specific dogma.” –Mike

“I loved it [but] I don’t totally ‘get it’ all yet. I think Jack making the decision to detonate the bomb last season was his ‘act of faith’ so it is fitting that that is what essentially created this community. Basically I think it affirmed the power of community—something that not only gets us through the most difficult times and allows us to work out our issues but it lasts beyond this life.” –Laura

“I feel like the writers took the easy way out. Rather than giving us a solid worldview, they just went with the PC ‘it is what you make of it’ view.” –Katherine

So, what did you think?

One of the big debates among the audience this season has been about the nature of two mysterious characters. Is one good and one evil? Are they both evil? Is their conflict really an allusion to God and Satan?

I’ve been adamant that one character represented good and the other, evil. I’ve seen it as a clear example of Joseph Campbell’s archetypes of classic good vs. evil mythology. My belief was rooted in looking at each person’s method of operation compared to similar traits associated with God and Satan. One character trades in mercy, free choice, provision and compassionate guidance. The other? Lies, deception and manipulation.

While the “bad guy” was tricking people to do what he wanted for his own good, I saw the “good guy” guiding them—providing a path for them to walk, nudging them in the right direction.

But then my friend Mike got me thinking. He likes to play devil’s advocate in debates and here challenged me to see it from a different angle. He asked: Didn’t both characters actually work in manipulation? Didn’t the guy I thought was good also lead people to be exactly where he wanted them to be to do exactly what he wanted them to do?

Frankly, this rocked me a little. As Christians, we often talk about how God directs our steps, provides a path, plans our future, leads us in his way. We talk about how God provides for us, speaks to us, nudges us. And for the first time in my life I realized how this could sound like manipulation.

So what’s the difference? If both God and Satan are both working behind the scenes—like these Lost characters—to line us up in certain positions, what makes it different?

Why is God leading us down a path any different from Satan leading us down a path? Is the difference between manipulation and sovereign provision simply a matter of motivation: Satan’s self interest and rebellion vs. God’s love for his creation? Or does the difference lie in the methods by which we’re pushed—Satan’s use of guilt and temptation vs. God’s call of self-denial, eternal love and speaking hope in the darkness?

And lastly, I wonder: How do we communicate this? How does the church best communicate God’s leading and our surrender to his perfect will in a way that does not sound like we’re being manipulated like pieces in a game?

I am completely irritated by this commercial. I mean, I understand not everyone is a morning person. And I know this is a commercial—it’s gonna exaggerate the consumer’s need for a product. But still, I just cannot stand watching even 30 seconds of this sulky jerk starting his day by telling people, “Don’t even talk to me until I’ve had my coffee.” Well, that’s if he even talks to them. One poor friendly lady merely gets a dismissive wave.

But I’ve also discovered a deeper reason for discomfort here: This silly commercial hits on an uncomfortable truth. And it has nothing to do with coffee. At the core, what this guy is doing is making an excuse for his rude, unloving behavior to friends and strangers. He’s rationalizing treating people how ever he wants. It’s not a  lack of coffee that is his problem—it’s that he doesn’t feel like making the effort. He chooses not to overcome his circumstances to show common courtesy.

And I do the same. All the time. How often do I let my circumstances dictate how I treat others? I might think, “I would go talk to that lonely person or show God’s love through a nice gesture…but man, I am so stressed out.” Or too tired. Or too sad. Or hungry. Or busy. Or just about anything else. The hard truth: When God instructs us to love others,  extend compassion and show kindness, he didn’t say anything about whether or not we felt like it.

What do you think? Does the commercial bug you? Have you seen yourself fall in this trap? What rationalizations do you tend to fall back on to excuse how you treat others? How can we best avoid giving in when we don’t feel like being loving?

Anyway…I came across this video featuring Chad Hedrick. He’s a USA speed skater who won the bronze in the 1000m race in Vancouver (to add to his gold, silver and bronze from Torino in 2006).

In the video, he talks about his faith as an athlete and how it can be perceived by others.  He says:

I have guys from the media talking to me all the time and I tell them I want to have a great time, make special memories with my family, and if I go there and give 100 percent and it’s not enough, I know God has a path for me, and that‘s the path that I’m going to follow. They interpret that as: I’m soft, I’ve lost my competitive edge, I’m not very confident. But they really don’t understand; and I’m hoping throughout the Olympics and Vancouver that they see that I am still very competitive, and that you can be a Christian and still be a competitive person.

