Goldilocks Comes to Church

Remember Goldilocks? At the three bears’ house, she tested the porridge, the chairs, and the beds until she found the ones that were “just right” for her. Not too hot or too cold, too big or too little, too hard or too soft. Just right. Goldilocks knew what she liked, and she kept looking until she found it. I wonder what would happen if Goldilocks came to church.
Some people shop for a church the Goldilocks way. They visit churches’ worship services with their list of preferences. Is the music too loud, too soft, too fast, too slow, or just right? Is the sermon too long, too short, or just right? Are the people too friendly, too cold, too wild, too calm, or just right? Is the congregation too big, too small, too old, too young, or just right? If one church is not just right, they visit the next, and the next, until they find the one that lines up with their preferences.
Church leaders have caught on to the Goldilocks method of church shopping, and so they do demographics studies to discover people’s preferences, and design their worship services accordingly. Church-growth practitioners become experts at custom-designing Sunday services that will meet the preferences of the largest number of people in a given area. They call them “seeker sensitive” worship services. A church-growth expert would find out what kind of worship Goldilocks likes and make sure she gets it.
The problem is, different people have different preferences. In any given community, there are devoted Christian people with opposing worship preferences. There are those who prefer traditional worship with hymns and choir robes, and those who prefer contemporary worship with choruses and projection screens. Some want suits, pews and stained glass; others prefer blue jeans, folding chairs and coffee-holders. People choose a local church based on worship preferences like they choose a particular model of automobile or a grocery store. Like Goldilocks at the bears’ house.
Division is an unfortunate byproduct of worship preferences. People tend to make idols of their preferences and refuse to compromise them, even if it means excluding other members of the Body of Christ. These exclusive attitudes are often justified by the explanation that “They don’t worship like we do.” It’s almost as if church people are saying, you have to worship like us, or you can go find another church. Ironically, the worship of God in Christ becomes divisive, when it should be the most unifying activity of all.
Now I know that preferences can be good, and necessary, because they help us navigate through the myriad of choices facing us at every turn. In a choice-crazed culture, my preferences act as my guide. Without much thought, I drive by Starbucks because I prefer Panera Bread. At Panera Bread I easily focus on the triple-berry, low-fat muffin, because it is my preference among all those delectable offerings (at least it was, until it was discontinued, but that’s another story).
But preferences can hurt us and the cause of Christ when we cling to them at the expense of unity and hospitality. People who are “not like me” should be welcome in my church, even if it means that I will have to learn to worship in different ways. Perhaps worship would be richer, broader, and more challenging if we gave up the notion that it must be done only in one certain way. Is it possible that we could love people more than our preferences? Could it be that diverse modes of worship might be a sign of our hospitality, and our willingness to expand our worship preferences could result in a church that more accurately represents the diverse community in which it is located?
Perhaps we need to remember the words of Jesus when He said, “Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth.” Welcome to our church, Goldilocks. Let’s find out how we can worship together.