Sunday, Bloody Sunday Morning

Has the Church turned Sunday mornings into a ‘Golden Calf’?

There’s an older gentleman who sporadically visits our church, never to worship, but to expressly seek out one of our staff members. I’m not sure why he’s singled him out or why he hasn’t ever thought talking to me was a good idea. This gentleman was, at some point, a member of the Seventh Day Adventist Church; however his association with them has discontinued because they became, in his opinion, too progressive and “wishy washy”. His primary goal by dropping into our church, always on a Sunday morning, is to tell us that we’re worshiping on the wrong day and we need to repent from our foolish ways and convert to Saturday worship.

I’m sure I’m oversimplifying his position and there’s a large part of me that would really love to sit down over a cuppa and unpack some of the reasons he feels so passionately about worship on a Saturday, but there’s a bigger part of me that’s immensely grateful for my colleague who’s taken the slings and arrows on this occasion. My colleague refers to him as the “nicest bible basher he’s ever met” with his gentle but firm and narrow approach.

One of things I would say to him if I had the chance, is that he does have point about Sundays. I’m becoming more and more convinced that not only have Sundays, particularly Sunday mornings, become increasingly problematic in the world we live in, but I would boldly venture to say that we, as the “modern church”, have created a “Golden Calf” out of Sunday mornings.

The expression “Golden Calf” has found its way into the popular vernacular as something that’s worshiped or idolised but may not be worthy of the attention it’s given. If you don’t know the story of the Golden Calf, it’s found in the Bible in the Book of Exodus, chapters 32-34. 

Moses goes away to receive instruction from God but while he’s away the Israelites get impatient and anxious, thinking Moses might not return. They approach his brother Aaron, who’s supposed to be the high priest of Yahweh, and get him to make them a new god, like the ones they’d left behind in Egypt, that they could “rely on”. Aaron gets them to bring all their gold, melts it down and fashions it into a calf. The Israelites are happy and start worshiping and sacrificing to this new god.

In the meantime Moses is still connecting with God who informs him of what’s been going on and is none-too pleased. Moses pleads with God not to be vengeful and destroy the people. After which Moses then comes down the mountain, and seeing for himself, is furious and smashes his recently acquired stone tablets with the law on them. Aaron tries to defend himself by claiming “it just appeared out of the fire” and by sheer chance happened to look exactly like a calf… Long story short, Moses burns the Golden Calf, grounds it to powder, scatters it on the water, and makes the Israelites drink it.

If Sunday mornings are idolised like the Golden Calf, is it about time we went “all Moses” on Sunday mornings?

Before I get too far into my argument, I do realise that the 10 commandments say at commandment number 4 that we should remember the Sabbath and keep it holy (Exodus 20:8) but that’s talking about a Saturday, which our friend who visits our church would step onto a soap box and begin to advocate for. I also appreciate the significance of changing from Saturdays to Sundays to recognise the resurrection of Jesus and I’ll explore this a bit later. However, before you get to commandment 4, there’s commandment 2 which instructs God’s people not to create idols:

You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. (Exodus 20:4)

I believe that’s what Sunday mornings have become to many within the church today – an idol. We need to attend to this. I’m not advocating for the church absenting itself completely from Sunday mornings. Rather, I’m advocating for a recapturing, and perhaps reimagining, of a theology of when and how we worship that’s fit for purpose in our modern world. Maybe we’d find we could be becoming more faithful to Jesus’ original intentions.

I grew up in a Christian family, living my first 8 years with the memory of getting up to go to church every Sunday morning. I went to Sunday school where one of my parents would often teach. On occasion we’d all go to the main service where there was Holy Communion. My recollection is that we’d come home from church and there’d be a roast of some description for lunch. It always seemed a little later than normal lunch and I recall us having the TV on in the afternoon with old movies. If the weather was good we’d be out in the yard playing while dad pottered around the house looking like he was fixing things. The day finished with something light for dinner and watching Young Talent Time. Some Sundays we’d travel to the other side of Sydney to my grandparents place. I remember that the roast dinner wasn’t quite as good as mum’s but we’d always get 50 cent coins that my Nana had been saving for us which made the trip well worthwhile. 

It strikes me as I look back at those years that the sacred space on the weekend for me growing up was less about going to church in the morning and more about the rich family time we had later that day. Yet without the time of worshiping and reflecting on who God is and how that impacted the way my parents parented, I wonder if it would have felt so sacred. I know my parents wanted to break a mould they saw in previous generations. Their faith in Jesus and their regular worship of him compelled them to become part of a Christian community week after week. There they experienced different examples of family life, explored the teachings of Jesus and this was an obvious source of their desire to live differently.

