The Decline and Fall of the Western Church

Paul Newton

I read a heartbreaking column in the Deseret News on Friday. It was by a pastor named Ryan Burge. It was titled, “My church is closing, and I don’t know what comes next — for me, or America.” In the column, Burge tells how his congregation, First Baptist Church of Mount Vernon, Illinois, recently shuttered its doors for good. At one point, Burge questions whether he was ever fit to lead a church. That speaks highly of him since no pastor should ever look himself in the mirror and say, "Well done, good and faithful servant." He also struggles with the fact that while his profile as a Christian academic grew, his congregation continued to age out and shrink.

Advertisement

While my online platform was rising and I was being offered a variety of opportunities to speak and write, things were continuing to decline at my little church. I would come from home from speaking at a conference that had a couple hundred in attendance to preach before a nearly empty sanctuary on Sunday morning.

Not all denominations are struggling, but many churches in America and the West are declining. But Burge is taking too much on himself. The deck was stacked against him. While the world may increasingly hold Christianity in contempt, we have often been complicit in our own destruction.

In "The Screwtape Letters," Screwtape, a senior devil in Hell, writes to his nephew Wormwood. Wormwood is a junior tempter trying to win the soul of his "patient." 

The real trouble about the set your patient is living in is that it is merely Christian. They all have individual interests, of course, but the bond remains mere Christianity. What we want, if men become Christians at all, is to keep them in the state of mind I call "Christianity And." You know—Christianity and the Crisis, Christianity and the New Psychology, Christianity and the New Order, Christianity and Faith Healing, Christianity and Psychical Research, Christianity and Vegetarianism, Christianity and Spelling Reform. If they must be Christians let them at least be Christians with a difference. Substitute for the faith itself some Fashion with a Christian colouring. Work on their horror of the Same Old Thing.

 The horror of the Same Old Thing is one of the most valuable passions we have produced in the human heart—an endless source of heresies in religion, folly in counsel, infidelity in marriage, and inconstancy in friendship.

Advertisement

The issue of "Christianity And" is not merely a stumbling block for the mainline Protestant denominations. It is true that those churches subscribe to ideas such as Christianity and LGBTQ+ or Christianity and Abortion. As a result, those denominations splinter, and their congregations shrink. I have heard them say that they are "small but mighty." If they are mighty, it is because they have yoked themselves to the popular causes of the day. 

But other denominations also run the risk of "Christianity And." In some cases, it may be Christianity and Conservatism or even Christianity and Trump. Or perhaps the most dangerous "And" of all: Christianity and Popularity. Despite what the talking heads may tell you, many churches do not automatically conflate patriotism with faith. The legend of their pervasiveness has been greatly exaggerated. But as anyone who has kept an eye on church trends over the last decade or so will tell you, many churches have sought some level of syncretism with progressive causes because those causes ostensibly enjoy the benefits of favorable public opinion. Or, adopting those causes, along with loud music, empty-headed sermons, and special effects, may keep young families coming back every week and the cancelation wolves away from the doors.

Then, there is the tendency for church leaders to become enamored of their power and positions, an attitude that can devastate a church. Those stories are legion, and you can find them in many places around the web.

Advertisement

There is, and always has been, an unhealthy fascination with eschatology or the end of the world. Many Christians are quick to cite Matthew 24:37-44. They look at the corruption of the world prior to the Flood and see parallels in the present age. And to be fair, it is hard not to draw comparisons. But in doing so, they miss the point of Christ's words. On the day of the Flood, everyone except for Noah and his family got up thinking it was a typical Tuesday, Thursday, or whatever day it was, completely unaware of what would befall them. Our own last day will be just as unexpected. To that end, it is wise to heed the more accurate interpretation of the original source for Revelation 22:7. That interpretation is not “Behold, I am coming quickly!” but "Behold, I am coming suddenly." God keeps the day and hour of the Second Coming from us not to trip us up, but to encourage us to live every day engaged in the work of building the kingdom. 

It is tempting to read biblical prophecy in the light of current events and declare that the end is near. But in doing so, we tend to forget that the prophets were far more often prescriptive than predictive in their pronouncements. More often than not, the prophets' messages were for the people to get their collective acts together or suffer the logical consequences. Think of it as an Ancient Near East version of "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," or "Screw around and find out." We look to the future and neglect our present at our peril. We fret about the Mark of the Beast while ignoring the Letters to the Seven Churches. 

Advertisement

Finally, there is Christian hostility. It may be toward a denomination different from ours or, on an even more petty level, one that uses the "wrong" version of the Bible. And I understand the mindset. The world is antagonistic toward Christians, and it is normal to want to circle the wagons. But nowhere was Chrisitan hostility more on display than the recent "Christ is King" imbroglio. 

Allow me to explain.

Not long ago, a famous conservative personality was released from her position at a prominent platform over her views on Israel. Of course, there was a backlash. One of PJ Media's contributors, Rabbi Michael Barclay, penned an op-ed that angered the famous personality. The personality invited the rabbi to her show. Out of curiosity, I listened to the podcast. The rabbi repeatedly apologized for anything offensive he may have said, tried to explain his point of view, and searched vainly for some common ground and reconciliation. The personality would have none of it and made sure through social media that the world knew how affronted she was and how she had been victimized. The rabbi was lambasted on all fronts, and terrible things were said about him. He and his family even received threats. Sadly, the vitriol was plentiful; some even came from a few of PJ Media's readers.

Rabbi Barclay is a friend of mine. Before the satanic events of October 7, we talked on a regular basis via phone, usually with each of us enjoying the cigar of our choice. We talked about religion and politics and sometimes just swapped stories and jokes. In the wake of the Hamas atrocities, the rabbi has had his hands full, so we have not had the chance to connect. 

Advertisement

But one day, I was at a home improvement store looking for a part for our dryer vent. I was approached by a girl who must have been all of 15 years old. She showed me a note asking for money. Like many people, I don't carry cash, so I told her I didn't have any money. She looked heartbroken and walked off. In my defense, I was not sure if I was being scammed, and I really didn't have any cash. But the longer I thought about it, the worse I felt. What if she was in serious trouble and desperately needed help, and I had turned my back on her? Ultimately, I called the police, gave them her description, and reported her as a possible endangered minor. I have no idea how her story turned out, and I became very angry with myself. I could have and should have done more. So I called Rabbi Barclay and said, "I think I have committed a sin." Then I told him my story. 

First, he reminded me that I was not Moses, Jesus, or Buddha and should get over myself. Second, he explained that, yes, I should have done something for the girl. But he added that God had used that moment to teach me a lesson about compassion and generosity. He explained that there is no way of knowing when God will send someone our way and that we must always be prepared for such moments. 

That is not the counsel of an evil man.

Nevertheless, Rabbi Barclay was pilloried amongst cries of "Christ is King!" These people have no regard for any of Christ's words in Luke 6:27-36 regarding enemies, real or imagined. They may be able to recite the narrative of the parable of the Good Samaritan while remaining ignorant of the historical context of the enmity between the Jews and the Samaritans that gave the parable its original impact. Christ is not their king. They have supplanted Him with themselves. They may go to the throne, spewing "Christ is King!' like a mouthful of tobacco juice or White Claw backwash, only to hear, "Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?"

Advertisement

Pastor Burge needs to forgive himself. His church has been shuttered, and he does not know where to go next. But by all indications, he did the best he could with the tools he had. Christianity may be on the decline in America. Some of that is because of the culture, but much of it has to do with us Christians and our affinity for cheap grace.

Recommended

Trending on PJ Media Videos

Join the conversation as a VIP Member

Advertisement
Advertisement