Tonight, I had a field observation after a long hiatus. When I was in Toledo, I used to go to so many churches for my research on contemporary worship that my Christian friends joked about me to be more Christian than them (judged by my church attendance). Sometimes, I went to 3 services on a Sunday. Quite workaholic. Although I enjoyed my time in most of those churches.
However, since I've landed in Carbondale, I've got so stuck with my home-campus-home routine that I think I've become a zombie (and that's when my brain gets free enough to think about anything). As one of my friends jokes about it, just going to Kroger for grocery shopping is our weekend breakaway. Quite a life.
Then, I saw this flyer advertising for a worship service on campus: One Faith. And ironically, it was in the same Student Center ball-room where Ron Jeremy and Pastor Gross had their porn debate a few weeks ago. And I felt curious to see the quality and attendance of such an event in such a party-land that is SIU on a party-night that is Friday night.
It was a joint worship service by all sort of ministries on-campus (and off-campus). The name, One Faith, was catchy. But what drew me to the event was my boredom with a life that is all about reading unreasonable loads of readings over a very short time without getting a deep understanding, writing summaries and so on, ad infinitum. I've switched to Sociology to enjoy my life doing field observations. I could've stayed in my job as an engineer and just read sociology books and articles. And a PhD program should be about quality of reading, not just quantity. Anyway.
When I was in Toledo, I had gone to a couple of worship services on campus. They were mostly Campus Crusade for Christ (CRU). And I have to say I was not impressed so much. To be honest, these CRU meetings helped me get a better idea about spirituality on campus, or may I say, collegiate spirituality. But I found these youthful collegiate worships to be laden with emotion, shallow in spirituality and malnourished in theology. And after a while, I preferred to spend my field observation time in a more efficient way, mostly in churches.
What I observed tonight, was more or less in line with my CRU observations in Toledo, with some differences in details. There were some loud rock songs in the beginning (by a highly diverse band, made up of whites, blacks and Asians), a truly black gospel choir (I have to say this was the only part that I really enjoyed), a conversion story by a born-again former sinner, some prayers, a speaker (who also happened to be a born-again former sinner), some more prayers, some more rock songs and then ending with mass high-fives.
As a former(?) engineer, I have a strong sense of professionalism about everything. In the same way that I don't approve of somebody lacking education in engineering, suddenly deciding to design the control system for a powerplant, I cannot stand something like religion, which is not less sophisticated than engineering, being treated less professionally. And I feel annoyed when people who don't have a good education or understanding in religion, decide to jump the bandwagon.
Be it secular intellectuals who know nothing about internal dynamics of religion (because they have not experienced or understood it or both) and just feel like giving their analysis on this complicated subject. Or evangelists whose understanding of their faith is mostly limited to sensations and emotions. And well, life-changing stories.
I don't know why these evangelists feel compelled to make up stories about an ultimate sinful life, turning abruptly to Jesus and then deciding to dedicate themselves to spreading the good news. Seriously, I'm eager to meet an evangelist who has not gone through the same old routine. I want somebody who has had a straight life, following in the footsteps of Jesus over his lifetime before deciding to dedicate himself to Jesus in words. But maybe, such a straight ordinary life is not inspiring enough for the purpose of evangelism.
And what annoys me even more is how some of these evangelists believe their highly animated stories could really be life-changing to somebody with a fair share of IQ. I can think of my post on Conversion from Islam to Christianity which was a reaction to one of those stories. The author of that 13-page testimony, purporting to be a former devout Muslim terrorist, turned Christian, was clueless about some basics of Islam. I guess he had got his understanding about Islam by reading some of those novels. I find such conversion stories more than anything an offense to the intellectual capacities of the reader.
And the speaker for tonight who has been living in Spain for over 20 years, had one of those inspiring stories. Basically, he preaches the word of God by way of standing on top of boxes (accompanied by his buddies) and shouting and singing to people in one of the busiest squares of Madrid, where prostitutes and homosexuals do their business on one side and government offices and mayors (sic) work on the other side of the square.
