I wonder.
I wonder how many people, if we actually asked them, keep coming back to our churches because of our stellar Sunday productions.
I wonder if we ask the right people.
I wonder if we stopped, for a while, if people would keep coming.
I wonder if we turned off the lights and pulled the band if more people would come or go.
I wonder if we flipped the teaching time and music time, if it would matter.
I wonder if first time visitors are more concerned with what happens outside the auditorium than what happens inside it.
I wonder if the things we’ve rebelled against are the exact things we’ve become.
I wonder if church buildings will ever be used more than 2% a week.
I wonder if there has been more energy put into our Easter weekend services than our neighbors on the left and right.
I wonder with all the talk of social justice, why those friends keep walking by homeless people without even a smile.
I wonder when we will stop arguing about how to run the church and begin to start running our families.
I wonder how disrespected my dad feels by my generation of preachers saying his way is the wrong way.
I wonder how disrespected my generation of preachers will feel when our kids say our way is the wrong way.
I wonder when church envy will be replaced with prayer for others to succeed.
I wonder if churches without buildings will ever realize how good they have it.
I wonder when church planting became an industry.
I wonder if we know that our opinions are just that, opinions.
I wonder if those who say my church is an inch deep and a mile wide know that they would actually drown in the inch we provide.