My Mars Hill Church experience

As some of you know, on my recent trip to Washington I visited Mars Hill Church in Seattle. This is my critique of it. I know that's somewhat lame, critiquing a church and church service, but there are a few who have asked about it, so here you go. If you know nothing about Mars Hill, it's where Mark Driscoll is the main preaching pastor. The church is considered one of the most influential in America and is one of, if not the, flagship church in the Acts 29 Network. Driscoll has a fair amount of popularity (or in some cases, notoriety) for his books and for throwing out some curse words from the pulpit (which I've heard he has repented of). In a recent NY Times piece on the resurgence of Calvinism, Driscoll was the man they picked to talk with about it. His openness about pornography, masturbation, sex and a host of other issues not often dealt with from the pulpit has given him somewhat of a cultic following. The only book of his I've read, Porn Again Christian, is available as a free download and was even a bit surprising to me (it's more of an article than a book, really quick read). You just don't hear the issues he addresses addressed anywhere else from a Christian worldview and perspective. So all of that is the baggage I had going into the service.

A little anecdote is worth telling here, since I think it shows the character of at least some of the Christians at Mars Hill. Before leaving Jackson, I had posted on facebook a short itinerary of my trip and mentioned that I was going to hear Driscoll preach. I got a message from a facebook friend (one of those people who you've never met and probably never spoken to, but have some thin tangent of connection to) saying that he typically preached in person at the Ballard campus. I assumed she went there, so I replied giving her my number (internet access isn't always a sure thing when road tripping, so I didn't know if I'd get her response even if she did send one) and saying we could meet up Saturday if she wanted. I got to Seattle early Saturday (I slept in a parking lot a little south of the city) and headed straight for my favorite place in any city, the public library (restroom facilities are usually pretty decent, the internet is high speed and free and it's a quiet, warm place to read). I forget the details, but we ended up talking on the phone. She was unfortunately busy that evening throwing a birthday party for her roommate, but I, having not had a real conversation with anyone since the previous Sunday and my head brimming with the twenty plus hours of lectures and sermons I'd been listening to while driving, kind of fished for an invitation. It was maybe a bit awkward, but such are real life introductions that begin on facebook. Anyway, I got one and headed out to her place. The party was fun, I met and talked to a few people. Turns out she, my new friend, didn't go to Mars Hill (used to), but her roommate did and several other people at the party. One guy, who I met just as he was leaving with his girlfriend, I had a great, though brief, conversation with and knew he was the type of guy I would like. They left, but a short while later the birthday girl got a call from the guy's girlfriend asking where I was staying. I ended up talking to the guy again and saying that I'd probably find a parking lot somewhere, and so he offered his couch. I of course was more than willing to accept and he gave me the address and left the key out for me. I ended up staying at the party until midnight or so, took a delightful walk along Alki Beach (where the below Seattle skyline night photo was taken) with my new friend discussing all manner of theological and personal issues (And to her credit, she patiently listened as I very poorly tried to convey the gist of the Logic lectures I'd listened to. I'm sure I could not have sounded more boring nor more like an idiot.). Anyway, she, her sister, the birthday girl, the guy I stayed with, his girlfriend and I all met at Mars Hill the next morning to worship. Afterwards we went out to the Pike Place market (saw the famous fish market, the first Starbucks, etc) and I ended up spending another night at his place. I went out to Olympic National Park, but came back through Seattle and stayed another two nights with him. His phrase was “Mi casa es su case.” and I believe he meant it. I also went out again with my friend who was willing to take me to all the other Seattle sites (“Waiting for the Interurban” photo below being one). I was also able to go with the guy and his girlfriend to their “Community Groups” which meet during the week to eat, fellowship and discuss the sermon. It was a wonderful time. In fact, of all the beautiful places I visited (Columbia River Gorge, Crater Lake National Park, Redwoods National Park, Oregon Coast, Olympic National Park), Seattle, because of the beauty of the believers, was the highlight of the trip. Obviously God was looking out for me and orchestrating everything and perhaps He did direct me to the only Christians at Mars Hill who are living out their faith, but I kind of doubt it.

