Cover Story
May 9, 2008
Willow Creek Rising
Critical lessons to learn from a church in the midwest
South Barrington, IL
Alan H. Feiler
Managing Editor
Part of an ongoing series on innovative religious institutions and programs around the country.
“Come on already, Mom!”
In a spacious, busy parking lot in this northwest Chicago suburb among patchworks of rolling farmlands, nondescript office parks and sprawling housing subdivisions, an 8-year-old boy looked over his shoulder and flashed an expression of severe annoyance at his yawning, sluggish mother.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” the boy, wearing a T-shirt, baseball cap, jeans and sneakers, barked on a recent windy Sunday morning at his similarly casually-dressed mother. In the middle of a parking row, amid dozens of orange-jacketed people directing motorists toward spaces, he waited impatiently for her to catch up and yanked her arm in the direction of a modern, mammoth, low-slung building consisting largely of brown brick, glass and metal, resembling a junior college or a corporate headquarters.
“It’s almost time for church!” the boy yelled.
Inside Willow Creek Community Church, rock music echoed from stereo speakers in a gymnasium as young teenagers — some wearing nose rings, tattoos, “hoodies,” Chicago Cubs jerseys and sandals — milled around, played ping-pong, video games and air hockey, watched multiple television screens, surfed the Internet, chatted on cell phones, or simply sat in large, plush chairs and shot the breeze with friends. With parents dropping off their teenagers, the scene resembled a typical middle school mixer.
Suddenly, with the deafening crash of a guitar power chord filling the room, the youngsters rushed into an area of the gym cordoned off by a high curtain, where a seven-piece rock band, led by a pretty teenage female vocalist in jeans and a black tank-top playing keyboards, performed from a stage. Audience members immediately began jumping up and down, thrusting their hands high into the air and singing along to all of the lyrics, which were flashed (with images of the band playing) across a pair of super-sized video screens. With the loud, pulsating music, white paper lanterns hanging from scaffolding and mesmerizing light shows, attendees — most of whom were spinning and jumping around in ecstasy — might be excused for thinking for a minute that they were at a “Hannah Montana” concert instead of a religious worship service.
Save for the songs’ words, such as:
Jesus paid it all/
All I owe to him/
Sin had left a crimson stain/
He washed it all away.
Or:
Lift my hands and spin around/
See the light I have found/
O the marvelous light, marvelous light/
You are the way, You are the Light.
At one point, the music stopped abruptly, except for a single, ominous note from the organ. The lead singer smiled tenderly at the audience and spoke in a soft voice into the microphone.
“In your heart, who do you believe and say God is?” she asked as audience members slowly swayed their bodies, some clenching their eyes and looking up. “When we can say who God is, we commit our lives to what that is.” After a pause, the drummer began pounding away, and the room again erupted in singing and dance.
Andrew Means, a college student who volunteers at Willow Creek’s weekly services for “Elevate,” the church’s middle school division, chuckled when an older visitor commented that the service felt more like an ’80s MTV video than a religious gathering.
“It’s different, we know that,” conceded Mr. Means, 22, “but for us, the goal is to help bring the kids to Jesus and make him accessible to where they’re at in their lives and culture. We just let ’em in and have fun, a good time. It shouldn’t be boring, that’s important.
“A lot of young people have a really hard time connecting to God, but we think he has something to say to them,” Mr. Means said, while watching more youngsters run at breakneck speed into the worship area. “How else are you going to reach them except with openness and innovativeness?
“You have to speak to people in their own language.”
Reshaping Church
For more than three decades, Willow Creek Community Church has demonstrated the ability (some would say the genius) to speak expertly and intimately about God, Scripture and the meaning of life in a contemporary and relevant manner to people of all ages and backgrounds, in “their own language.”
The congregation achieves this by embracing popular cultural touchstones such as rock and hip-hop music, interpretive dance, drama and storytelling, the Internet, high-tech video and audio systems, live-feed hook-ups with celebrities (such as Irish rock star Bono) and interweaving contemporary themes into sermons and discussions (rather than hellfire and brimstone tirades).
At the same time, Willow Creek has largely discarded traditional dogma and rote worship practices. As a result, the church has been at the forefront of revitalizing Christianity in this country, according to observers of the national Christian scene.
“I grew up Catholic,” said congregant Diane Belton, resting in the church’s Guest Central room. “It was the same message at the same service, with the same prayers, over and over. You weren’t learning or growing. Here, you understand that Scripture can apply to your life.”