He once happened to catch the attention of an Arab diplomat who just happened to pass by one of his box-top sermons in that busy square. And that Arab diplomat was so fascinated by his words that he gave him his business card and persistently invited him to the embassy. And just after 2 hours of incessant private tutoring (and I can imagine the nature of that 2 hour session), that Arab diplomat got to know Jesus and why this nice evangelist guy was a Christian instead of being a Muslim. Quite a story.
At one point in his speech, he was trying to use the robe of righteousness as a metaphor for salvation that you get when you come to Jesus. To make his point more visual and hence more understandable to anybody, he used his younger daughter (who was in her late teens I guess) as a learning tool. He had her dress herself in a white robe with some gold embroidery and brought her on stage. Then, he realized it was not a good idea and ordered her to sit down, because everybody was looking at her instead of him (sic). And by the end of his passionate sermon, when he came back to his metaphor and summoned his daughter back to stage, he had her face the wall instead of the audience.
Seriously, I'm not sure how deep and thoughtful is the faith you get through such meetings. Fortunately, I already have Jesus in my heart without being in need of such visual metaphors or relying on emotions and sensations. Jesus is the light of God and His very Spirit and Word sent to the world. He certainly doesn’t need inefficient advertisement of this sort. And even if one chooses to be a Christian, I guess going to a church and listening to a pastor with sound education in theology and divinity would be a better choice.
I've had most of my pre-college schooling (grades 3 through 12) in Alavi School, an elite evangelical Islamic one. And on top of their excellent education in math, physics, computer and stuff, they trained us in evangelizing people. And I do mean it, training. It's long since I've given up debating religion with people to prove the superiority of my beliefs (that's the main goal of all evangelists, Christian or Muslim or whatever). While I still hold firmly to my religious convictions as a Muslim, I find such debates a waste of time and more than seeking truth, asserting one's ego or vanity (my belief, my faith, my truth, my whatever).
But when I compare the quality evangelization training I received in Alavi school (which was deeply based on theology and philosophy) with some of the stories I read or hear from evangelicals here or the methods they use to drive their point home, I mostly feel pity for these guys. So long for professionalism in religion.
Another thing that drew me to this event was my curiosity to have a look at the makeup, number and diversity of SIU students who might have some interest in faith. Especially, after my disappointing comparison of Justice or Porn. Looking at the number, it appears that faith fares no better than justice among SIU students. Even the big incentive of a free dinner at the end of this once-a-semester big event didn't succeed to bring as many students as Ron Jeremy did for his porn debate.
Although as the saying goes, there's no such thing as a free lunch (or dinner); you had to first feed your soul through listening to all sort of life-changing stories, before tending to your stomach. And near the end of this 2 hour worship (quite lengthy for a collegiate worship event), many students left the ballroom for the lounge to enjoy all sort of sandwiches, cookies and stuff.
And I learned another thing about dynamics of evangelism when you're in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having attended the international coffee hour in our ISS lounge, I had noticed evangelists engaging international students in conversations over coffee and yummies. And talking to one of their converts, I got a better understanding of how these guys do their business here.
When you're stuck in a depressing hellhole like Carbondale, cast away from your country, family, culture and everything you had back there and when you have absolutely nothing to amuse yourself with here, you gradually feel desperate for some socializing. I've reflected on this issue in a previous post on a sense of community. And when you don't find a community nearby matching your culture, you begin to feel a sense of identity confusion (even if you're not a teen).
And that's where evangelists drop by to fill the gap for you. They offer you a new identity, a substitute identity which makes you feel compatible and hence comfortable with your surrounding. And then, you blend in and become part of the new community. And in the process, you adopt a new faith and learn about a new love that you didn't know before.
Whenever I go to a place for my research where evangelists are busy marketing their commodity, I feel uncomfortable and I usually have to keep my distance. Generally, I have a low opinion about marketers of any commodity, especially pushy ones. Even when I go to a store with the explicit intent of buying something, I try to stay away from sales assistants who insist on helping me.