But I digress. I'll get to the original point. What was the church service like? (Though I do wonder if what I just wrote is the main point, and the church service is the secondary issue.) Driscoll preaches five times on Sundays. They have (I believe) eight other campuses that receive the video feed of his teaching/preaching. All other aspects of the service (singing, prayer, Lord's Supper, etc.) are handled individually by the campus pastors. The services are extremely simple. We began with some singing. Now in general, I think it's really lame to begin a service with singing. Particularly if it's just trite choruses written by people whose theology hasn't gotten out of Sunday school yet. Not that singing, i.e. praising God, can't be used to begin a service, but when that is the “worship time”, despite the fact that your intellect hasn't even begun to be engaged, then I think you have a pretty superficial understanding of worship. But fortunately, it was neither. Content wise, it was a mix of contemporary and old hymns. Providentially, one hymn was Nothing But the Blood, one of my favorites, and one contemporary was In Christ Alone, probably my favorite Christian song written in my lifetime. The worship pastor (believe that was his title) made some comments in the midst of it and there was some prayer before or after as well. Then Mark got up to preach. And he preached for like an hour. Now, that's nothing that I'm not used to. My current pastor I believe has done some hour and half sermons and anything less than forty-five minutes I start to question how much preparation the preacher put into it, but I didn't expect a well known pastor, the service which I'm attending is packed, and who's broadcasting to eight other locations, and is going to preach that same sermon five times that day, to bust out an hour long sermon. And one who is openly Calvinistic from the pulpit, a hardliner on men's and women's roles, and who preaches expositorily from the Bible. It still excites me. That's freaking awesome. After the sermon, there was some more singing (Which I love. I much prefer to sing after my heart has been pierced by the Word, and my singing is an expression of the emotion that my intellect has created from understanding the truth just taught rather than an emotion I have to try and work up. That's a good contrast with the superficial worship I referred to earlier.) We also had the Lord's Supper, which they do every week, which I also love. While I won't say it's commanded to do so every week, all of the arguments I've heard against it (thus far) are lame. If doing something weekly or regularly necessarily makes it less meaningful, then quit telling your wife you love her, quit praying and singing praises to God. In fact, you should probably only go to church once a quarter as well. Surely your soul will remain in tip-top shape from those four services a year (Now if you listened to Robbins lectures on Logic, you'd know that's an ad hominen argument.) But again I digress from this digression.

My one point of contention was with the music. I guess not really with the music itself, but with the presentation of it. I'm all for music. I'm all for instruments. I'm even all for musicians playing their instruments passionately and getting into it. But I don't really understand why they need to be up front on the stage. It does make sense if you want to make it like a concert. I mean that's why people will pay $60 to go to a concert when they already have the album and can listen to the music anytime they want. Concerts are all about the performance. It's all about the musicians themselves. People wouldn't go to concerts if the band was playing behind a curtain and never came out. That would be a concert all about the music and not all about the musicians. But as I said, nobody would go to those concerts, but that's the kind of concert I think needs to be taking place in the church. Now I understand this isn't very popular, particularly with musicians. They, perhaps even more so than your average Joe, are prideful and self seeking (I say that as a wanna be musician. The things that make me most self-seeking are the same things that make me want to be a musician.). They like being up there. And I can understand them wanting to be up there. But all that means is that even for their own sakes, we shouldn't put them up there. Even if they honestly could do it sinlessly in themselves, they are a huge distraction to others (to me if no one else). The girl who was up there I thought was exceptionally attractive, and though not dressed particularly immodestly, I was still constantly aware of her presence. Admittedly, that's an issue that I'm hypersensitive to (I just called myself hypersensitive. That's never happened before.), but I don't think the service would have suffered at all had she not been up there and it certainly would have been more beneficial to me. I believe they are in a logical dilemma. If they are the type of people who don't care about being up there, they'll have no objection to not being up there so as not to distract others. If they are the type of people who do care about being up there, they don't need to be up there for that very reason. Either way, they shouldn't be up there.