A friendly and informal atmosphere pervades at Willow Creek. Volunteers frequently come up and greet newcomers, who are asked specifically not to contribute to the collection plate during their first visit to the church, out of hospitality. (There are no membership dues at Willow Creek; congregants are simply asked to either give a 10 percent tithing, as prescribed by the Bible, or “whatever their hearts call on them to give,” according to leaders and members.)
Clergy tend to be called by their first names, “affinity groups” of all kinds (pertaining to sports, hobbies and interests, supportive, social justice, all of a spiritual or secular variety) are highly popular, and dress tends to be casual. Most worshippers look like spectators at a sporting event, with some even wearing shorts in the summertime.
“We don’t believe God really cares what you wear when you come to church,” said Susan DeLay, Willow Creek’s media relations manager. “He just wants you to come.”
Just merely entering the church is a jaw- dropping, awe-inspiring experience, in that it doesn’t really look or feel like a house of worship.
With multi-leveled escalators, cascading water fountains, high ceilings, overhead flat screens, and a state-of-the-art, 7,100-seat theater/auditorium/ sanctuary, the facility’s two-story atrium assumes the appearance of a contemporary shopping mall. Completing the image is a Starbucks-esque coffee shop, a food court and 100-seat dining room, a 5,000-square-foot bookstore, and comfortable seating nooks straight out of Martha Stewart Living.
“We tell people that this is a big building, but a small church,” said Kevin Belton, a member for the past six years who lives in Gilberts, Ill. He said his two teenage children routinely argue with him and his wife if the family needs to travel outside the Chicago area on weekends, because they won’t be able to attend Willow Creek services.
“It’s very easy to get connected here,” Mr. Belton said. “There are so many ways to fit into a community here, and there are so many communities here. Being a participating member only means taking an active role in the church and about taking steps in your spiritual journey, not about how much money you give.”
Said Michael H. Iser, a Jewish Chicagoan familiar with Willow Creek: “The idea is they want families there not just for services but all the time. So they set up programs, like for bike riding or golf, where you do it with people there [of similar interests]. The church becomes the place that everything revolves around. ... There are so many activities going on, it’s all-encompassing. Willow Creek has tapped into being everything to everyone, from birth to death. The Jewish community hasn’t caught up with that concept yet.”
Built on 155 acres, Willow Creek’s 748,940-square-foot building — which includes another large auditorium, three basketball courts, a 500-seat chapel, 40 classrooms and 18 meeting rooms — wends itself around a scenic, five- acre, 13-foot-deep lake.
“I got fixated on the size and the numbers the first time I went there. I was just blown away,” recalled Lutherville resident Trevor C. “Chip” Lewis Jr., whose Hunt Valley Church belongs to the Willow Creek Association, the Chicago church’s outreach organization that provides training and resources for nearly 13,000 member churches in 37 countries. “But one guy said to me, ‘You missed something. This place is not about numbers and square feet.’ And I got it. This place broke all the rules. They’re attracting people and changing lives. People are making a commitment to their spiritual growth. What’s wrong with that?”
Interestingly, at Willow Creek, nary a steeple, cross, crucifix, pew, stained-glass window, mural of Jesus and the Apostles, or church bell is in sight. No speaking in tongues, robes, incense and myrrh, or confessionals. Stacks of freshly-minted Bibles, however, can be found in myriad select areas throughout the building, at the ready for a passer-by’s perusal.
Services are held on Saturday nights, Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings, the latter of which is more doctrinal and liturgical (and less oriented toward “seekers”). Bible classes and other gatherings are held constantly at the church and in worshippers’ homes throughout the week. (Theologically, the church is conservative, notably on such issues as abortion, stem cell research and same-sex marriages, but it also wholeheartedly embraces such typically left-of-center causes as AIDS relief, feeding the hungry in Africa, helping the inner-city indigent and environmental causes.)
“Ours is a teaching church, not a liturgical church,” said Rev. Marie Shepherd, a Willow Creek pastor for the past 17 years. “We have baptism and communion and the sacraments, but people mainly come to us for the teachings. We show people the Bible’s foundation and how they can know it’s true.
“The prayers here are more personable and conversational, not repetitive,” she said. “You’re encouraged to have your own relationship with God — just be real and vulnerable. We find out where people are in their journeys and what their questions are. We want them to investigate, and give them the tools. They often come angry or lost or confused, and find a spiritual family here.”
Willow Creek, say leaders and congregants, is largely church for the “unchurched,” and for those who are “Christ-centered” (or pretty darned close to it) but eschew the trappings and approach of conventional Christian life and ritual.