And as I've become somehow familiar (and fed up) with opening lines of these marketers of faith, I usually have a hard time keeping cool answering their ice-breaking questions. Such questions may sound innocuous to an innocent untrained ear but my experience has taught me that these questions would lead to a theology debate where the intent of the initiator is not improving his understanding; rather, pushing his absolute truth in a cocky way. And this aversion about pushy marketers sometimes makes me behave arrogantly.
When the worship service finished and we went to the lounge for dinner and fellowship, I was busy doing my job, looking around to get a sense of the demography of attendees. And as these marketers of faith assume anybody is by default a lost sheep or in danger of being lost, their ice-breaking soon embarks on the main objective, trying to save the sheep. And what really turns me off, is the patronizing language and voice they use as if they're talking to a little lost kid (even when they're not actually older than me).
From time to time, people would approach this looking-around bearded supposedly shy guy, trying to invite me to their church to find the answers to my questions (that I had not even asked). And the common denominator of all ice-breaking dialogs: Where are you from? How do you feel in Carbondale? Don't you feel lonely here?
And in order to prevent the conversation from rolling into a theology debate (as had happened before, when I was inexperienced with these marketers), I had to make it clear outright that I was there as a sociologist doing some sort of field research.
And in one instance, a pastor was more explicit in mentioning that they have students from thirty countries in their church and invited me on board to have a sense of community with other international students. And I had to emphasize that I would love continuing my research as I did in Toledo, but my busy schedule in grad school has made me a home-campus-home zombie. And apparently, repeating the word research in an arrogant way didn't seem to impress him much to accept the fact that I was not a lost sheep. He sufficed to give me his Email and church address.
But not all marketers give up so easily. I remember another evangelist pastor (whom I'd met in the Student Center at the beginning of semester) who kept emailing me to invite me to their church. And apparently all the excuses that I made did not impress him until I mentioned that I couldn't come to their church over Ramadhan and hopefully I would visit them sometime after the month of fasting was over.
Now that I think about it, maybe the quantity-oriented approach of my PhD program and their overbearing load of readings should not be blamed for my keeping away from field research here. Maybe, in the back of my unconscious mind, I've been actually trying to avoid such marketing efforts in a small town in the middle of nowhere.
However, since I've landed in Carbondale, I've got so stuck with my home-campus-home routine that I think I've become a zombie (and that's when my brain gets free enough to think about anything). As one of my friends jokes about it, just going to Kroger for grocery shopping is our weekend breakaway. Quite a life.
Then, I saw this flyer advertising for a worship service on campus: One Faith. And ironically, it was in the same Student Center ball-room where Ron Jeremy and Pastor Gross had their porn debate a few weeks ago. And I felt curious to see the quality and attendance of such an event in such a party-land that is SIU on a party-night that is Friday night.
It was a joint worship service by all sort of ministries on-campus (and off-campus). The name, One Faith, was catchy. But what drew me to the event was my boredom with a life that is all about reading unreasonable loads of readings over a very short time without getting a deep understanding, writing summaries and so on, ad infinitum. I've switched to Sociology to enjoy my life doing field observations. I could've stayed in my job as an engineer and just read sociology books and articles. And a PhD program should be about quality of reading, not just quantity. Anyway.
When I was in Toledo, I had gone to a couple of worship services on campus. They were mostly Campus Crusade for Christ (CRU). And I have to say I was not impressed so much. To be honest, these CRU meetings helped me get a better idea about spirituality on campus, or may I say, collegiate spirituality. But I found these youthful collegiate worships to be laden with emotion, shallow in spirituality and malnourished in theology. And after a while, I preferred to spend my field observation time in a more efficient way, mostly in churches.
What I observed tonight, was more or less in line with my CRU observations in Toledo, with some differences in details. There were some loud rock songs in the beginning (by a highly diverse band, made up of whites, blacks and Asians), a truly black gospel choir (I have to say this was the only part that I really enjoyed), a conversion story by a born-again former sinner, some prayers, a speaker (who also happened to be a born-again former sinner), some more prayers, some more rock songs and then ending with mass high-fives.
