Posts Tagged by church growth

Rebecca Chance was homeschooled from first grade until high school, when she entered Wynfield Christian Academy. She is graduating this year as Valedictorian of her class. She loves acting and writing and someday hopes to publish her own book series. This year she will be entering Macon State College where she hopes to earn a degree in Digital Media, and work in the film industry after graduating.

To contact Rebecca Chance you may request her contact information through the contest administrators by sending an email to director@athanatosministries.org.

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THE DISSENTERS

by Rebecca Chance

Copyright 2010, All Rights Reserved

He entered the lobby with an air of uncertainty. This was the largest church he had ever visited and there was a strange feeling in the atmosphere, but he was unable to determine the cause of it. The sign outside had read “The Fellowship”; that name sounded pleasant and inviting.

As he entered the doors to the main lobby, he immediately was greeted by two handsomely dressed men and the overwhelming smell of freshly brewed coffee. He glanced to his left, to find the source of the smell, and saw a small cafe selling coffee and hot chocolate. Though the invitation was enticing because of the cool weather, he declined the temptation and walked straight toward the sanctuary doors.

On either side of the lobby were other kiosks in addition to the coffee shop. A small book store caught his attention. Posted in one of the windows of the store was a poster that advertised a local rock concert to be held that upcoming weekend. He huffed softly and headed straight into the sanctuary.

Many people greeted him warmly as he entered the large room. He smiled back at them and took the bulletin that he was offered. The first thing he noticed upon entering the sanctuary was the carpet—something that normally would not interest him, but this case was a peculiarity. The room was divided into five sections, each one designated by a different color carpet.

He excused this from his thoughts for the moment and purposed to find a place to sit.

An usher appeared as if from thin air and smiled warmly at him, “Good morning, sir. Do you need help finding a seat?”

“Actually, yes.” The man looked to his right and left.

“What color do you like to sit in?”

The man stared back at him, struggling to reply, “Um . . .” He cleared his throat. “Does the color of carpet honestly matter?” The usher gave him a startled look.

“Most certainly, sir!” He replied quickly, “We want everyone to be comfortable here so that’s why we have different sections.”

“Why?” The usher appeared even more confused.

“Why what?”

“Why does it matter if people do not like the carpet?”

The usher cleared his throat nervously, “Sir, please. This is rather important for the Fellowship. See, the church nearly split a few years ago because there was a dissention because of the colors.”

The word “dissention” sparked the man’s interest, “Oh, I am dreadfully sorry then. Well, I suppose I will sit in the red section.”

“Very well then.” The usher led him to an empty seat in the red section of the church, then left him.

He sat down and read the bulletin he had received upon entering the room. Noticing that the pastor’s sermon had been outlined for the congregation to read, he glanced over it and shook his head. The things they say these days . . . I am embarrassed they call themselves leaders of the church, he thought.

Sighing softly, he began to look around the room. After he estimated that the sanctuary had nearly 3,000 seats in it, he began to inspect them with much curiosity. When he had first sat down he noted that the chairs were unlike anything he had ever witnessed in a church before. They were very plush and had double armrests between each pair. In addition, each seat had a cup holder. Because of the coffee shop, I suppose. . . .

It was nearly time for the service to begin now. Half a dozen people were on the stage area at the front of the room. The man guessed correctly that they composed the worship band of the church. One man, who appeared to be in his mid-thirties and wore jeans and a plain t-shirt, seemed to be in charge of the others.

Just before the band started, a young lady came and sat down next to him. He smiled politely at her, “Good morning.”

“Morning.” She replied softly. She seemed to be studying him, trying to recognize him. He decided to help her out a bit.

“I’m a visitor here today. First time visitor.”

“Oh!” the young lady offered her hand to him and smiled, “welcome to the Fellowship!” He smiled and shook her hand. She had such a sweet spirit around her that he could not help but smile.

“Thank you, miss—”

“Jessica Wood. You can call me Jessie. And you are?”

“Matthew.” He nodded once. “Simply Matthew, if you please.”

“All right, Matthew.” He noticed that she was blushing slightly and he did his best to suppress a chuckle. He had received responses like that at every church he went to. Normally, before the service had begun, he would have drawn the attention of multiple young ladies; something that he ignored and rather wished did not happen. He was not there to gain attention; he had another purpose in mind.

She was staring at him now. Clearing his throat once, he turned and looked at the stage once again. The band members were all in their places. Along with the leader who seemed to also play guitar, there was an electric guitarist, two more vocalists, a keyboardist, and a drummer. Seems like a normal contemporary band, he thought without much concern.

He shivered, still feeling her gaze. “Miss Jessica, if you continue to stare, I might be required to move.” He glanced at her and witnessed her turning bright red.