“It’s really the only church I’ve ever attended,” said Bill Bohannan, 55, a member since 1996 who began attending in 1987 and lives in the suburb of Dundee. “It reshaped church for me. Growing up as an angry kid from a tough childhood on the south side of Chicago, I never saw the angle or draw of church. I usually saw violence as a solution. But I found it remarkable that what they taught here on Sundays was something I could do throughout the week. It was practical and relevant.
“And it’s warm and fun,” he said. “I never know what time of day it is because I don’t look at my watch when I’m here. They do a great job. Church can be cool.”
Paying Attention
Willow — as it’s simply called by members, who frequently refer to themselves as “Creekers” — is part of the fastest-growing religious phenomenon in the United States today, the evangelical, non-denominational Christian mega-church movement. It is the second largest church in the country, after Lakewood Church in Houston.
“We’re part of the Protestant movement, and our authority is Tanach [Hebrew Bible] and the New Covenant,” said Rev. Judson Poling, Willow Creek’s longtime internal consultant who produces teaching and training resources for the church.
“The truth is, we’re all over the map,” he said. “We try to conform things and look at things like Jesus did. He drove people to go back and connect with God and figure things out. Our mission is to turn irreligious people into followers of Jesus, put God first, and find ways to express that and serve your fellow man.”
With more than 25,000 worshippers attending Willow Creek’s main hub in South Barrington and four satellite campuses around the Chicago metropolitan area every weekend for services, Rev. Poling partially attributed the church’s phenomenal success to its founder, senior spiritual leader and guiding light Rev. Bill Hybels, and the professional and lay leadership there. No less than the Harvard Business School has cited Willow Creek as an exemplary business model, and sectarian institutions around the world — including such Jewish outfits as the Associated: Jewish Community Federation of Baltimore — have studied the church’s blueprint and methods of operation.
“One thing that is clear is that we’ve had stable leadership,” said Rev. Poling. “The founding pastor is still here, and he is scandal-free. There’s no high turnover of leadership here, and that’s not typical of leadership over a 30-year period.”
But Rev. Poling also compared Willow Creek’s longevity and success to the survival of the Jewish people over two millennia of anti-Semitism, pogroms and genocide.
“There are things you can’t see, where the math doesn’t add up,” he said. “There’s something bigger than ourselves, the unseen part. The pejorative side is, ‘You’ve been savvy at marketing.’ But I don’t think that explains us. Yes, Bill’s a smart leader, and our board of elders are smart, but there are a lot of smart people everywhere.”
After a long pause and a stroke of his beard, Rev. Poling went further in attempting to summarize Willow Creek’s secret, from a more earthly, strategic perspective. “We pay attention,” he said. “We’re constantly looking at what we’re doing and how we can do it better. People tend to want to just get into one groove and keep it going. We’ve always felt, ‘God deserves our best — Can we do this better?’”
That penchant for constant reflection and self-analysis is the basis behind “Reveal: Where Are You?” (Willow Creek Association), a book co-authored by Rev. Greg L. Hawkins, Willow Creek’s executive pastor, and researcher Cally Parkinson, published late last year. Although Willow Creek has been arguably the most influential church in the nation over the past 30 years and has brought thousands to Christianity, the study takes issue with the church and other “seeker-sensitive” outfits for not doing a better job of making more committed believers out of worshippers. A quarter of Creekers interviewed said they felt “stalled” or dissatisfied with the church.
The report has had a seismic impact at Willow Creek and in the Christian “seeker” community, and has added to the longtime criticism of such non-conventional, non-traditional churches as being ‘Christianity-lite,’ watered-down or ‘Wal-Mart theology.’
“We didn’t say the model was flawed,” said Rev. Poling, alluding to reports in the Christian media that Willow Creek was “repenting” for mistakes made in attracting people but not fully turning worshippers into Christ-centered followers over the years. “We said we didn’t realize, especially compared to other churches, the numbers of disaffected people. We noticed a large group of stable Christians thinking of leaving our church. It was bigger than we thought.”
Said Dr. Scott Vaudrey, Willow Creek’s group life director: “The seeker has changed. We’ve seen we have tons to learn. It’s fine for people to have not yet come to God [and] to come here. But we also want to help people become more Christ-centered. We want to be more effective. What we learned is that we didn’t have as much figured out as we’d thought, and we need to work on things. We’re trying to customize.”
