Journey Church

I-35 and Tecumseh Rd., Norman

“Worship Experience” times: Sundays at 8:15, 9:30, 11:15 and 5:30

If this write-up is a bit boring, it may be because “boring” is the word I would use to describe my visit to Journey Church. (In the interest of full disclosure, I was a bit tired and hung over that particular morning, and not in the best of moods to start with.) I’m just tired of the churches that try to wow you with style rather than substance. Essentially a rerun of my trip to New Life Bible Church a while back, my Journey Church “experience” was very underwhelming, despite all the pizzazz they tried to throw at me.

I entered into a massive lobby, furnished with bistro tables and sofas. Before me, lay a giant spread of donuts, alongside metal troughs filled with soda and bottled water. I poured myself a cup of coffee (I do love the free coffee) and watched people enter as I waited for my friend to arrive.

Like New Life, the majority of Journey Churchers are young-ish, many appearing to be high school or college-aged. Very preppy, very clean-cut, very Christian-looking, young people.

Also like New Life, the service (“worship experience” as they’re called at Journey Church) was held in a giant auditorium, complete with stage, band and light show. The best thing I can say about my “experience” is that the band was actually quite good, especially the fiddler. We’d apparently visited on Bluegrass Day, or so said the pastor. This is good, I thought. I like bluegrass. However, only the first song was really bluegrass – subsequent songs devolved into a blander, “Christian contemporary” style. But I digress.

Journey Church’s pastor, Clark Mitchell, was another one of those “trying to connect with the youth” types. Loud, hyper, casually dressed. He claimed to have “killed his voice” during an earlier sermon (there are three Sunday morning worship experiences and another one Sunday evening), so we watched the videotape of the earlier, voice-killing sermon. “This feels weird,” whispered my friend. “We’re watching him preach on video, but he’s sitting right there.”

I agreed.

Journey Church is another non-denominational church that tries to appeal to the broadest possible audience, at the expense of feeling rather empty and watered down. The sermon’s message was about leaving one’s comfort zone to chase the impossible dream. Good enough message, but duh. Not exactly revelatory material. A good part of the sermon was spent dealing with Mr. Mitchell’s own “impossible dream” – that is, starting up Journey Church. Which leads me to my biggest problem with these kinds of churches – they seem peculiarly concerned with raising money, and they’re a little too vague about where the money is spent.

Every church I’ve ever attended has had some sort of offering – at some point, the basket gets passed around and congregants throw in some change or a few dollars. There’s nothing unusual about that. But at these kinds of large churches, there seems to be an extra emphasis on “giving.” Journey Church’s website even has a section called “The Great Investment,” which explains why (and more importantly, how) one can donate.

But, I would like to know what happens to my donated funds. Am I paying for the light show? The bottled water and donuts? The full-color bulletin? How much of the money goes to charitable causes?

I was also puzzled by a flyer I found inserted into this week’s bulletin. It was for what appeared to be some kind of leadership conference – “The Influence Index: Increasing A Leader’s True Value.” As I read on, I soon deduced that it was simply a simulcast, one that cost $50 to attend (if you register early, that is – if you register the day of the event, the price jumps up to $70). So you want me to pay $50 for the privilege of watching a video of people speaking thousands of miles away? Seriously?

After visiting a couple of these megachurches, I, surprisingly, find myself more at the conservative, traditional end of the spectrum. I would actually prefer a church in which I may be offended and disgusted by the sermon, to a church with bland, watered-down pop spirituality. I want some substance, even if I violently disagree with the nature of the substance. At places like Journey Church, the sermons sometime seem like just a bunch of words with no real depth or meaning behind them. I’d also rather attend a church that raised money to help the poor, not to pay for their big, flashy auditorium.

To me, these New Life/Journey Churches seem to serve a social function more than a religious one. It’s almost like it’s a big clubhouse, where Christians go to be around other Christians. But to be fair, these megachurches do seem to have many small groups, where people of similar ages and backgrounds meet up for the three F’s: “food, fun and fellowship.” Maybe this is where the hardcore religious stuff takes place – the debates and discussions, the spiritual growth. Or perhaps it’s just another social event. I don’t know. But I’m ready to move on to another type of church.