Fame, it has been said, is a narcotic. Celebrity creates power and that power can be used for good or not so good. Too often in the mega movement of Christendom we have seen superstardom overtake and corrupt pure Christian spirituality. Is this perhaps why Jesus worked so hard to intentionally reject superstardom and instead seek obscurity? Is obscurity a spiritual discipline? Ought it to be? I wonder if being small and invisible will be the new sexy of the 21st century Western church?
I asked Ken (of
HOMEpdx celebrity) what his thoughts were about the celebrity thing that happens in Christianity. His answer surprised me.
“If you’re given the celebrity card, use it for good. Everyone is a celebrity to someone. Use that celebrity to help others. When I go downtown and Frank sees me and he wants to show me his latest drawing, I make sure I have time to see his new drawing. I’m a celebrity to Frank. On the streets, he’s a nobody. When I pay attention to him it helps him feel better about who he is. That’s using celebrity for good. Everybody is a celebrity to somebody.”
Being well-known, like Ken is in downtown Portland, and being a superstar for Jesus are two different things. Spiritual superstars wow the rest of us with their super spirituality and wisdom, gurus of the faith who possess keen insights and secrets to successful Christian power and living that we need to get from them. In the land of American Christendom no where is this more apparent than in that lustrous industry known as the Conference.
A conference is a word that simply means a special time of gathering together for the purpose of learning something new. Conferences have become money making business and conference speakers have become a business unto themselves. And conference fees have become expensive for all kinds of reasons.
I was looking through a popular Christian magazine a few years ago and became fascinated with the full-page spreads of apostles, bishops and prophets who were inviting the faithful to attend their conference. The razzle-dazzle of these personalities and the promises they made sounded so gimmicky and contrived, like snake-oil pitchmen in the church.
Why do we do this? What is it in us that attracts us to chase down conferences and books and seminars and special sessions to find some elusive…what?
I used to be quite enamored with the whole conference thing too. Like a spiritual groupie, I had my favorite conference speakers and would get excited if they were coming anywhere near my town, as if I was 16 years old again and Foghat were touring my city.
A large church I used to attend hosted a conference. The two speakers were flown in from across the country, one of them a pastor, the other a well-established speaker on the conference circuit. The pastor told lots of stories about how his congregation was learning to be the presence of Jesus in their community. Ok, cool. Always good to hear about that…..and then somehow, perhaps he ran out of stories, he began to tell story after effin’ story of how he had been big for God. He even went so far as to describe a time when his prayer of a few minutes changed the weather over an entire region.
As if.
I’m not making this up.
The other guy, the professional conference speaker guy, had more exotic stories from his adventures as a vocational speaker to countries around the world. International conference speaker. He told story after effin’ story of how the power of God had flowed through him, of confronting demoniacs in villages that no one else would confront, of praying for sick people that others prayed for and did not get healed, but when he prayed, wow, imagine, they suddenly were well.
Both of these men would tell their big stories and, perhaps without realizing it, became big in our eyes. Wow. If only we had their kind of faith, their kind of gifting, their kind of anointing to do such spectacular feats of faith for Jesus and his kingdom. But alas, I don’t possess such power. I am an ordinary, boring Christian who just plods along in my dull life day after blurry day.
At the end of the conference, the two brothers tried to tell us to go do the same. Go be great for God. We shouldn’t miss out and let them do all the great stuff. We can do it, too. The clergy/laity wall divide has got to come down, said the pastor. Ok, sounds good. And then, just like that, they both had prayer lines for the faithful to get an impartation of special power from them. So much for trashing the clergy/laity veil. Grrr…It gets my grrrrr going.
To do big things for God one gets to be big. Of course there is value in true spiritual service and helping others, no matter what scale that effort is.
What was glaring to me was the Mr. Professional Speaker Guy traveled over 200 days a year. How could he possibly truly connect to people in a community if he himself did not live in community? I am convinced that to truly be spiritual for the kingdom of God one must be intersecting their life, the good the bad and the ugly, in some kind of community, a church or group of friends or even drinking buddies. Whatever. We are not meant to pursue God alone or do great things for the kingdom all on our own like some kind of rockstar.
I am no longer enamored with overpriced conferences. I think they breed greed and self-centeredness. Going to a conference is usually all about me. I know of a group of Christians from a church in my city who spent more than $10,000 to get themselves to a conference to be wowed. The effort they put into making sure they had enough money and people was disheartening. Those who really wanted to go, but did not have money were out of luck. There was not effort to bring along friends who could never afford such an extravagant gesture.
It was all about getting to the place of the conference to get filled up with whatever tantalizing, fascinating experience was being sold from the platform from whatever superstar Christian.
I am harsh because I used to be just like that.
I used to attend an annual Christian conference in my city that attracted thousands from all over the region and beyond. The host church was a bonafide megachurch with the clout and facility to host such a mega event. A herd of speakers were flown in from all over the world. The music was concert hall quality, the energy of the event palatable. I looked forward to this event every year.
One year one of the speakers included a pastor with one of the largest congregations in the world. He came from across the globe with an entourage of men. When he took to the platform it was like a presidential candidate being ushered to the podium.
The host pastor made a huge deal out of introducing him, and then presented him with an expensive gift welcoming him to the conference.
I sat there in wonder at it all. This was the beginning, the first instance out of all the conference going I had done to that point, when I found myself beginning to feel uneasy, like the onset of barely detectable symptoms of a virus.
This glitzy speaker than went on to tell us how he had helped many people in his congregation become millionaires. His entourage indeed looked like The Millionaires Club.
The last time I attended this conference another speaker from Europe bragged to us about his expensive sports car and getting his hair cut from the best and most exclusive salon in his city. And that he deserved this because God wants us to have the best and be the best. He then went on with a very slick presentation of how to brand your church. “We tell our people, don’t talk about Jesus, talk about our church. This is what will get them into the door.”
Branding. Expensive suits. Luxurious gifts and entourages that resemble the cast from The Apprentice.
Is this what Jesus told you guys to do, asks atheist Matt Casper? Is this what Jesus died for, asks Christian satirist and author, Becky Garrison?
When I was finally fully infected with the virus of discontentment and cynicism, I stopped going to the big conference at the big church up on the big hill. I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t spend my money or my time in being a part of a gathering that brought in wealthy entrepreneurial church leaders who basically flaunted how successful they were at selling spirituality.
Jesus, as my friend
Jim Henderson points out, was a failure. He did not accomplish much in his simple life. At the end, he had a few followers who were too scared, not inspired, to admit they even knew him. He was buried in a borrowed tomb, too poor to even have an account of funds that could have taken care of all his needs.
Does this mean we are meant to glamorize poverty or simplicity? Of course not. I think the lesson here is to realize that money and fame and superstardom have the ability to corrupt us if we are not careful. Like Frodo with the ring of power, fame and success can seduce us into a world view that is neither biblical nor harmonious with the heart and soul of Christiainity.
Having said that, success in and of itself is not evil any more than money is evil. One of the most misquoted verses of the New Testament is that money is the root of all evil. No. What it says is that Money is the root of all kinds of evil,. I would add that celebrity is also a root of all kinds of evil. Success can be another kind of root for all kinds of evil…like greed, self-aggrandizement, exclusivity, pride, superiority, extravagance… is this what Jesus did with his celebrity?
I don’t think so. And it is time, effin’ long overdue time for us to say so.
The only reason fancy conferences and overpaid conference speakers in mega inflated churches thrive and survive is because there has been a market for it. I think it is time, long overdue, for this market to tank. Totally tank. Overpriced glitzy conferences in the name of Jesus are outrageous.
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