I started playing team sport at around 8 years old, just before we left Sydney, and Dad began study at theological college in the Hunter Valley. From then on, I inhaled sport of every form. I wanted to try everything I could. I was devastated when my mother said I was “too slight” for Rugby League and I’m convinced to this day I would have made a cracking centre or winger… but no… Summer sport was mostly cricket, winter soccer. I swam 2 to 3 times a week and got pretty good at that. I also picked up golf, badminton and tennis competitively in my school years. My sister was all netball while I was a jack of all trades, master of none. There was one barrier that always appeared… Whenever there was a special carnival, gala, match or event on a Sunday, the answer was always a resounding and absolute “No”. I remember the horror on my parents face when I suggested that maybe I could give “Nippers” a try. Even though my father was an avid surf lifesaver in his younger years, Nippers was on Sundays, not a chance! Sunday was the “Lord’s Day” and my parents were adamant that it was more important for me to be distinctively Christian than a sporting superstar… perhaps there’s an underlying resentment there… I probably should mention that to my professional supervisor at some point… There was a rare exception in 1986 when there was an evening service, I was given permission to play Junior golf some Sunday mornings, as long as someone got me there and bought me home and of course I was expected to be at church that evening.

The world we live in today is very different. First “Sunday trading” was introduced and now, if trying to get a park last Sunday afternoon is anything to go by, it’s normal to find yourself at a shopping centre at some point on a Sunday. Sport on a Sunday, which was an occasional thing when I was at school, is now regularised and there are some sports you can only play on a Sunday morning. Our local Anglican school, which has a reputation for spectacular school musicals and productions, always has its main rehearsals on Sunday mornings because it’s the only day that seems to be able to get the maximum amount of people there. Sundays are a work day for many, and not just those who work in the Church.

In my area on the Gold Coast, in South East Queensland, I’ve seen a massive cultural shift since 2020. We all live incredibly busy lives, too busy for the most part. During and following the COVID-19 pandemic I’ve seen an intentional reclaiming of time for the family unit particularly on Sunday mornings as scared space, but not for the Church. Rather than saying no to AFL or Nippers for their kids, parents are saying yes and going with them. Because of the busyness of life, many are keeping on working at least for part of the day even though the office is closed. I know for a number of people the only reason to get up early on a Sunday morning is to beat the rush at Bunnings. On Sunday mornings cafes in my part of the world are full of people of every demographic, from all walks of life, and heaps of young families.

To be honest, I’d be in a cafe too if I didn’t have to run church services. After we were married and before I went to theological college, my wife and I, and later our daughter who was born before our life changed radically, would “religiously” go out to brunch on Sunday mornings in Newcastle. We’d sleep in as long as we could and then find a cafe and have a leisurely time together catching up on the week that had gone, and looking forward to the week ahead, and just generally enjoying time together. We went to church on Sundays but we went to a service that started in the evening. So the day was clear for us to be a family together.

I’ve read a number of surveys over the years that asked respondents if they would attend church, when would that be. Sunday mornings always seems to be the clear winner.

But…

If the only time we put out the we’re “open for business” sign is the time when the rest of our world has put up the “do not disturb” sign, then we have a fundamental problem that we need to address.

Before I pull everything apart maybe we should explore how we got to where we are and ask the question: Is there a good reason for having a church service on a Sunday morning? Anglican’s are big fans of what we call the “3-legged stool”: scripture, reason and tradition. We think when that is in balance all is right with the world in a theological and ecclesiological sense. I can definitely see a scriptural and traditional argument for Sunday morning but I’m wondering if reason might need to speak up a little louder as we move forward in a changing world.

The primary justification for Sunday morning is it was the day of Jesus’ resurrection and the women came to the tomb early in the morning.

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.” (John 20:1)

I do wake up when it’s dark on Sunday mornings for a large part of the year on the Gold Coast but by the time people start to walk through the door for our first service the sun has been up for some time. 

Many early Christians were Jewish and would observe the Sabbath (Saturday) and gather together as a Christian community on the first day of the week (Sunday). This quickly became regularised.

“On the first day of the week, when we met to break bread, Paul was holding a discussion with them; since he intended to leave the next day, he continued speaking until midnight.” (Acts 20:7)

By the time Paul’s writing to the Corinthian Church he’s identifying the importance of a Sunday for taking up collections (1 Corinthians 16:2) which became part of Christian worship. At the time of being inspired to write The Revelation of St John, he mentions the impact of the being moved by the Spirit on the “Lord’s Day” which biblical scholars will tend to interpret as a Sunday.