As a former(?) engineer, I have a strong sense of professionalism about everything. In the same way that I don't approve of somebody lacking education in engineering, suddenly deciding to design the control system for a powerplant, I cannot stand something like religion, which is not less sophisticated than engineering, being treated less professionally. And I feel annoyed when people who don't have a good education or understanding in religion, decide to jump the bandwagon.
Be it secular intellectuals who know nothing about internal dynamics of religion (because they have not experienced or understood it or both) and just feel like giving their analysis on this complicated subject. Or evangelists whose understanding of their faith is mostly limited to sensations and emotions. And well, life-changing stories.
I don't know why these evangelists feel compelled to make up stories about an ultimate sinful life, turning abruptly to Jesus and then deciding to dedicate themselves to spreading the good news. Seriously, I'm eager to meet an evangelist who has not gone through the same old routine. I want somebody who has had a straight life, following in the footsteps of Jesus over his lifetime before deciding to dedicate himself to Jesus in words. But maybe, such a straight ordinary life is not inspiring enough for the purpose of evangelism.
And what annoys me even more is how some of these evangelists believe their highly animated stories could really be life-changing to somebody with a fair share of IQ. I can think of my post on Conversion from Islam to Christianity which was a reaction to one of those stories. The author of that 13-page testimony, purporting to be a former devout Muslim terrorist, turned Christian, was clueless about some basics of Islam. I guess he had got his understanding about Islam by reading some of those novels. I find such conversion stories more than anything an offense to the intellectual capacities of the reader.
And the speaker for tonight who has been living in Spain for over 20 years, had one of those inspiring stories. Basically, he preaches the word of God by way of standing on top of boxes (accompanied by his buddies) and shouting and singing to people in one of the busiest squares of Madrid, where prostitutes and homosexuals do their business on one side and government offices and mayors (sic) work on the other side of the square.
He once happened to catch the attention of an Arab diplomat who just happened to pass by one of his box-top sermons in that busy square. And that Arab diplomat was so fascinated by his words that he gave him his business card and persistently invited him to the embassy. And just after 2 hours of incessant private tutoring (and I can imagine the nature of that 2 hour session), that Arab diplomat got to know Jesus and why this nice evangelist guy was a Christian instead of being a Muslim. Quite a story.
At one point in his speech, he was trying to use the robe of righteousness as a metaphor for salvation that you get when you come to Jesus. To make his point more visual and hence more understandable to anybody, he used his younger daughter (who was in her late teens I guess) as a learning tool. He had her dress herself in a white robe with some gold embroidery and brought her on stage. Then, he realized it was not a good idea and ordered her to sit down, because everybody was looking at her instead of him (sic). And by the end of his passionate sermon, when he came back to his metaphor and summoned his daughter back to stage, he had her face the wall instead of the audience.
Seriously, I'm not sure how deep and thoughtful is the faith you get through such meetings. Fortunately, I already have Jesus in my heart without being in need of such visual metaphors or relying on emotions and sensations. Jesus is the light of God and His very Spirit and Word sent to the world. He certainly doesn’t need inefficient advertisement of this sort. And even if one chooses to be a Christian, I guess going to a church and listening to a pastor with sound education in theology and divinity would be a better choice.
I've had most of my pre-college schooling (grades 3 through 12) in Alavi School, an elite evangelical Islamic one. And on top of their excellent education in math, physics, computer and stuff, they trained us in evangelizing people. And I do mean it, training. It's long since I've given up debating religion with people to prove the superiority of my beliefs (that's the main goal of all evangelists, Christian or Muslim or whatever). While I still hold firmly to my religious convictions as a Muslim, I find such debates a waste of time and more than seeking truth, asserting one's ego or vanity (my belief, my faith, my truth, my whatever).
But when I compare the quality evangelization training I received in Alavi school (which was deeply based on theology and philosophy) with some of the stories I read or hear from evangelicals here or the methods they use to drive their point home, I mostly feel pity for these guys. So long for professionalism in religion.
