Wesley Newton

Church Name: Lawndale Christian Community Church (LCCC)

Church Address: 3827 W. Ogden Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60623

Date Attended: October 23

Describe the worship service you attended.  How was it similar to or different from your regular context?

“Everyday” space: My Anglican church is sunlit, spacious, and elegant.   In contrast, LCCC met in a dual-purpose, somewhat-dim, nearly-undecorated gym.  This inverted my theological aesthetics, but I realized that LCCC, too, creates sacred space.  My context emphasizes transcendence; LCCC stresses incarnation.  Immersive incarnation—descending a ramp below street level, one tangibly entered the heart of North Lawndale. The focal point was not a fenced-off altar or lectern, but rather a low platform placing Pastor Gordon vulnerably in the middle of the congregation.

“Informal” liturgy:  My Anglicanism prizes serene silence; LCCC undergirded a pastoral prayer with keyboard improvisation.  My tradition uses the Book of Common Prayer; LCCC extemporized intercessions.  My tradition spotlights priestly hierarchies; LCCC involved laypeople (even a young boy!) in Scripture reading, new-member initiation, and prayers.  Communion wasn’t celebrated that Sunday—the service centered less around sacrament and more around community call-to-action.  The order of the service was geared toward the pastoral and missional: praise songs, prayers, and Scripture readings all built toward the pastor’s Biblical teaching.  Even mysticism became dynamic.  Mourning fresh murders, their “soul shalom” prayers became, not a ritual, but a vital spiritual discipline.  Their service integrated into everyday life.  For instance, there was no official time for “the passing of the peace,” but the members warmly greeted me before and after the service. 

What did you find most interesting or appealing about the worship service?

I previously viewed Gospel music as superficially optimistic, but Lawndale showed me the cultural power of the genre.  Amid a neighborhood tallying 39 murders to date, their music exuded defiant hope.  While much Contemporary Christian music peacefully fades out, LCCC’s Gospel songs climaxed in cymbals and exultation.  Out-of-cultural-context, I heard the laid-back drumbeats of Gospel music as apathetic; in context, I heard the slow grooves as poignantly proclaiming peace.  Their songs didn’t ignore evil—one song desperately cried “I/we need you, God!”  Indeed, the mix of major and minor harmonies reminded me of Stephen Nichols on What Blues Music Teaches Us about Suffering and Salvation.  But, Gospel affirmation was dominant—“Yes!” must have been the most frequent word in the choir’s repertoire.  The congregation continued this affirmative mood with passionate responses throughout the pastor’s sermon.  

What did you find most disorienting or challenging about the worship service?

The service made me question how I “do theology.”  The sermon title was decidedly un-esoteric: “Miss Me with All That.”  At first, I suspected the homiletics as “topical teaching” supposedly inferior to “Scriptural exposition.”  Pastor Gordon’s preaching style was anecdotal, and his exegesis of Genesis 3 was almost allegorical (God’s response to Adam and Eve’s sin as an example for how we should react to others’ offenses).  It was initially unsettling to think of the Fall narrative less in abstract terms of soteriology and more in immediate terms of interpersonal relationships!  His very nickname, “Coach,” challenged my ideal of “Scholar-Pastors.”  However, LCCC defied simplistic stereotypes.  Amid crisis, one doesn’t have the luxury to fancifully separate theological theory from pastoral application!  The sermon may have been “topical,” but at over 50 minutes, it was no suburban sound-bite.  Pastor Gordon’s storytelling wasn’t entertainment but prophecy.  The congregation’s interjections showed that his message was hitting home.  

How did the service help you to reflect on questions of wealth and poverty?

First, this service made me reconsider the socioeconomics of the Church’s mission. While some may be skeptical of mixing evangelism and social work, Chicago’s spiraling murder rate gives James’ warning “faith without works is dead” new urgency.  LCCC’s street presence emphasizes learning, health, and youth centers, while understating “typical church activities.”  We passed by their health center before entering the sanctuary!  This holistic spirit shaped the service, with banners proclaiming “Loving God, Loving People” and “The Lawndale Miracle.”  The men in bright-blue “Hope House” t-shirts bore witness to transformed lives.  Many groups call themselves "Community Churches" as a marketing ploy; with LCCC, it truly expressed their purpose.  Second, this service made me reconsider the Church’s identity.  LCCC was neither well-dressed nor raggedly-dressed, neither all-black nor all-white (though dominantly African-American).  Rather, the service represented West-Side eclecticism.  This suggests that the Church shouldn’t identify only with wealth or only with poverty, but should rather relate the two.  Third, LCCC pursued community development while avoiding gentrification: its campus mixed old and new, redemption accomplished by refurbishment, not by replacement.