When our family first arrived in Bolivia, we ended up at an Anglican parish that was not even called a church. It was called the Centro Cristiano de Guapay, that is the Christian Centre of Guapay. The pastor/priest there only ever wore open-necked shirts, used minimal, if any liturgy, and followed an older pattern of having communion once a month.
He went as far as setting up on one of the longer sides of the building, so that as you walked in you were not facing the front, but the side. The chairs were arranged in a semi-circle pattern to ensure that nothing looked like church, and the music group actually sat on a platform one level above the pulpit. The baptismal was front and center (so in front of the pulpit which was in front of the praise group), and actually had jets inside that could circulate the water like a jaccouzi. In fact, during the week, it was used as a relaxing jaccouzi, more than once, by some of the people.
The Rector’s argument was that he was adjusting the church to the local culture, and trying to attract people who were alienated by the local Roman Catholic parishes. The reality was that the parish was not growing, and was seen as a rather oddball group of people. That is, his attempt to adjust the church to the culture was a failure. One can muse over the many wrong analyses of culture that he did to arrive at his conclusion. However, he must be praised in one area. At least he was conscious that the church does need to make some adjustments for any culture they wish to penetrate.
The difficulty, of course, is in knowing how much adjustment needs to be made, who has the right to make those adjustments, when those adjustments need to be made, how are those adjustments related to the church in the home country, etc. The difficulty of this process can be seen in Acts 15, when the Church finally had to call its first Ecumenical Council to decide upon the changes that had been put in place by St. Paul and other missionaries. There you can read the arguments from those in the “bleeding edge” party, and from those in the “nothing must change” party. Those who are still stuck in 1800’s Hegelian philosophy love to argue that there you can see thesis and antithesis leading to a new synthesis.
The Church did reach a decision. It was a decision that was to change the course of missiology. For the bare summary of that decision found in Acts 15 points us to what has been the position of the Church since. There are some things that must be preserved at all costs. There are some things that must be preserved for now. There are some things that are free to change. That threefold analysis continues to be the way in which change is brought, whenever missiology is done correctly.
And so, you find St. Paul writing to the Corinthians and insisting that certain things must be preserved at all costs (. . . for I passed on to you what I received). And he writes to the Galatians (. . . even if an angel from heaven preaches differently, let him be accursed). But he also writes to the Colossians (. . . let no one judge you) saying that their particular cultural worship was permitted and to resist those who try to bind them to another cultural worship. And, you find St. Paul in the Book of Acts doing something that most of us would have trouble doing. He has St. Timothy circumcised, though he does not believe it necessary, because that is the tradition of the Jerusalem Church. In other words, local traditions do have authority.
I suspect that the inflatable church would not pass the test of these principles. I suspect that it is more like the mission to which we were first assigned in Bolivia. But, it does remind us that all too often we are complacent and do not do the analyses of culture and Holy Tradition that we need to do in order for the Holy Spirit to be able to guide us into effective evangelism.
There is another tradition – beginning with St Paul and the Acropolis. The inflatable church’s purpose seems to be to remind the people of church – not to replicate church. There won’t be a mass, for example. If it’s replicating anything, it’s providing an “Icon corner” to people’s vacations.
I’m reminded of the Orthodox Clergy (not you, Fr E!) who reacted strongly on my blog to the idea of Theology on Tap – the monthly discussions on religion conducted in local bars by clergy. I suggested it might be a cool thing and was reminded that “The Canons” forbid clergy from going into bars…
Personally I’d be offended if they were trying to offer mass, etc, in this environment. But it sounds rather more like “Theology on Tap” – a way to make *some* connexion in the hopes that something will grow out of it – remember, our legends teach that St Paul met St Dionysious that day in Athens.
I think it might depend on the cultural tradition of the “bar.” In England, a pub is clearly not an American biker bar, by a long shot! And, even in England there are “pubs” that are very clearly not safe. The Early Church prohibition was in a culture in which those bars were not “pubs,” and, therefore, not safe for any Christian to attend.
The same sort of questioning would have to be applied to the venue. Does this mean that no Orthodox clergy can go eat at a Chili’s or an Applebee’s, etc.? I do not notice many Orthodox clergy staying away from those establishments, yet both have a “bar” section. But, having a clergy discussion in a true bar (not a pub) would need to be carefully evaluated.
The Acropolis was more akin to the university of yore, where free discussion was the order of the day. So, I am not sure that that example would apply to the “bar” situation.
This is an interesting question that would undoubtedly provoke debate among us. I think I would need to do the missiological “thing” of: evaluating local culture, evaluating the actual setting, developing an action plan, asking whether there are alternate ways of accomplishing the same goals, talking it over with fellow clerics, and, if necessary, consulting with my Dean. In other words, careful missiological planning can avoid many pitfalls.
100% agreement on the “there are bars and bars” idea. I noted in the discussion on my blog that no one would be able to go to Denny’s – where our parish community at the time (including clergy and monastics) was wont to go following liturgy on Feast Days.
But I would suggest that if you *found* a biker bar that wanted a Theology on Tap discussion… it would be a special charism indeed if you were to hold a productive discussion there! I know one such bar in SF – where they might welcome the business on Wednesday nights when you and the bartender can hold a quite conversation for hours with no one else interrupting.
Careful planning: I know one priest who would suggest you should have the blessing of your bishop before you blog.
So… yes.
In your world… on Spring Break, when Campus Crusade for Christ comes down there for weeks at a time on “mission trips” trying to save souls on the beaches, I think it might be interesting if the Church offered a movie night with discussion afterwards. Come for free popcorn and, yes, free beer if you have proof of age – or free soda if you don’t want that hassle – and/or get some of the local community to throw a huge pot luck and invite as many college students as possible to spend a sober night of fellowship and discussion.
Why build a church on the beach when you’re already so close?