As more non-Jewish (gentile) converts joined the Jesus movement, less emphasis was placed on the Sabbath and more on Sunday but elements of Sabbath rest were leaking into this new community. By 331AD the newly converted Emperor Constantine passed an edict:

“On the venerable Day of the sun, let the magistrates and people residing in cities rest, and let all workshops be closed. In the country, however, persons engaged in agriculture may freely and lawfully continue their pursuits: because it often happens that another Day is not so suitable for grain sowing or for vine planting: lest by neglecting the proper moment for such operations the bounty of heaven should be lost.”

At the Council of Laodicea, Canon 29 stated Christians should not “Judaise” by resting on the Sabbath, rather should work on Saturdays and honour Sunday instead as the day of worship.

There is a suggestion that Pagan worship of the sun influenced the choice of Sundays. As Christianity spread across the world & throughout cultures it seemed to have a habit of “re-working” pagan observances and festivals to assist in sharing its message. It was perhaps equally helped by the spread of the Roman Empire that Sunday worship became a unifying tradition among diverse Christian communities.

There’s a lot more I could add to validate both Sundays and Sunday mornings, but as I looked through the many arguments and justifications I couldn’t help but recognise how our patterns of gathering were heavily influenced by the culture of the times.

I often joke that as a theologian I should be able to theologise anything and we can certainly theologise a solid rationale for an ongoing observance of Sunday mornings, but I wonder what we loose when we don’t do what our forebears did and take into account the culture of their time. The early church observed the Sabbath as a cultural touch point for converted Jews. The church of the Roman Empire created, or at least curated, a cultural connection point for those with a pagan background. What should the Church of today notice about the culture we are living in now?

I recognise that my context of urban Gold Coast life will have some significant differences to other parts of Australia and the world, but if you’re not from somewhere like me, I hope my thought process might help you ask questions of your connection to culture, community, worship and discipleship.

So what’s the plan? Do we shut everything down and book a table at our local cafe next Sunday morning? That sounds extreme and maybe it will take extreme measures to begin to cut through a culture that has largely reached a point where the local church doesn’t make a difference in their lives and when they drive past our buildings they don’t even notice, let alone give us a second thought. I use to think pithy and witty signs could cut through… they maybe did a while back, but I’m not so sure now… 

What are the sacred spaces in our world today if they’re not our church buildings? Should we spend some time getting to know our local area and see where and how and why people are gathering, who they are gathering with and ask the question: “Should not the Church be in that space with them?” After all, shouldn’t we have Christ followers at Nippers, watching their children play AFL and working in and meeting in local cafes, even in the gardening aisles of Bunnings?

I’m not sure I’m brave enough to shut everything down, and I respect, love and value the faithful remnant that turns up most Sundays too much to do that to them… but… we can’t expect them to come to us, if we’re not going to them, if we’re hiding ourselves away in ‘God Boxes’ thinking we’ve got the answers ready for when they realise what they’re missing… because I’m not sure that time will ever come, and as we wait we become more and more disconnected and our faithful remnant continues to diminish in both number and missional zeal.

While I am still not advocating that we abandon Sunday mornings all together I really want the Church to ask and answer this question: “What theology do we develop when we place an over importance on Sunday mornings as the only day we worship or gather or connect or publicly express?”

I’ve heard this comment a number of times in a number of churches. It goes something like this: “I like going to the early service on a Sunday because it gets it out of the way and frees up the rest of the day”.

But wait… isn’t worshiping and following Jesus supposed to be an everyday thing? (I actually wrote a song about that way back in 2002.) Part of the theology that is developed when there’s an over emphasis on Sunday mornings (or any other specific time of day, or day of the week for that matter) is that we only properly worship in a regulated way at a regulated time. That theology cannot be derived from scripture, at least not in my reading of it…

I did a deep dive on Genesis 17 for my undergraduate Theology degree. In verse 1 of that chapter God says to Abraham: ‘I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless.’ (Genesis 17:1).

I discovered that in the Aramaic translation of Jewish scriptures (the Targum) the word for “walk” is the same word used for “worship”. One of the things I took from that revelation is that every step we take, can and should be in worship of God. Our worship leads us to desire to gather as community that might sometimes be in Church buildings, but we are called to continue to worship as we walk out of them.