Terry Mattingly, a Linthicum-based religion writer and academic who focuses on contemporary Christianity, said “Reveal” demonstrates that Willow Creek is in the midst of a period of flux and introspection. He said he believes it will lead to a maturation process to determine Willow Creek’s next stage.
“I think they’re debating their success, and it’s to their credit that they’re debating it,” he said. “At least they’re self-aware. But what constitutes success? ‘Seekers’ was the hot phrase, and that phrase still applies. But now there’s a big debate about choosing your church by which rock band you like, and Willow Creek pioneered that kind of thing. Do 20-somethings really want that? Will they want something different in 10 years?”
Chip Lewis, managing director of Lutherville’s PSA Financial Center, who has visited Willow Creek four or five times, chafes when hearing the church referred to as “Christianity-lite.”
“That’s naysaying, a jealousy thing. People don’t like institutions that are successful,” he said. “But if you’re not growing, you’re dying. Willow Creek is doing the R&D [research and development], and you see what they do and cherry-pick from their ideas. They know what they’re doing.
“Their ultimate [goal] is that they want a conversion [to Christ-centeredness]. But they also want people to feel comfortable,” he said.
Sometimes, Mr. Lewis said, that means discarding longtime traditions that fail to inspire the younger masses spiritually, a lesson he said the Jewish community and other religious groups could greatly learn from and emulate.
“Let’s face it, Judaism in the United States is dying, in general. Why just accept assimilation?” he said. “People are not Jewish because it’s not fun to be Jewish. Why not make it fun and exciting, and not just follow traditions? Tradition is important, but it’s not more important than the spiritual journey itself.”
The Overcoming
Clutching programs and bottled water, worshippers streamed into Willow Creek’s massive main auditorium on a recent Saturday night for worship services.
Like their fellow congregants, Andrew Cholewa, 20, and Rob Gorman, 18, sat down in the theater’s well-upholstered chairs and watched a 10-piece rock band perform. Although featuring five female singers, the band sounded much like U2, Cold Play or just about any other progressive rock group on airwaves and iPods today. Behind the performers were neo-psychedelic images on Diamond Vision screens.
The performers sang in unison, as light from the setting evening sun shone through the windows:
Turn your gaze to heaven/
And raise a joyous noise/
Oh, praise him.
The music was at once accessible, infectious, irresistible and inspirational, filling the room with a palpable energy and electrical current. The two young men, Mr. Cholewa and Mr. Gorman, both in torn jeans and T-shirts, watched intently from a stacked-deck balcony, bouncing in their seats to the rhythms. The auditorium was filled to capacity, and the floors reverberated to the thunderous beats.
“They sound pretty awesome tonight,” Mr. Cholewa, a soft-spoken, pony-tailed roofer, raved to Mr. Gorman, an outgoing, affable full-time student with a cabbie hat turned backward. “Should be a pretty good night.”
After a troupe of high school girls danced in flowing dresses, the guitarist in the band stepped up to the microphone and explained that the hymn just performed dated back 350 years.
“Our galaxy is a speck of dust in the universe,” he said joyfully, amid an array of vibrant colors and abstract images. “God spoke the universe into being with his word and holds it together with his word. This hymn reminds us of how God is, and of how worthy he is of the worship and praise we give him.”
Following a few organizational announcements and the passing of collection plates by scores of volunteers traveling dutifully from row to row, a high-definition video was presented on world hunger and a campaign to pack meals for the needy in Africa. Moments later when the lights came up, without any introduction or fanfare, like a familiar friend or relative, Rev. Hybels appeared at the lip of the stage and began to deliver his sermon, albeit not from behind a lectern and without notes.
Wearing wire-rimmed glasses, a powder blue V-neck sweater and dark slacks, he spoke poignantly about a church project to have members eat only oatmeal, rice and beans for five days, as a means of demonstrating solidarity with the world’s hungry and impoverished. He called on audience members to participate, even if they weren’t committed Christians yet.
“You live in this world, too,”he said, to polite and nervous laughter.
Throughout his 40-minute sermon, the silver-haired Rev. Hybels, 55, moved around the stage like a master showman and spoke engagingly to the audience, almost as if having a personal conversation with them as individuals. Instead of Elmer Gantry-style verbal theatrics, he seemed articulate and relaxed as he merged Scripture (Romans 8:38-39) with the visceral. At one point, he called on listeners not to fall prey to hostility and resentment against their co-workers or bosses in the workplace, even during turbulent economic times or inter- office political strife.