Another thing that drew me to this event was my curiosity to have a look at the makeup, number and diversity of SIU students who might have some interest in faith. Especially, after my disappointing comparison of Justice or Porn. Looking at the number, it appears that faith fares no better than justice among SIU students. Even the big incentive of a free dinner at the end of this once-a-semester big event didn't succeed to bring as many students as Ron Jeremy did for his porn debate.
Although as the saying goes, there's no such thing as a free lunch (or dinner); you had to first feed your soul through listening to all sort of life-changing stories, before tending to your stomach. And near the end of this 2 hour worship (quite lengthy for a collegiate worship event), many students left the ballroom for the lounge to enjoy all sort of sandwiches, cookies and stuff.
And I learned another thing about dynamics of evangelism when you're in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having attended the international coffee hour in our ISS lounge, I had noticed evangelists engaging international students in conversations over coffee and yummies. And talking to one of their converts, I got a better understanding of how these guys do their business here.
When you're stuck in a depressing hellhole like Carbondale, cast away from your country, family, culture and everything you had back there and when you have absolutely nothing to amuse yourself with here, you gradually feel desperate for some socializing. I've reflected on this issue in a previous post on a sense of community. And when you don't find a community nearby matching your culture, you begin to feel a sense of identity confusion (even if you're not a teen).
And that's where evangelists drop by to fill the gap for you. They offer you a new identity, a substitute identity which makes you feel compatible and hence comfortable with your surrounding. And then, you blend in and become part of the new community. And in the process, you adopt a new faith and learn about a new love that you didn't know before.
Whenever I go to a place for my research where evangelists are busy marketing their commodity, I feel uncomfortable and I usually have to keep my distance. Generally, I have a low opinion about marketers of any commodity, especially pushy ones. Even when I go to a store with the explicit intent of buying something, I try to stay away from sales assistants who insist on helping me.
And as I've become somehow familiar (and fed up) with opening lines of these marketers of faith, I usually have a hard time keeping cool answering their ice-breaking questions. Such questions may sound innocuous to an innocent untrained ear but my experience has taught me that these questions would lead to a theology debate where the intent of the initiator is not improving his understanding; rather, pushing his absolute truth in a cocky way. And this aversion about pushy marketers sometimes makes me behave arrogantly.
When the worship service finished and we went to the lounge for dinner and fellowship, I was busy doing my job, looking around to get a sense of the demography of attendees. And as these marketers of faith assume anybody is by default a lost sheep or in danger of being lost, their ice-breaking soon embarks on the main objective, trying to save the sheep. And what really turns me off, is the patronizing language and voice they use as if they're talking to a little lost kid (even when they're not actually older than me).
From time to time, people would approach this looking-around bearded supposedly shy guy, trying to invite me to their church to find the answers to my questions (that I had not even asked). And the common denominator of all ice-breaking dialogs: Where are you from? How do you feel in Carbondale? Don't you feel lonely here?
And in order to prevent the conversation from rolling into a theology debate (as had happened before, when I was inexperienced with these marketers), I had to make it clear outright that I was there as a sociologist doing some sort of field research.
And in one instance, a pastor was more explicit in mentioning that they have students from thirty countries in their church and invited me on board to have a sense of community with other international students. And I had to emphasize that I would love continuing my research as I did in Toledo, but my busy schedule in grad school has made me a home-campus-home zombie. And apparently, repeating the word research in an arrogant way didn't seem to impress him much to accept the fact that I was not a lost sheep. He sufficed to give me his Email and church address.
But not all marketers give up so easily. I remember another evangelist pastor (whom I'd met in the Student Center at the beginning of semester) who kept emailing me to invite me to their church. And apparently all the excuses that I made did not impress him until I mentioned that I couldn't come to their church over Ramadhan and hopefully I would visit them sometime after the month of fasting was over.
Now that I think about it, maybe the quantity-oriented approach of my PhD program and their overbearing load of readings should not be blamed for my keeping away from field research here. Maybe, in the back of my unconscious mind, I've been actually trying to avoid such marketing efforts in a small town in the middle of nowhere.
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