I Think We're All Clones Now
We're Called To Look Like Jesus, Not Each Other
“Look at the way we go out walking close together
I guess you could say I’m really beside myself.” – Weird Al Yankovic
It wasn’t until a few years after 1988 that a generation of children found out Michael Jackson ripped off Fat by Weird Al and propped it up in a brazen attempt to become the King of Pop. It was Bad, terrible, evil. We knew who the real king was. That perm, those glasses, that nasal tone with an affinity for polka. You can’t dethrone that, don’t even try.
That platinum album cranked out hit after eighties pop hit, cementing its place in the hierarchy of musical royalty*. The most egregious heist of all happened with his hit “I Think I’m a Clone Now,” because it wasn’t stolen once, but twice. Tiffany ripped it off in 1987 and Tommy James and the Shondells traveled back to the future to plagiarize their version in 1966. You know it’s a hit when two artists use your masterpiece to rocket launch themselves into stardom.
Clones get a bad rap for not knowing who their parents are and being plagued with an inherent ability to hit anything but their target with a hand blaster. And they’re none the wiser. Ignorance is their bliss in a world of decisions veiled as choices by their creators.
Rising out of bed in a smooth, mechanical motion, cuing melodic alarm tones of “Make Us One” by Jesus Culture as any evidence of a body sleeping is quickly removed by the crisp folding of bed sheets. A seamless swivel turns a petri dish body toward the porcelain altar in anticipation of the day. Hundreds of tiny brushes massage flawless white teeth in a circular motion as the head bobs to the Jesus beat. One backwards snap of the head places every hair to its pre-determined landing spot.
Throwing on a white hoodie with that ninety’s retro-font-church-logo and designer black tennis shoes with the white-walled bottoms, the uniform finally caps off as they nudge their eighties aviator rimmed glasses up the bridge of their nose.
In a choreographed dance, every car chassés their way through the church parking lot to its designated spot, heads bobbing to that synchronous Jesus beat. Like a flock of birds, identical hoodies congregate in murmuration toward the church entrance, with corporate issued tablets in tote, triple skinny no-fo extra hot lattes in hand, marching in mechanized unison toward the conference room for the weekly software update.
” The band dialed in to the click tracks this weekend!”
” Launching the “Stranger Things” series is blowing up the gram.”
” Service transitions were seamless.”
” Everybody stayed in their lane.”
” Lights came up perfectly when Pastor walked on stage.”
” You guys heard that cheering, right? They’re finally getting the worship atmosphere.”
” You see that one dude jumping the whole time? That’s it right there.”
” Anyone notice how smoother the flow of traffic has been getting between services?”
“Yeah, so much better since we stopped having response times.”
” Zach is killing it on the drums with the new LED panel behind him, it’s epic.”
“So much better since we nixed the auditorium lights.”
” Alright, alright guys, great stuff! I’m loving this momentum wave we’re riding, let’s keep it up!” The pastor says, slightly bobbing his outstretched hands like a maestro signaling a decrescendo to an orchestra. Bursting out of the gate, this rush of dopamine was exactly what the Pastor ordered and, oh, did it fill his cup.
Asking the sweatshirts to recite the church vision was like placing a bag of popcorn in a microwave and setting it to level ten as they frantically shouted over each other in a race of who could answer the fastest.
When the first slide appeared on the screen, a collective “oh here we go” echoed with a flow chart in need of no title.
“’Send It’ Church KPI’s!” reverberated through the room as the sweatshirts ‘pew-pewed’ each other as their hands took the shape of blasters, congratulating their collective accomplishment. Pointing at each section of the flow chart, eager fancy-fonted ball caps clapped back titles with their explanations bouncing around the room at caffeinated warp speed as the maestro waved his hands across his digital composition.
“And how do we get there?” Maestro directed with a gregarious swipe left to the next slide.
” Processes and strategies” blurted out in a monotoned enthusiasm, as heads slowly swiveled back and forth with hollow stares. That one phrase initiated a hypnotic response, void of any free will.
One by one, every process in the flow chart was unpacked, line after droning line, heads bobbing with every wrist flick from the maestro.
