“Do not be conformed to the world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” (Romans 12:2, RSV-2CE)
There and Back Again
I remember walking into the “megachurch-in-the-making” for the first time in the mid 1990s. While I grew up going to Catholic elementary school and was baptized a Catholic, I had long since put God in the “back seat” of my life as I made room in the front for girls, friends, a shot at a music career, and an experience in filmmaking. Twenty-one years old and (fortunately) realizing that there was more to life than becoming a rock star, I knew that I needed to give control of my life back to God.
I entered the church wearing an Alice Cooper T Shirt and denim jeans. Denominationally speaking, it was an Evangelical Presbyterian Church… but they actually hid that fact in order to not appear too “churchy.” In practice, it was as non-denominational as any church could possibly be. I had been seated no more than a minute when a long haired man wearing overalls and looking like a stereotypical farmer approached me to let me know that I was going to take up the offering during the service. It wasn’t really a request, it was a statement. Sure enough, about forty five minutes later I was passing around a basket while on the stage the praise band was performing a song from the alternative rock band, The Lemonheads.
I know a place where I can go when I’m alone.
Into your arms, whoa, into your arms, I can go.
In the church setting, the lyrics sort of sounded like they might have possibly had a Christian connotation. This was most certainly never The Lemonheads’ intent.
A year or so later, as a full fledged member of that congregation, I sat in on a meeting where I learned that having been chosen to collect the offering was intentional. Leaders in the church, I discovered, were trained to look for people who didn’t fit the church mold in order to recruit them to become door greeters or to take up the collection. They sought out people who looked rough around the edges, had visible tattoos (this was the mid 1990s before everyone had visible tattoos) or, as in my case, seemed like rock musicians. The church wanted people’s first impressions to be “hey, this doesn’t seem like a church – and these people don’t seem like Christians… they seem normal… just like the rest of the world.”
It was the height of the seeker sensitive movement in Evangelical protestant churches – and I had landed at what seemed like Ground Zero. As the church grew exponentially in size over the years, it seemed less and less like a church. It’s the same description one hears about most all evangelical megachurches: laser lights, fog machines, and a coffee bar to rival Starbucks. More significantly, it was not even what was there – but what wasn’t. There was no teaching about identifying and repenting from sin, and there was a severe lack of sacred reverence for God. In addition, two or three Bible verses, taken out of context, replaced any actual scripture exegesis.
I often played in the church band – and we were comprised of several musicians that you could catch on Friday and Saturday nights playing at local clubs until 1 or 2am. Not all of us on stage even professed to be Christian! But the pay for musicians was very good. For those who weren’t Christian, it was a gig.
I spent years at that church and was heavily involved. In addition to the church band, I launched their tape kiosk where we sold recordings of that Sunday’s sermon on cassette tape, available immediately after the service. I also served as a deacon for two years.
At this same time I was going through hell on earth, personally. I often say that you could make a movie based on what I went through. A horror movie. To the church’s credit, they were truly helpful to me and my children throughout the ordeal. They assisted in numerous ways during my most difficult times and I made many true friends there. But often, when I found myself in total despair over my tribulations, I just wanted to kneel before God, pray, and cry my eyes out. And I couldn’t do that there. The entire vibe of the megachurch was unfitting for those needs. Instead, I’d end up driving my car to the Catholic parish where I had once attended elementary school. I would open wide the doors, dip my finger in the Holy Water, walk the Stations of the Cross that were carved into the walls, and truly sense the presence of Jesus. This was my only comfort.
It would take me years to put all of this together, but part of the reason I felt so much peace walking inside the Catholic Church was because it did NOT seem “normal” at all. In fact, in contrast to my megachurch, it felt nothing like the rest of the world. It felt sacred. My eyes would always be drawn to the red candle on the altar and to the tabernacle containing consecrated hosts.
Eventually, after spending thirty years as a protestant, I reverted back to the Catholic Church. I have typically cited my reasons for coming back home to Rome as being theological in nature. And that’s certainly the truth. But in addition to the fact that I believe Catholicism makes more theological (and logical) sense, there was another draw for me, as well.
The Catholic Church – the mystical Body of Christ – is indeed not “just like the rest of the world.” The Holy Mass, in a literal sense when you comprehend what is going on, is heavenly. As Dr. Scott Hahn has said many times, the Mass itself is Heaven brought to Earth (see his book, The Lamb’s Supper, for more on this).
In addition, the Catholic Church calls us to examine ourselves. Pious Catholic tradition, practiced and encouraged by many saints such as St. Padre Pio, asks us to hold an examination of conscience every night. We are frequently and regularly reminded to be aware of our sins… not just so we can remember how much we need Jesus… but so that we come to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, repent, and improve ourselves, growing in sanctification, with the goal of becoming saints ourselves.
Metanoia
Metanoia is the Greek word for a change in one’s way of life as a result of spiritual conversion. It signifies a total reorientation of one’s being, mind, and purpose. While it’s often translated to the English word “repent,” it is important to understand that metanoia implies a far deeper connotation than just “sorrow.” And it’s the word metanoia that Jesus uses in the Proclamation of the Kingdom when He announces, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” (Matthew 4:17, RSV-2CE)
The messages one finds in the evangelical megachurches are:
- Come as you are
- Jesus loves you just the way you are
- See, we’re safe here – we’re just the same as you
- If you accept that Jesus died for you – just as you are – then you are already saved and you can’t do anything to add to the work that Christ has already done.
- No sin you could commit could ever take away the salvation that God has already given you.
The implications – whether intentional or not – are:
- I was as good as I’ll ever be on the day I was saved.
- I can’t really improve anyway, but that’s fine. I’m saved.
- I don’t need to change, anyway. I’m saved.
But remember – Jesus called for metanoia. “Metanoia! For the Kingdom of God is at hand!” He asked us to repent – and be baptized – and that is just the start of our Christian walk. From there, He continually calls us to ongoing daily conversion. To sanctification. To sainthood. You see, we have a personal responsibility to improve.
The Catholic Church should look different from the world. It should be a sacred place set apart for the Sacraments. As Paul writes in Romans, Christians should not be conformed to the standard of the world but rather we should be transformed – with renewed minds! Metanoia!
In light of this, it seems offensive for any church to strive so hard to look “just like the rest of the world” and “not churchy” when Christ calls us to metanoia and Paul reminds us not to be conformed to the world. Some may say, “on the inside, we’re transformed but on the outside, by looking like the rest of the world, we are bringing lost souls into church who would never have otherwise come.” But are we to be ashamed of our Lord and His righteousness? Or, are we to trick people into entering the church by looking so much like a country club or night club?
Before I left that megachurch, one could hardly tell a difference between the ways of the world and their contemporary services. On one memorable occasion, the pastor actually rode up to the stage to deliver his sermon on a Harley Davidson motorcycle. The crowd applauded wildly as he slung off his helmet and told the crowd, “I’m a real man.”
New Year’s Resolution
I’m writing this in the first week of January, 2026. I don’t know when you are reading it. But let’s make a resolution today – to truly strive to follow Christ. On His terms. Metanoia.