Acres of parking lot swarmed with parents chasing children between cars, individuals clutching a bible under one arm, and couples walking, hand-in-hand. All of them made their way toward the main entrance. The people moved with confidence. They walked at an even pace, knowing their destination. It was Sunday and they were going to church.

Giant, white, smiles, strong handshakes, hugs, carefully designed bulletins and a red carpet met the incoming crowd at the large, open doors. A visitor’s center, book store, coffee shop and roller coaster filled the lobby. Once inside, parents meandered through a maze of hallways and deposited their children in Sunday school classrooms. The typical next step involved the purchase of a couple of lattes before going to the sanctuary for the service.

The same crowd from the parking lot grazed around the auditorium hunting for seats that fit their taste. Some found what they wanted, others had to abandon their quest and plopped down at the nearest cushioned spot (with cup-holder) when the house lights dimmed. Giant screens lit up with the faces of a young man and woman who cordially welcomed everyone to church. Immediately after, the screens went black along with the rest of the auditorium.

Crowd blinders popped once, again, and continued to flash, going faster every second and revealed silhouettes. The worship band had appeared. Green, blue and yellow lights gradually grew brighter until the stage was completely lit. Confetti dropped from the forty-foot ceiling and the music began. The bass rattled, the guitar solos squealed and the band hopped around, gesticulating while they played. Lyrics displayed on the screens and a ball bounced from word to word in time with the song.

This went on for about forty-five minutes before the pastor shot out of a trap door in the floor and miraculously landed on his feet. A single bright spotlight illuminated the man, and kept him at its center. This seemed to be an amazing feat as the speaker never held still and at one point charged down the thirty or so stairs from the stage to the crowd, pleading that they listen to him and take his message to heart.

This, friends is American church.

★                     ★                     ★

One twelfth of one seventh of seven days amounts to one eighty-fourth of the week. That’s two hours that provides most individuals with an impression of a community of believers and their beliefs. For those who don’t know Jesus, they’ll probably make assumptions about Him based on the experience, too. Funny enough, not a lot of churches have two-hour services, so that impression lands in an even smaller time slot.

A church is so much more than its pastor, bulletins, lobby, sanctuary, videos, lights and band. A church is  a different beast the other days of the week. Unfortunately, American churches place a lot of emphasis on their Sunday services.

People have to get to church.

I love the media. I eat up the busyness of a Sunday. I’m glad the Church got with it and learned how to be hip but I’m realizing and hoping others get it too, that you have to get between Sundays in order to know and understand a church’s doctrine, community impact and the change it’s enforcing in believers’ lives.

So please, don’t judge until you’ve gone a little deeper.

Even if the service has live animals and fire in it.