I do not have this objection primarily for myself. If I honestly am the only one and the church at large is benefiting immensely from having concert style praise, then so be it. I'll gladly sacrifice my preferences for the greater good. Or if only the strong are distracted while the weak are not, then they (the strong) have the biblical obligation to bear with the weak in this and all other matters of preference. Again, I am willing to do this. Mainly I throw this out there as an issue of contemplation. I do not think the Bible is as clear nor as strict on this as say female elders, what to preach, etc. I trust the leadership at Mars Hill has thought the issue through and has come to where they are through prayer and the application of biblical principles. Nor do I say this to detract from the wonderful work God is doing there. I have a strong desire to move there just to be a part of that church. Any who go to Seattle I would encourage to visit Mars Hill (in fact I've got some friends there who I'm sure would love to meet you). I think the reformed community could learn a lot from them. I'd be overjoyed if several churches that I know of or have been a part of became more like Mars Hill. Not that it's a perfect church, but it's striving to reach the world with the gospel. The pure, unadulterated life-changing gospel of Jesus Christ. And they are succeeding.

One other note. At the party I asked a guy who attends Mars Hill what a typical member of the congregation was like. I believe I specifically mentioned Calvinism and that I knew Driscoll was but were the people attending the church. His reply was basically that many of them were clueless, even people who had attended for a substantial amount of time. What? How is that possible? I know Driscoll doesn't hide his nor the church's position. In the few sermons I downloaded and listened to, he said he was a Calvinist and that he thought it was the doctrine taught by scripture. I don't even think he went in to an apology for the terminology. This is still incredible to me. People can attend the church, know Driscoll's a Calvinist, not be a Calvinist, and still not feel condemned or belittled enough to leave the church. That's fantastic. I confess I still struggle with not thinking that every Arminian is an idiot and not wanting to immediately show them how ignorant their view is. I trust I am getting better at it and more ready to let the Spirit work and less ready to blast them, but it's not my natural disposition. What an accepting body of believers! How much greater sphere of influence they can have then my extremely limited one. I wouldn't be surprised if I could talk theological circles around 90% of the people at Mars Hill, and yet, I'd be less surprised if 90% of the people at Mars Hill weren't being more used by God as instruments of His grace and mercy than I am. That is humbling. And it's good to be humbled.



A couple photos from the trip

Seattle Skyline from Alki Beach



Waiting for the Interurban statues

The Confessions of Saint Seth

I use 'saint' loosely and merely as a literary ploy. For any who have read The Confessions of Saint Augustine, the title and our particular area of struggle is the extent of the similitude between the proceeding work and that brilliant piece of literature.

This is, in a way, a bringing together of many of my recent musings. From my own personal failings and that of my family (of which I am a part) to the more general failings of churches (of which again I am a part), this is my attempt to destroy whatever good there is in my name, that I might have no pride in anything, save Christ and Him crucified (Galatians 6:14). Indeed, the world has been crucified to me, and I am invincible. As John G. Paton said, “I am immortal until God's work for me to do is done.” If God is for me, who can stand against me? (Romans 8:31) And who dares to bring a charge against God's Elect? It is God who justifies. (Romans 8:33) If the whole world were arrayed against me, I would, I trust, stand just as firm as Athanasius until they could not help but say, “Seth contra mundum”, “Seth against the world”. It is impossible for me to care less what you think of me. My hope and worth are completely bound up in the person of Christ and His work, and there it rests securely, untouchable. This is at last my disposition. It is only from this position that I feel safe enough to write this. My sincere desire is that you will join me. Free yourself from secret guilt and shame. Cast off the shackles of that easily besetting sin. Acknowledge your sinfulness and seek the Divine Help. How many wallow in sin because they refuse to admit it to themselves? And of those that can admit it, how many fight alone, whose struggling only sink them deeper and deeper into the quicksand? Brothers, sisters, we must help these poor tortured souls! They are your brothers. They are your sisters. They will be your children. I throw myself out there. Whatever sin you struggle with, I have committed it. If not in deed, in mind. And if not in deed, it is only because of an inability, not undesirability. I am a wretch of the first magnitude. I am kin to Hitler, Stalin, Dahmer, LaVey, the Pharisees and... Paul. But just saying that doesn't mean much. And so I will show you the darkness of my heart. It is not a pretty sight

(I will remain somewhat general, not to keep things hidden, but for the purity of any who read it. I cannot recommend you read it. I don't know if it will make you struggle. If you wish, you may skip down to the “Now really, why do I” paragraph. You should avoid the sordidness with that.)