It was an Old Testament concept that God could most intimately be encountered in the Holiest of Holies in the Temple, but Jesus destroyed the incorrect perception of Temple’s monopoly on the intimate access to God. So why has the Church resurrected it? God can be encountered through Jesus Christ at any time and in any location. If that’s the case then why do we deify our buildings and the times we gather in them? It’s actually idolatry when we do that we’ve asked church leaders to fashion a new Golden Calf.

I know I’ll ruffle some feathers by suggesting this, but I think there’s a dangerous theology created when we place an over importance on Sunday mornings. It’s idolatry, it’s not God as Trinity who is worshiped. It’s the buildings, location, and the time that becomes our God, and that’s a different type of grouping of 3 altogether…

So we need to go “all Moses” on that way of thinking.

But something needs to take its place… and that something should be the worship of the Triune God who is made accessible at all times, in all places, through the power of the Holy Spirit active in the people of God and our world because of the death and resurrection of Jesus.

What is that something? I have some inklings for my context but I am cautious to create a laundry list because my context is not every context, and the ‘what’s next’ in my area might not work in yours or any other areas. I do however think there’s a place we can start.

The search for the sacred… and the invitation to find the sacred.

As I reflect on the sacredness of my childhood Sundays, I discover that my parents created a sacred space for us as a family because of the Church community and their faith in Jesus on a Sunday after Church… sometimes that sacredness spilled over to my grandparents or neighbours who weren’t regular church goers.

As followers, believers and members of Christian communities, we should challenge ourselves to take sacred spaces and let them spill over into other parts of the week and not just Sunday afternoons. To develop disciplines that remind us that worship and discipleship is an everyday thing. For that we might just have to worship at different times on different days and in different ways… and invite others to join us… because I for one need more than just my own idea of God to experience the fullness of God. I need both believers and those who are yet to believe, and I’m pretty sure I also need those who’ll never believe as well.

A big problem with my tribe (the Anglican Church) is that our principal measurement for success (or decline) is how many people come inside a Church building on a Sunday. We do count other times throughout the week… but the emphasis is heavily weighted towards Sundays. As a pastor who talks to other pastors there’s a common goal we all seem to strive for: to make our Sundays bigger than they are… to grow. But I’m starting to wonder if growth moving forward is going to to look a lot more like more smaller groups of people in lots of different locations, rather than just 1 larger group of people in 1 location. I do still hope we have times where we can fill our buildings because there is something special when a room full of people raise their voice in worship… but we don’t always need massive buildings to get those experiences. A full small building, or even a lounge room, can be just as profound and impactful.

If we can’t fill big spaces anymore, should we seek smaller spaces to fill… or here’s something radical… explore the sacredness in spreading out, and creating space for people to not be crowded out like we are in a busy world… but with others who also need space in their world. God will be found in both the quiet and spacious, and in the up close and active.

Rather than trying to build a culture of people who come to a Church service at the same time each week, what if we actually tried to connect with them where they are? What if we understood what is sacred for them and share that experience? What if in sharing their experience of what is sacred we might discover ways to show, share and demonstrate the grace and mercy of God and the unconditional love that we are recipients of? What if we took time to get to know them rather than checking them off at the door? If we get to know them, then they get to know us and as followers of and believers in Jesus shouldn’t there be something distinctive about us that’s attractive, unique and stands out from what is present in the world? What if our prime goal wasn’t to bring them back next week but to connect them to other good people and other ‘God people’ and meet needs and equip, resource and disciple them?

I’ve heard a number of Christian commentators suggest that what we’re seeing in the western world at the moment, is a poverty of community and relationship. My sense, however, is that we have not yet reached an epiphany or conversion moment as a society to recognise that’s actually what we’re missing. A few years ago we were told it was good for us to physically distance ourselves from others and I’m not sure we twigged that this was easier for many of us because we had already begun to distance ourselves socially, emotionally and spiritually. 

I’ve been around churches long enough to know that we’re generally not as good at community and relationships as we think we are. So we can hang around and wait for that cultural moment that convicts people that they’re missing community and relationship and hope and pray that some of them might choose the Church to explore.

Or we could start to get better at community and relationships by taking ourselves out of our God Boxes and time slots and start trying to engage the world outside the Church. We don’t go alone but in the power of the Holy Spirit. I wonder if we might find that sometimes we might not only be reshaped as a Church, but also have the privilege of walking alongside others as they are reshaped by the transforming love of God found in Jesus Christ and evident through the actions, relationships and community of his followers.

Is that not better than doing the same thing at the same time over and over again and praying for different results? I’m pretty sure someone has already defined that as insanity.