How about you?  Can it be tough to balance being a Christian and being competitive?  Does knowing if an athlete is Christian change to way you root for them in an event?

(This video came from the website Beyond the Ultimate which has a list of Christian Olympians and features their stories.)

Leading up to this year’s Super Bowl, there was some controversy about a pro-life ad from Focus on the Family.  The commercial featured Heisman Trophy Winner Tim Tebow and his mom Pam, who  talked about her decision not to have an abortion (without actually saying the word abortion).   Pro-choice groups criticized CBS for accepting the ad, which was the first “political” ad the network ever approved for the big game.

So what did you think?  Was the ad effective?  Did it live up to the hype?

(Reminder: Quick Thought comments should be short.  Maybe a few sentences but no more than 100 words or so.)

Last week, I watched every episode of Conan O’Brien’s The Tonight Show, all of David Letterman’s monologues, two full episodes of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, and various viral bits from other shows. But the thing is: I never watch late night talk shows except for bits I find online. So why did I watch? Why was I drawn into all the drama of the NBC late night debacle?

I’ve been trying to answer that for myself.  I read an entry on NPR’s Monkey See blog where writer Linda Holmes put the matter well: “These are late-night shows that most people don’t watch; it’s the difference between two relatively similar hosts doing relatively similar things, neither of whom has been setting the world on fire lately, so … who cares?”

Great question. Reading through the possible draws that Holmes identified (we all relate to inner-office tensions, we love a common villain, etc.), I found that none of them really seemed to be what truly resonated with me. And it took me until this morning to put my finger on why I cared. Without being too dramatic, I think it boiled down to my innate desire for justice. Someone was being wronged, an underdog was fighting for his life, and I wanted the wrongs righted. I wanted to see “good” prevail. Could this red-haired David take on the Goliath network oppressing him?

Of course, there are greater injustices in the world (and in our neighborhoods). However, this was a pursuit for justice, a quest for fair judgment that was safe and far less uncomfortable than watching news footage from Haiti or fighting modern slavery. Just like why I love underdog sports movies and action movies, I want justice done, I want the little guy to win and I long for justice—but self-tellingly in a safe, tidy way.

How about you? Did you get sucked into NBC’s late-night skirmish? If so, what drew you in?

A while back, I read about an interesting experiment on PhilCooke.com.

Worried about the real motivation of TV evangelists, Mary Hutchinson, a veteran in direct mail and fundraising, tested several TV ministries by sending them $20 and a letter asking how to accept Christ.

“After 45 days, I had heard from more than 95% of them,” she wrote to Cooke. “But sadly, less than 25% addressed my question about salvation in a direct, easy to understand manner. If we are really about evangelism, how could this be?”

Reading about Hutchinson’s experiment reminded me of my own exercise this fall: watching 3 hours of primetime programming a night on Trinity Broadcasting Network for a full week. I wanted to get a first-person understanding of what TBN’s all about. Like Hutchinson, I certainly witnessed that money is indeed important to the several TV evangelists who’d supplement their televised sermons with hard sales pitches for their books, CDs, or DVDs. Hey, I understand needing to raise funds and wanting to get your message out, but these sales pitches were often just the tip of the iceberg when it came to mixing money and ministry.

While I’ve long heard claims of prosperity gospel teaching on TBN, I saw it confirmed in my week of watching. Many pastors paying to air their programs on TBN taught that God provides blessings—in the form of material and money—to those he favors.

One pastor on Benny Hinn’s program suggested I’d get a special “financial anointing” if I bought a specific Bible he’d printed. Joel Osteen disputed claims that he’s a prosperity minister—but declared he also isn’t a “poverty minister.” (I think Paul was one of those. And Jesus, too.) Other shows, like Creating Your World with Dr. Mark Chironna, weren’t clearly about seeking riches, but instead focused on using faith to be successful—sort of a Bible-based motivational self-help speech.