Though I'm sure many people could rattle off a lengthy list of my sinful tendencies (and be correct), in some ways, I don't even care about those sins. They are splinters in my foot compared to the beam I know I have in my eye. Not that they in and of themselves are not damnable, but I've never thought it very profitable to spend time cleaning the dirt under my fingernails when I knew I was going to go jump in the pigsty later. Such is, and always has been, the case of lust in my life. I am currently it's master, and have brought it into submission over the last two years, but I hang by a double stranded thread. Those strands are some dear brothers in Christ and the Holy Spirit. Without either of them (Yes, either. Apart from my Christian brothers, the Holy Spirit has not been enough), I know I would immediately run back to it. Ah, perhaps I could last a few weeks or a month, but eventually and certainly, I would run back to it.

My first exposure to pornography was at quite a young age, I assume around five or six. And yes, I can remember some of those images twenty plus years later. At the time I didn't even know what I was looking at, but I knew I I liked it. Since that time I believe I've been addicted to it. Even in times when there was none available, I was addicted to it. Even now, though I do not indulge myself, I am addicted to it. There is nothing I would rather do (except have sex) than look at porn. If someone where to ask me, “Seth, would you like to go climbing, hiking, photographing, out to your favorite restaurant then come back and talk theology?” and I were going to be honest I'd say, “No, I'd rather look at porn.” “But all your friends and family are going to be there.” “That's nice. I'd rather look at porn.” That may come across as an exaggeration, but despite that scenario never having been played out, were the questions asked and were I honest, that's exactly how it would go down. Nor do I say it for shock value. I simply want you to have an accurate view of who I am. It's not that I want that to be my preference, it just is. The Spirit of God can change it, but I cannot anymore than you can arbitrarily change your deep seated preferences. I don't think most people have much to correlate the consuming and obsessive nature of lust with in their lives. An alcoholic might. An OCD person probably does.

If I had lived my life merely with this preference and disposition without any indulgence, than that would be one thing. But I have not. The vast majority of my life has been unabashed abandonment to it. College was not a very good time for me. I don't know what the ratio would be for time spent looking at porn compared to time spent studying, eating and everything besides going to class and sleeping, but it's certainly higher than 2:1. Were I a blatant pagan whose conscience has been so seared or who grew up with abuse or with no knowledge of God and the Bible, that would one thing. But again, I did not.

That is merely the external. The depravity of my thought life is beyond description. The only figures I can use to approximate the imaginative fornications I've conceived would be akin to the number of my heart beats, the number of steps I've taken or the number of breathes I've taken. It is incalculable. And since lust is adultery and the women I have imagined haven't consented, I'm a rapist hundreds of thousands of times over.

This is who I am. Your son, your brother, your friend, Seth Walters. This is me.

Sorry to disappoint.

