confess, I’m a Millennial church curmudgeon. Although the stereotypical image of a “church curmudgeon” is the bad tempered elderly man, arms crossed, complaining about how the music is too loud and the pews too soft, I am still a curmudgeon to be reckoned with.
Donning a bow tie and skinny jeans, with dark-rimmed glasses and a pair of loafers, I strut into churches with one mission – to judge it and its ministry. I’ll nit pick the artwork, or lack thereof. I’ll chastise the congregation for not having online giving and pontificate to my friends over brunch on how the place is from the stone age because the website isn’t up-to-date. And, fair warning, if the slides during the worship service are just one second off . . . sorry, but that’s tantamount to undoing the work of Jesus on the cross.
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