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What Happens When Preachers and Deacons Go Clubbin'?
11/12/04
Roosevelt Wright, Jr.
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I haven?t been clubbing in over 30 years. Imagine my surprise in recent weekends as I visited a few local clubs and saw what I wasn?t supposed to see.
What was I doing in the local clubs? Looking for you!
Usually when churches have revival we spend big dollars to bring in a big time speaker who usually rakes in about $1,000 or more for three nights work and all the food he can take home afterwards. We post announcements with other churches, in the religious section of the newspaper and on the religious radio stations.
It?s obvious that we want church folks to come to the revival.
We get to wave our hands, stomp our feet. We enjoy the great preaching and singing. We have a good time and fool ourselves like we have actually been seeking the lost. That?s how we explain the cost. In reality, we spend thousands of dollars each year for Gospel entertainment in the name of revival.
Gospel entertainment has its place, but it?s certainly should not be confused with revival.
What would happen if all of the preachers, deacons, choir members, ushers and church folk would actually descend on the local clubs one night?
They might find what we found at Tabernacle when we did just that. We found a whole lot of church people among the crowds in local juke joints.
There were looks of surprise when some looked up and saw a church pastor, deacon and ministers coming into a juke joint.
One man who instantly recognized me, had his arm snuggly wrapped around a woman at table and almost choked.
?What the F?are you doing here?? He asked.
?What are you doing here is a better question. I?m looking for you.?
His next statement was loudly spoken in an inebriated breath, but nevertheless profound, ?I know you suppose to talk about going after the lost on Sunday, but you?re not suppose to really do it.!?
He then proceeded to warn everyone in the club that there was a preacher in the house.
He called me the next day to say, our presence was a real shocker and had disturbed him all day. ?It made me think.?
We went from club to club, paid our entrance fee and moved through the crowds passing out a little card that said, ?If tonight is the night that God chooses to visit you, would he be pleased with where he found you, what you are doing right now, and what you planning to do later on tonight??
One woman read the card on a dance floor and was convicted. She stopped dancing, got her purse and left, visibly upset.
I recognized a few young church people at a club in North Monroe and old church people at a watering hole in Booker T. I saw a few others at a Berg Jones Lane night spot.
The parking lots were full, despite a driving rain one night.
Some tried to explain to us why they were there. The words never came out right.
I wondered how many of those same church folk would attend a Sunday church service if they had to pay to get in, the lights were out, there was thick smoke in the air, trash on the floor, and the smell of intoxication everywhere.
I saw what I wasn?t supposed to see. I saw the other life of some people who attend our local churches. I saw two lives that are kept separate and distinct because preachers, deacons and Sunday School teachers are supposed to stay in their place as ?church folk? stay in their place.
It?s the same two lives I led when I was a young college student showing up at Tabernacle on Sunday and cutting the rug at the Town and Country or the Den on Winnsboro Road.
I kept those two lives separate until one day they clashed. One had to go.
Early, Sunday morning we were still out in the clubs passing out cards seeing what we were not supposed to see. What we saw were honest people, having what they considered to be a good time. They were not breaking any laws or being disruptive. They were just ?out.?
Many of them switch back and forth between the clubs at night and church on Sunday morning, until they finally fail to show up at one or the other.
Until they finally decide, they simply play the game.
We made the mistake of appearing in a way that caused both of their lives to clash. We broke the rule. Revival is supposed to mean Gospel Entertainment, not seeking the lost of the backslidden.
The words of the inebriated man still ring in my ears:
?I know you supposed to talk about going after the lost on Sunday, but you?re not supposed to really do it.!?
What an indictment!
11/12/04
Roosevelt Wright, Jr.
Respond to this story
Email this story to a friend
I haven?t been clubbing in over 30 years. Imagine my surprise in recent weekends as I visited a few local clubs and saw what I wasn?t supposed to see.
What was I doing in the local clubs? Looking for you!
Usually when churches have revival we spend big dollars to bring in a big time speaker who usually rakes in about $1,000 or more for three nights work and all the food he can take home afterwards. We post announcements with other churches, in the religious section of the newspaper and on the religious radio stations.
It?s obvious that we want church folks to come to the revival.
We get to wave our hands, stomp our feet. We enjoy the great preaching and singing. We have a good time and fool ourselves like we have actually been seeking the lost. That?s how we explain the cost. In reality, we spend thousands of dollars each year for Gospel entertainment in the name of revival.
Gospel entertainment has its place, but it?s certainly should not be confused with revival.
What would happen if all of the preachers, deacons, choir members, ushers and church folk would actually descend on the local clubs one night?
They might find what we found at Tabernacle when we did just that. We found a whole lot of church people among the crowds in local juke joints.
There were looks of surprise when some looked up and saw a church pastor, deacon and ministers coming into a juke joint.
One man who instantly recognized me, had his arm snuggly wrapped around a woman at table and almost choked.
?What the F?are you doing here?? He asked.
?What are you doing here is a better question. I?m looking for you.?
His next statement was loudly spoken in an inebriated breath, but nevertheless profound, ?I know you suppose to talk about going after the lost on Sunday, but you?re not suppose to really do it.!?
He then proceeded to warn everyone in the club that there was a preacher in the house.
He called me the next day to say, our presence was a real shocker and had disturbed him all day. ?It made me think.?
We went from club to club, paid our entrance fee and moved through the crowds passing out a little card that said, ?If tonight is the night that God chooses to visit you, would he be pleased with where he found you, what you are doing right now, and what you planning to do later on tonight??
One woman read the card on a dance floor and was convicted. She stopped dancing, got her purse and left, visibly upset.
I recognized a few young church people at a club in North Monroe and old church people at a watering hole in Booker T. I saw a few others at a Berg Jones Lane night spot.
The parking lots were full, despite a driving rain one night.
Some tried to explain to us why they were there. The words never came out right.
I wondered how many of those same church folk would attend a Sunday church service if they had to pay to get in, the lights were out, there was thick smoke in the air, trash on the floor, and the smell of intoxication everywhere.
I saw what I wasn?t supposed to see. I saw the other life of some people who attend our local churches. I saw two lives that are kept separate and distinct because preachers, deacons and Sunday School teachers are supposed to stay in their place as ?church folk? stay in their place.
It?s the same two lives I led when I was a young college student showing up at Tabernacle on Sunday and cutting the rug at the Town and Country or the Den on Winnsboro Road.
I kept those two lives separate until one day they clashed. One had to go.
Early, Sunday morning we were still out in the clubs passing out cards seeing what we were not supposed to see. What we saw were honest people, having what they considered to be a good time. They were not breaking any laws or being disruptive. They were just ?out.?
Many of them switch back and forth between the clubs at night and church on Sunday morning, until they finally fail to show up at one or the other.
Until they finally decide, they simply play the game.
We made the mistake of appearing in a way that caused both of their lives to clash. We broke the rule. Revival is supposed to mean Gospel Entertainment, not seeking the lost of the backslidden.
The words of the inebriated man still ring in my ears:
?I know you supposed to talk about going after the lost on Sunday, but you?re not supposed to really do it.!?
What an indictment!