Now really, why do I say all of this? Surely I can not give a crap about your opinion of me without intentionally destroying your opinion of me. In fact, going to all this trouble to give you a bad opinion of me is evidence that I do in fact care what type of opinion you have of me. So if I really do find all my worth in Christ, why write? Why set up some awkward moments with any who read it next time I see them or make my most embarrassing and complete failures available to the public? Perhaps more than any other, this blog is for your benefit. For almost the entirety of my Christian life, I have walked without the Spirit. Not that He ever fully left me, but my sins so grieved Him, He could not or would not exert His power in my life. I wonder how much farther in my Christian life I could be had I spent the last ten years in communion with Him. I'm sure I'd be much more holy and much more humble about it. So that is what I missed. What I got instead was an unbearable burden that has oppressed me for the vast majority of my life. Loneliness, guilt, shame and failure are the words that most characterize it. There is a self-loathing that comes from this that you cannot understand unless you've experienced it. Pondering death has often been my only relief. And I am afraid, and unfortunately confident, that you, your brother, your husband, your son or perhaps even your sister, wife or daughter may be now, or will in the future endure what I have endured. Someone you know's life, though a child of God and fellow heir with Christ, may be devastated and made useless by an addiction to pornography. For any in the midst of it, I am here for you. Whatever sin it is, there is victory in Christ. It doesn't matter if it's my struggle or not. Christ can overcome it. Homosexuality, bitterness from being abused, abusing others, whatever it is, I know your bondage. I know your fear of men. I know all around you are a bunch of condemning hypocrites. I know that death seems better than confession. But it's a lie. Satan has deceived you. If you only begin you will see the beauty of it, but you can't do it alone. Have you not learned that by now? You will never have victory in your own struggles. Let me help you. Let me show you Christ's love. There is joy immeasurable on the other side. Please, with all I am, I beg you. Join me. I have tasted it. It is so sweet. James 5:16 “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another,” Why? “that you may be healed.” Please, be healed.

For the rest, though you didn't throw me into the quicksand, you didn't help me get out either. Had it not been for some faithful and loving brothers, I'd have drowned there. Had I made shipwreck of the faith, your surprise would have been genuine, even though my course was set towards destruction all the while. Oh, you offered help, right in the midst of saying, “Anyone who does that is the worst type of person. Do you do that?” And while now I can boldly respond, “Yeah. And Christ forgave me and still loves me, but your self righteousness will damn you to hell unless you repent.”, for years I could not. And there are many who still cannot. Your attitude keeps them from crying out. Your condemning and judgmental attitude is why they are afraid to confess, repent and “be healed”. If there is any sin or issue that you assume no true Christian would struggle with, then when one does (and most definitely there is not one but legions), they won't come to you. And if that's the prevailing mindset of the family or the church, then they won't go there either. They'll hide it. They'll fight with all their might, but alone, and ultimately to no avail. Some will, by the miraculous grace of God, survive. Many won't. One of them will be the next Dahmer, another just your average serial killer, another a serial rapist and another a pedophile. We the church, and believers individually, are God's instruments of grace in this world. If not us, then who and what has God given to rescue poor wretched souls from Satan's grasp? The Holy Spirit indeed, but He does not work in a mystic, ghostly way . He works through His word and through His people. We are His hands! As corny as that sounds.

For you parents, if there's any sin that you tell your children is so bad, then you can be certain, when they commit that sin, they won't be coming to you. And for your daughters, if there's any sin you isolate to be “a guy's problem”, then if your daughters have sexual struggles (which is becoming more and more common), then rest assured, they won't come to you. They'll think themselves wicked, evil and perhaps even psychotic, but they won't come to you. And thus, when the infant sin is just taking root and could with but two fingers be plucked from the ground of your child's heart and thrown into the fire, they will hide it from you and allow it to grow. Not that they want to. Not that they don't hate the guilt, but you have forced their deception. Their desire for your love and approval keeps them from bringing that particular issue to you, their parents. And years later, if by God's grace they are able to mortified it, the tree may be dead, but it's roots will have grown so deep that only the resurrection will fully cleanse them. That is where I have been left. The tree has been cut down, but I may always have to fight the new ones that spring up from it's roots. The time of my life of greatest mental aptitude and physical prowess is gone, wasted on fleeting images. I am, more than likely, too scarred to ever marry. The new man could never settle for anyone less than a model of Christian character and above average intelligence, but the old man could never settle for anyone who didn't look like a model. I rejoice that God has saved me, but oh how much the locusts have eaten. Please God, spare my nephews from such a life as I have lived. Kill me rather than have them repeat my mistakes.