“I uh—” She was stuttering, ashamed that he had noticed. “I was just wondering if you’re from around here—”

“No, I am not.” He nodded once. Once again, he was used to responses like this. Most people thought he was Middle Eastern because of his tanned complexion, shining black hair, and deep brown eyes, but he was not.

“O-oh.” Jessica quickly turned her attention to the stage as the band began.

To Matthew’s surprise, the band opened the service by playing one of the top rock songs of the century. He hid his shock well, as he always did when he experienced such things at church. During the repulsive song, he turned his thoughts to other things.

He noticed a baptistery built into the front of the room, but the lights around it were dark and a banner was obscuring one side of it. Quietly, Matthew leaned back over to Jessica to ask about the abandoned fixture.

“Is that the baptistery?”

“Yes, but we don’t use it anymore.” Jessica nodded. “There hasn’t been any use for it for the past year or so. We don’t really believe that baptizing is necessary here.”

“I see.” Matthew asked another question, “Does anyone mind that you do not baptize?”

“No, not at all. Everyone’s really happy about it actually. See, it’s lowered the water bills so,” She shrugged, “not a big deal.” Matthew sighed and began to look around the room.

People mulled about at each entrance. They walked in and out as if they were at a movie theatre and this was merely the commercials before the show. In fact, the atmosphere of the room felt very much like a show. People ate concessions and sat in cushioned seats with plenty of elbow room so as to not bother their neighbors.

After the band finished the song, Matthew drew his attention back to the stage as the pastor began some announcements. The pastor was young, rather attractive, and wore clothing similar to that of the music leader.

“Good morning. Welcome to The Fellowship. We hope you will have an awesome day with us.”

Jessica leaned over and whispered, “This is our new pastor, Brother Richard.”

“‘New’ pastor?” He had heard rumors of what had happened to the last pastor and decided now was a good time to ask about the truth. “I heard that your last pastor left.”

“More like ‘kicked out.’” Jessica huffed in reply, “He was a radical—really weird ideas. People felt really uncomfortable when he preached so the people petitioned against him and the deacons fired him.” Matthew’s ears perked up at the word “radical.”

“I heard that he just preached the Bible though . . . what is so ‘weird’ about that?”

“He told people that they were going to hell if they didn’t repent. Heh. No one wants to hear junk like that anymore. And he refused to stop talking like that—so he’s gone.”

“Well, if that is what your ‘old’ preacher was like . . .” He looked up at the stage at the pastor and nodded towards the man. “What is he like?”

“Oh, Brother Richard is wonderful.” Jessica’s eyes lit up and she smiled beautifully. “He makes us all feel so loved and special. I can’t imagine what we’d be like without him. You know, since he came here, we’ve had so many visitors. And our membership has almost doubled!”

“Indeed. Impressive.” Matthew leaned away from her, expecting to end the conversation, but Jessica continued.

“I know you’ll just love him too.” Matthew glanced at her with an emotionless look. She continued smiling and turned back to look at the stage.

The pastor was just finishing up the announcements, “In the grand lobby we have refreshments, as most of you already know. The coffee shop will be open during the entire service and afterwards. Feel free to come and go as you need to. Also, remember to throw away any trash; please, do not leave it on the ground. This is God’s house so we want to keep it clean.” Matthew scoffed aloud but no one seemed to notice him. There is so much irony in that statement though these people probably believe it.

Heaving a sigh, Matthew shook his head. What has this world done with the truth? They are killing it! Just then, he heard the band start playing again. This time, they played a relatively Christian song and the congregation was prompted to stand and sing along. He stood, but did not sing. Instead, he looked around the room, sensing the spirit of the room changing.

People had their hands lifted in praise, they sang with all their hearts. Some swayed back and forth with the rhythm of the music while others kneeled down in honor of the One they claimed to worship and adore.

Counterfeit Christians, he thought, feeling pain in his heart. Everyone appeared happy, but Matthew could feel no joy in the entire room. There was a depressing feeling that threatened to suck the life out of him. It made him want to cry.

Suddenly, he realized something and tapped Jessica on the shoulder, “Miss, why are there no children here?” She smiled politely and waved with her hand towards the back of the room.

“They built a special building for the kids where they can play during the services. See, they were upsetting some of the older adults so we all figured it’d be better for them to just not be here.”

“Ah. . . .” As the song ended, he sat down with the rest of the congregation and turned his attention, once again, back to the stage. It was time for the pastor to preach now. Pastor Richard stepped up to the microphone and sat down on a stool provided for his comfort.

Matthew listened for awhile, but once the room was still, his mind wandered. Normally, he would pay attention to the sermon, but now he knew enough about Richard to realize that he was a hireling—someone who did not truly care for the eternal aspects of the lost; only what people thought of him.