Momentum, Next level, Re-org, connect, authentic, unpack, execute, deliver, measurables, performance and excellence. This organizational set list loops with different voices echoing the same vernacular with syntaxed enthusiasm. Heads gently click upward with every emphasized syllable.
“We exist to be a culturally relevant and authentically relational, connecting and assimilating all who attend ‘Send It’ Church in our discipleship continuum through collective experience.” The lips all move in exact fluctuations in an automated drone.
You can almost see the progress bar pulsing its way toward completion as the software update/staff meeting neared the end of its download.
They execute this latest OS update into their various areas of ministry hoping to plug others into the matrix, dangling a free sweatshirt as a consolation prize. They live life in the same font, matching the same outfit, slurping the same Kool-Aid.
Next OS update: Personality Modification. Some sweatshirts, like Thompson, are experiencing glitches and the new bug fixes should eradicate those completely. Clones aren’t designed to ask why, only “how fast?”
When coding the implementation of maestro’s masterpiece, ‘Send It’ isn’t looking for individual creativity, it’s zeroing in on streamlined efficiency.
“We’re not looking for different perspectives; we are the perspective.” The only way to accomplish implementing strategies is to engineer the type of person who can execute them efficiently and repeatedly, in a petri dish.
The goal isn’t diversity, it’s uniformity.
Leading humans is like nailing Jell-O to a wall while herding cats. We keep giving them the coloring sheet and they refuse to stay inside the lines or use the coloring template they’ve been given and ask for more crayons. They ask questions; like a six-year-old, they want to know ‘why’. Some even attempt to write their own code into the mainframe, like little holy hackers. Their files have been corrupted to contain multiple methods of doing ministry and must be wiped clean. They think music sounds better with multiple instruments playing different parts when the most efficient way is for everyone to play the same note until the song has ended.
Don’t hire people, hire personality traits. Do they enjoy the same mental gymnastics routine every day? Are they allergic to asking ‘why’? Do they like white sweatshirts? Is their favorite flavor vanilla? Hand them a coloring sheet and see what they do with it. Is their favorite method of ministry yours? Do they find monotone soothing? Are they good with a hand blaster? Do they like Weird Al? Does having the same mannerisms as the person next to you initiate a sequence of electronic pulses racing to your mainframe? Humans call this dopamine.
These people are the holy grail of streamline-ification (yeah, that’s a word). When we all rock the same hairdo, jam the the same play list, pew-pew at the same time, sip our lattes at the same angle, and never ask ‘why’, there’s nothing matching sweatshirts can’t accomplish. It’s like framing the most beautiful, photocopied painting in the church entry way. It’s flawless.
Leading different personality types should be an Olympic sport where everyone who attempts it get a participation trophy. It’s canoeing through a lake filled with spaghettiOs in a white suit during an earthquake. It’s messy. Some have emotions proudly displayed on their sleeves, while others have a face never properly introduced to an expression. Some of them like tea…that’s an abomination. Some of them have a personality other than the letter ‘A’. They’re creative, sensitive, and appreciate the journey as much as the destination. There’s those who can’t wait for the next New Year’s Eve all-nighter and those who think it should be tied up with cement blocks and thrown into the Mariana Trench. Some enjoy the messy process of building relationships that don’t adhere to a schedule, spreadsheet, or a specific outcome. There are those who swear by PC’s and others that are wrong.
This is exactly what a church staff should look and sound like.
Clones are clean, sterile, predictable, hopelessly hardwired to miss the very target they were engineered for.
Humans color outside the lines, bob their heads to different beats, capture beauty through different lenses, come to different conclusions, don’t order off the same menu, and shop at different clothing stores.
With God as the author of the greatest masterpiece, he uses humans, in all their diversity and mess, to make the most beautiful music and weave the most elegant tapestries in perfect chaotic harmony. God knitted together every personality for a purpose in His kingdom. Church staffs should reflect this instead of each other.
A church consultant was laying out the perfect personality traits needed to remain a full-time pastor on staff at the church he was asked to train. If you were quiet, you could hear God vomiting in the background.
Truth is, you grow tired of looking at yourself all the time.
Anyone seen Thompson lately?
Thank you for taking the time to read yet another one of my ramblings. I pray it blesses and challenges you.
Peace.