So that's why I've thrown myself under the bus. Maybe it'll be easier for someone else to now. Or maybe someone who's already under can get out now. Maybe somebody else will and then another, and eventually the whole of Christendom will be throwing themselves under the bus to help those burdened brothers and sisters in Christ who have been under there for years, constantly being run over by Satan and getting tire tracks down their backs.

Father, forgive me. For these sins and for the sins I've let others fight against alone and for all the rest.
I surrender myself fully to you again. I am your vessel, though weak, ignorant and despicable. Please use me still. May I bring some glory to your name?


Below is one of my favorite hymns. I was so encouraged to hear Mars Hill sing it and privileged to take part. I cannot think of it without tearing up, nor will I ever be able to write something that so well expresses my hope.

What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Chorus
Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

For my pardon, this I see,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
For my cleansing this my plea,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Chorus
Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Nothing can for sin atone,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
Naught of good that I have done,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Chorus
Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

This is all my hope and peace,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
This is all my righteousness,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.

Chorus
Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.




As a final qualification, if what I've written doesn't apply to you, then it doesn't apply to you. Don't be a little baby and gripe about my generalizations. Yes, I know not every family and every church is like this, but many, if not most, if not almost all, are like this. Use this as a time to thank God for His blessings on you and pray for everyone else. If you were already convinced, be encouraged, the tide may be turning. If you were convicted, repent and change. If you think I'm way off, you're an idiot, but I'm glad you read it anyway.

The idiot comment was said in jest. If you think I'm way off, I think you're wrong. (This is pathetic. I have to qualify my qualifications.)

Oh, and my apologies if you're offended by my forthrightness, but that's also the attitude that's allowing this issue to destroy the church. My email is in my profile if any wish to correspond privately.

Preface to my next blog

I am back from my road trip. Thank you for your prayers and well wishes. I believe God blessed, as He always does. Hopefully I'll get to give a full report on what I did and the intricacies of God's working, but not sure when. I have so much that I wish to express, but here is a summary.

Before I left Jackson I downloaded a bunch of podcasts from Piper, Matt Chandler and Driscoll and began reading Gordon Clark's Logic (which I still haven't finished, though it's a short book.) For the first week or so I mainly listened to sermons while driving and read when an opportune time arose. The sermons were very good and the book great, once I had humbled myself to acknowledge that I was and still am a very stupid person who is not very logical. I did some internet research on Clark (who is nowhere near as well known as he should be) and came across www.trinityfoundation.org. It was run by John Robbins (He died last year. I very much would have enjoyed hearing him lecture), who lectured on much of Clark's works. I downloaded the 18 part series on "Introduction to Logic" which used Clark's book as the textbook. This was tremendously helpful. I went ahead and downloaded the whole mp3 catalog and yesterday listened to a five part series on the justification controversy plaguing the Presbyterian church. It was fascinating. Reformed Baptist churches are so autonomous that their histories, unless personally involved, are rather mundane. Not so with Presbyterians. So after hearing Robbins rip on lots of people who are incredibly highly regarded (Van Till, Wilson and Leihart) in many reformed circles, I am very interested to get the other side of the story. Apparently it has it's roots in the Clark-Van Til controversy in the 40's, whose outcome has since shaped the Presbyterian church and allowed the errors to begin to grow (at least as it appears to me at this time). Clark, and Robbins for that matter, seem to be super solid theologians, and yet I don't think I'd ever heard of them until I stumbled across Logic a couple years ago by accident (and didn't know what I'd stumbled onto until this past week).

So there are like ten books that I want to read now, but I'm trying to exercise a little patience and finish the ones I currently have before going on to these. But anyway, it was a very exciting time. I was trying to think of an analogy of how much I was engrossed in them and the lectures on Logic, but the only one I could come up with was porn. Some will completely understand that analogy and some won't. I currently have a lust for knowledge that I can only compare to sexual lust. I think I am in some danger of making knowledge an end in and of itself, but hopefully I can keep it in it's proper place. I am sure Satan would be just as happy if knowledge became my new idol to distract me from Christ.

Can't wait to see you, family.