Mosaic in the news...again.

Church Light — or Lite?

Mosaic church’s dynamic pastor, Naeem Fazal, has a great story to tell, and his church is one of the fastest growing in the city. But is the congregation following God or Fazal?

By Lisa Hoffmann, for Charlotte Magazine

It’s easy to dismiss Mosaic church as a flavor-of-the-month trend. After all, the congregation meets in a movie theater. There are no hard pews, no hymnals, no stained glass. And forget your hair-slicked-back, shirt-tucked-in Sunday best. Most members—many of whom are twenty-somethings—show up for services looking like they’re headed to the adjoining mall. Panera Bread muffin tops, coffee, and juice greet members in the theater lobby. Colorful spinning lights, computer-generated multimedia displays and Christian rock punctuate the short services.

Mosaic’s charismatic pastor is the least traditional element of all. A Kuwaiti former Muslim who says Christ himself paid him a visit, Naeem Fazal doesn’t look, dress, or talk like you’d expect a church leader to. Yet, in one year, he has managed to put together a new church—a self-billed “different kind of church”—that is drawing hundreds of people a week. His quick wit, good looks, and fantastic back story leave you to wonder, though. Are they coming to hear Christ’s word? Or Fazal’s?

Fazal, thirty-two, grew up in the deserts of Kuwait, leaving for the United States shortly after the country was liberated from Iraqi occupation in 1991. His older brother, Mahmood, had left for the states years before and later converted to Christianity. Naeem was furious when Mahmood told him of the conversion. “When I saw him, I pushed him up against the wall and threatened to kill him,” he says. “That’s what any Muslim man would do. Being Muslim is not just a religion. It’s who you are.”

After Naeem came to the states, the conversion became a subject they just didn’t talk about. Then, in Charleston one night, Naeem says he felt the unmistakable presence of Jesus Christ in his bedroom. He was so afraid that he ran to Mahmood’s room and banged on the door. “Maybe he’s trying to tell you something,” Mahmood replied simply. The encounter was so convincing that Naeem converted right away. He has spoken publicly about his encounter on many occasions and later documented it on an hour-long DVD.

Mahmood, a thirty-six-year-old professional photographer living near Charleston, remembers growing up with Naeem. “He was always lively and entertaining, but I don’t remember seeing any real leadership qualities early on. In fact, I remember having to rein him in a few times. There was a marked change in him after his encounter. His personality didn’t change. His focus changed.”

Shortly after Fazal converted, he joined Seacoast Church, a nondenominational church in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina, and became an active volunteer. He hoped to be placed on the pastoral training track. As his first lead position, senior pastor Greg Surratt asked Fazal to head up the middle school ministry as his first lead position. “He didn’t want to start with kids,” Fazal’s wife, Ashley, remembers. “But Pastor Greg told him, ‘It’s this or nothing right now.’ ” Fazal took the position. He later became the college ministry leader and began pastoral training. Surratt ordained Fazal in 2001.

Todd Phelps, a thirty-year-old young adult pastor at Seacoast, was a freshman in college when he met Fazal. A self-proclaimed “druggie surfer dude,” Phelps says Fazal was a great inspiration to him. “I used to think the only people God used were the nice and shiny ones with their shirts tucked in. Naeem showed me that my background didn’t stop me from being part of God’s plan. I didn’t believe I could turn my life around, but he saw something in me and cultivated it, without judgment or condemnation.”

During the seven years Fazal spent at Seacoast, he watched the church grow from 500 to 7,000 members. By the time he left to plant Mosaic, he was often leading weekly services, his talks broadcast via live feed from the main Seacoast campus to six other satellite campuses.

Mosaic appears to be growing just as quickly. More than four hundred people attended its first service at the end of January 2006. By that Easter, overflowing attendance forced Mosaic to add another service. Today, it offers four services in two venues, AMC Theatres at Northlake Mall and The Visulite Theatre near uptown, each weekend for a congregation of more than 1,000 people.

As Fazal delivers his “talks”—he doesn’t like to call them sermons¬—people sit in silence in dimly lit theaters. Some take notes. A drum set, guitars, and mic stands sit behind him, awaiting the next music set. Colorful graphics and lines of scripture fade in and out on the movie screen behind him, some of the letters spinning into place, all controlled by a row of glowing Apple MacBooks. “Important choices made now, you guys, will affect the rest of your lives,” he says to the crowd, sipping from a bottle of water. Recent themes of his talks have included decision making, relationships, marriage, and even sex.