What I found most troubling was the message that God would look more favorably on me—and maybe love me more?—if I did certain things. On an episode of Behind the Scenes, TBN co-founder Paul Crouch led a study of John 15:1-10. He said that unanswered prayers are a result of not bearing fruit for the Lord. “I have an easy way for you to be a fruit bearer,” he said. “Pick up your phone” and give to TBN. His wife, Jan, added that God “will meet every need you have.” In other words: God is not answering your prayers because you need to do something. And that something is donating to TBN.

I heard this message at the wrong time. During my week of TBN watching, I was coincidentally going through a tough time of personal loss—a time where it was clear that weeks of desperate prayers had not been answered the way I wanted. And so, hearing it suggested that my prayers would be answered if I’d only given money to TBN, or done anything, burnt deep. My prayers go unanswered because I haven’t done enough for God? God will not bless me if I don’t pray enough, give enough or do enough?

That’s not the God I know. In fact, doesn’t this sound a lot like the argument that suffering and blessing fall differently on the righteous and unrighteous made by Job’s misguided friends?

One of the tough parts of my TBN watching was knowing what to believe out of the mouths of these fellow Christians. I was getting a lot of information and interpretation, but could I trust the source?  After all, when a host equates her excitement for the second coming with her excitement for DVD she was selling, I can’t help but question authenticity and sincerity. And so, I forced myself to “test everything” (1 Thess. 5:21) as I watched. I worry some TBN viewers are not as discerning.

I am happy to report, though, that my fifteen hour TBN experiment ended on a good note. On an episode of Praise the Lord, Paul Jr. started the show by saying, self-knowingly, “Tonight, I’m not offering any CDs or DVDs, but just talking about a man, Christ Jesus.”

Before one fateful week this fall, I’d never watched a minute of the Trinity Broadcasting Network (TBN). All I knew was what I’d read, heard or glimpsed while channel surfing—headlines about mixing money and ministry, a reputation for being cheesy, a talk-show set with golden thrones, and some woman with big pink hair.

I was intrigued by the network, though, when I read that according to Nielsen ratings, TBN is the most watched religious channel in the U.S. (it also reaches 74 other nations). The 36-year-old ministry claims to serve an average of five million households every week during prime time. Well, make that five million and one, at least for one November week when challenged myself with a Julie/Julia-type experiment to watch three full hours of primetime TBN programming for 5 straight nights.

A snapshot of my week: I laughed aloud at something cheesy and unintentionally funny 10 minutes into my first hour of watching. On night two, I spotted the pink hair. By night three my wife decided I was officially crazy because I wasn’t giving up this experiment. She’d often walk by me on the couch and shake her head. On night four, I paused the DVR to run upstairs. When I came down, my wife was watching TBN on her own—and without being forced by any silly dedication to an experiment.

Yes, I was happy my week of forced viewing was over when I completed those 15 hours on Friday night. I’d seen some cheesy stuff. I’d listened to pastors who certainly mixed money and ministry.  But I’ll admit that I was pleasantly surprised by some programs. I liked Precious Memories with Bill Gaither (Tuesdays, 9:30/8:30c), which aired a Johnny Cash documentary, and Kingdom Connection (Mondays, 9/8c), featuring sermons of Jentezen Franklin, a talented storyteller. I enjoyed Ancient Secrets of the Bible (Wednesdays, 9/8c)—specifically, an episode about the alleged 1917 Virgin Mary appearances in Fatima.

It became clear very early on to me that while most of TBN primetime is pay-to-play, the network’s two self-produced shows, Behind the Scenes and Praise the Lord, showcase what can work best on TBN. Praise the Lord, a variety program of music and interviews, featured thoughtful guests with admirable stories and Behind the Scenes gives viewers a background look at the network with interviews of those involved.

What these two shows had in common was simply telling the stories of God’s people. On Behind the Scenes, Paul Crouch, Jr. (subbing for his father), conducted two inspiring interviews: One with an 82-year-old woman who parachuted out of a plane to raise awareness (and money) for a TBN affiliate, the other with a former Muslim (now Christian) who discussed evangelism in an intelligent, respectful way. Moments like this are the true heart of TBN—a passion to share Christ with the world.

Do you watch TBN? Why or why not? What shows do you like? What have you found there that troubles you or supports your faith?