Slowly closing his eyes, Matthew began to change his perspective from the physical to the spiritual aspects of this church, since that was what he had been sent to do. When he opened his eyes, he saw in shades of red and green. No longer did he see people by their physical appearance; he saw them in their spiritual light.

Shapeless forms floated where each person stood. Their spirits were lighter than the air surrounding them. Matthew’s heart sank in his chest when he realized how few green lights he saw. The spirits were mostly deep red or even black. The small few that were green were dark green, showing that these Christians had fallen away from the truth and cared not for what was holy. The red spirits were the ones damned to hell. Most of the spirits were still, appearing dead because of their apathy. Some of them were hollow and searching, their edges twitching nervously.

Matthew swallowed tightly. When he looked at himself, he saw a glowing, light blue spirit; a stark contrast to the darkness of the room. This explains the depression I feel. . . . Above and below him there were shadows formed by the darkness the room sheltered.

Now, for this acclaimed pastor . . . what does he— Matthew faltered as he stared at the pastor in this new light. A dark shadow hovered over the pastor. It was a horrid shape that clung desperately to the lost man’s spirit. The powerful demon stood his ground while its multiple arms flailed in an invisible wind gust. Two piercing eyes looked around nervously at the crowd. Ah, there you are . . . I knew I would find you—and I suppose you know I am here as well.

Slowly, the demon glanced over the crowd then froze, its eyes locking on the lone, blue spirit. Matthew took a quick breath, readying himself for whatever would happen next. A grin spread across the beast’s face.

“Well, well, isn’t this a change in the atmosphere.” It breathed out a sulfuric gasp.

“Indeed.” Matthew replied; both of their voices unheard in the physical realm. “Let me guess . . . Dissention? I’d recognize your stench anywhere.”

“Aw, I’m flattered. But rumors spread quickly, no? Or did you figure that out yourself, genius.” Matthew did not reply, but his spirit stood. No human could see him moving, only others in the spiritual realm. He walked straight up to the front of the room and hovered over the stage, eye to eye with the demon. The demon, Dissention, crawled upwards, still clinging to the captive spirit of the pastor. “Like my work here? It’s taken awhile thanks to that jerk your group planted here two decades ago.”

“I admit you have been busy. Your work can be seen across the entire world.”

“Mmhmm. My Prince has widened my land; broadened my horizons. My lust for control is growing still.”

“Predictable.” Matthew reached for his glowing sword that lay sheathed on his back. Just as his fingers brushed the hilt, fear flashed in Dissention’s eyes.

“Y-you can’t win them back though. Just look at all I’ve done.” The demon waved one of his slimy arms, pointing throughout the sanctuary at other dark figures like himself. There were dozens of demons covering every entrance and exit, waiting to get their claws into a human spirit.

“It took you long enough to show your ugly face here. I wondered if you had forgotten . . . or were scared”

Dissention shivered as he looked back up at Matthew. He spat a black, sulfuric cloud, “Hell’s taking it’s time—this is a huge country founded on principles from ‘your side.’ Naturally, I sent some friends ahead to lighten the load. These people would have refused me if I just showed up in all my glory. But do you honestly think that would keep me away from this great land? There’s so much good potential here that some doubted we could ever make things change in our favor, but this country is far too important to pass up.”

“You are correct when you say that this land is far too important to pass up.” Matthew drew his sword, “Hence the reason I am here.”

The demon raised a hand quickly as if to block a blow from the angel’s sword, “W-wait! Did you happen to notice the sign outside?”

“’The Fellowship’—I noticed it.” This small statement brought a smile to Dissention’s gruesome face.

“This used to be First Fellowship Church, but there were complaints and people urged the church office to change the name. You know, the word ‘church’ is offensive now-a-days. Also, all the crosses are gone. Those are offensive too.” Matthew remained silent so as to not encourage the demon’s egotistical monologue. “Also, notice the times and dates for these services? Wednesday nights have been canceled—more of my handiwork, that is. And I’ve guaranteed all of these naïve humans that the services will be one hour—exactly.” Dissention stroked the pastor’s spirit with one of his black claws. “I’ve gotten him to preach for just twenty-five minutes a service. He’s trained well and the people love him!” He laughed then became instantly silent as Matthew raised his sword.

“If I was not under specific directions from my leader I could . . . and would . . . extinguish the problems of this church.”

“Luckily for me then that your side is losing,” the demon chuckled nervously.

“A delayed victory is not a defeat, but is a greater triumph in the end.”

“Yes, but . . .” Dissention growled, a grin slowly forming on his ugly face, “for now, we are winning. This country has invited us here, with their sin and we’re taking over. They’ve damned themselves. They don’t want God anymore, so it’s our turn. Sin without conviction is what they’ve ordered, so we are merely here to deliver that. Before they even realize what’s happening, we will have taken over and unless there are major changes, they’ll have ruined their chances of escaping hell’s wrath.”

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