“With God’s love,” he said, “we can overcome the need for revenge or to talk trash about someone else. They are created in God’s image. What if we could see reality instead of all the obstructions and stuff in front of us? What does it mean that with the love of God you can be more than a conqueror? ... Friends, I hear this ’til I want to puke — people who hold onto a victim mentality, like God or someone else screwed up.”
Later in the talk, Rev. Hybels, an author of a host of books on Christian living and leadership, called on worshippers to let go of their emotional baggage. At times, he seemed part preacher, part psychologist and part New Age self-help lecturer. But at all times, he held the audience in the palm of his hand, with the big hall silent except for his amplified voice.
“You can overcome this stuff,” he said. “Some of you are bitter against family members. You must move to a new place. You must! You have to overcome the petty stuff that tears families apart.
“Saturate yourself with the word of God!
“Stretch yourself with prayer!”
He paused and gazed into the audience, blinking occasionally.
“I don’t think you’ll ever be disappointed with this opportunity.”
As the band rocked on moments later, Mr. Cholewa smiled and nodded at Mr. Gorman, who returned the nod, fixed his hat and grooved a bit to the rhythms of the service. They proceeded to high-five each other.
It was, indeed, a pretty good night at Willow Creek.
Next week: Talking about Willow Creek with Marc B. Terrill, president of the Associated: Jewish Community Federation of Baltimore
Up The ‘Creek’
Started in October 1975 in the rented Willow Creek Theatre in Palatine, Ill., by Rev. Bill Hybels and his youth ministry associate, Dave Holmbo. About 125 people attended the first service
• Opened current main campus in South Barrington, an affluent, predominantly white suburb approximately 35 miles northwest of Chicago, in February 1981
• Founded Willow Creek Association in 1992, to share Willow Creek philosophy and approach with churches around the world, including Timonium’s Grace Fellowship Church. In 2007, 108,000 church leaders from 32 countries attended the WCA’s annual leadership summit in South Barrington. Annual WCA membership is $249
• In fall 2001, established regional campus in DuPage County, followed by McHenry County, North Shore and downtown Chicago. Part of Willow Creek’s “One Church, Multiple Locations” philosophy
• Main auditorium, with seating for more than 7,000 and handicapped-accessibility, opened in September 2004. It is considered the largest theater in the United States
• Willow Creek’s staff today includes 350 full-time employees and 150 part-time employees
• The church’s annual budget is $28,600,000, while the WCA’s annual budget is $20,000,000
•Approximately 12,500 volunteers serve on a regular basis at the South Barrington church or for the WCA
•Operates 120 ministries designed to meet a variety of needs and interests for people of all ages
• Age group categories for programming and activities are divided into “Promiseland” (infants to fifth grade), “Elevate”(middle school), “Impact” (high school), “Axis” (18-30) and main service (30 and up)
• Holds special Sunday service in Spanish for Hispanic and Latino worshippers
• For more about Willow Creek, check out http://www.willowcreek.org.
Soft Approach
Northfield, Ill.
While some Christian outfits view part of their spiritual mandate as spreading the “Good News” and converting Jews and other non-Christians, Willow Creek takes a decidedly low-key approach to reaching the masses in that regard, its leaders say.
“Willow is not in the proselytizing business,” said Rev. Chris Hurta, pastor of Willow Creek’s North Shore campus. “There’s the megaphone on the corner, and then there’s the relational aspect. We simply share God’s love, and are evangelical in the sense that whoever believes that Jesus is the messiah, the living son of God, receives a purpose and eternal life.”
Willow North Shore does hold Passover seders and Holocaust remembrance day events to appeal to that area’s large Jewish community, he said. But that does not mean Jews are being specifically targeted for conversion, Rev. Hurta said.
“Everything we do has an outreach component, but we respect every religion here,” he said. “We do have Jewish people who come to our congregation. We’re in the people business.”
Justin Kron agrees. The Jewish-born Mr. Kron, 36, is a full-time volunteer elder at North Shore who specializes in teaching worshippers about Christianity’s Jewish roots. He joined Willow Creek as a teenager.
“North Shore opened not to attract Jewish people but because a lot of Willow’s members lived nearby,” he said. “My approach is that we Christians need to know the roots of our faith, not to educate the Jewish community on that.
“Our goal is not to push Jesus on you. We should learn from each other,” Mr. Kron said. “Several Jewish guests have even come up and thanked us for our Holocaust remembrance event. We’re here as a Christian community to celebrate the Jewish community and help heal the wounds between the two communities.”