It’s tempting to believe this is a thinly veiled attempt to lure young sheep away from traditional churches to what is really just a social club couched in a religious setting—until you attend a service and take a good look at the flock. It’s clear from the start they are there for more than just the muffin tops. And they’re not all impressionable young lambs. About a quarter of Mosaic members are well into middle age. They’re not running away from traditional church, they say. They’re running toward something that adds elements to knowing God that were often missing for them in previous church experiences: acceptance and relevance. More than a dozen church members of varying ages came forward to speak to a visitor about their church. Each one of them said basically the same thing: Mosaic is the church they’ve been praying for.

Kristin Mockler, twenty-four, spent six months looking for a church before settling on Mosaic. “I can walk out of a service and apply what Naeem said to my life that day,” she explains. After attending another contemporary church for more than a year, Mockler still didn’t feel a part of it, and left. She learned about Mosaic from Gil Gatch, Mosaic’s music worship leader, and joined before it officially opened. “I felt more welcomed in the first meeting than I’d felt the whole time I was at my old church.”

“Naeem is very approachable, and his messages are relevant to today’s world,” says Richard Paul, forty-nine, a national sales manager for Tommy Hilfiger Footwear. “Mosaic offers fundamental Christian theology in a casual atmosphere. And my kids are finding good Christian friends.”

Although Bible scripture often appears on the screen behind Fazal during his talks, he doesn’t spend a lot of time reading scripture during services. Instead, he focuses his short talks on helping Mosaic members apply Christian tenets to their lives. A gifted storyteller, he often relates self-deprecating tales about his life, such as the time he drove his SUV through what he thought was a flooded field. It turned out to be a pond deep enough to swallow up the car.

Jessi Connolly, a twenty-two-year-old stay-at-home mom, says it’s Fazal’s “realness” and ability to embrace modern culture that hold much of the appeal for her. “We all love TV, celebrities, fashion, and popular music,” she says. “We can use those things to woo people to God.”

Connolly’s husband, Nick, twenty-four, has foregone the usual career track in favor of jobs that allow him plenty of time to devote to Mosaic and his family. “My dad doesn’t understand why I’m holding these jobs,” Nick says. “There were better-paying jobs available, but it just didn’t feel right. We want to be part of something that’s greater than ourselves.”

Fazal himself seems a little bewildered by the whole thing. Sitting in the church’s small Huntersville office, his eyes open wide when he considers why he was called to become a Christian and to plant Mosaic in Charlotte. Strikingly handsome, he’s wearing a light blue sweater, stylish jeans, and cowboy boots. He keeps glancing at his Treo. “I don’t know,” he says, running his hand through longish brown hair. “I don’t think I need to know.”

Looking at his colorful background and prominent position at Mosaic, it’s easy to see how Fazal might become the center of attention, even an attraction. “It’s a great draw,” Mahmood says. “But it’s not enough to keep people coming. If he didn’t deliver regularly, people would stop showing up.”

Mosaic is more than just its leader, others are quick to point out. “It’s not that this is the church of Naeem,” says Amy Gartside, director of communications and volunteer recruitment. “Naeem has an anointing on his life. God is directly communicating with him. And he is obedient to God’s wishes. But we all are.”

Ashley Fazal, thirty-three, remembers being overwhelmed the first few months after they arrived in Charlotte. “I’d spend the whole day supporting and reassuring the rest of the church planting team and then I’d go home and have a meltdown almost every night. I remember looking at Naeem and saying, ‘What have we done?’ ” Seacoast paid Fazal’s salary for the first three months, but after that they were on their own. He counted on relationships he had developed at Seacoast to support the fledgling church and spent many hours on the phone and writing letters requesting financial backing. Ashley was looking after the couple’s son, Asher, who was a toddler at the time, and was pregnant with their daughter, Nurah, who is now seven months old. “It is so much work being a pastor’s wife. But I wouldn’t want to be in any other place in life. This past year and a half has been the hardest and most fulfilling time in my life.”

In addition to four weekly services, Mosaic schedules and oversees small Bible study groups, “First Wednesday” services for the volunteer staff, men’s and women’s dinners, monthly newcomer meetings, and other events.

Amid the flurry of activity, Fazal seems to be the most relaxed of the bunch. “I don’t think the past year and a half has been that hard. Sure, I’m following God’s plan and I’m very busy. But this church could not grow the way it has without everyone helping out. One of the biggest surprises to me is how willing everyone is to give up their time and talent to the church. And besides, I’m loving every minute of it.”

The Fazals tithe—generally defined as donating one-tenth of your income—as do many Mosaic members. Fazal doesn’t flinch when asked about where donations go. “I never touch the tithe boxes. We have trustees who are older and wiser who vote on how to spend the money we collect.” Fazal, who drives a Toyota and lives in a modest neighborhood around the corner from Northlake Mall, never asks for money during his talks, and the staff never passes the collection plate at services—with one exception.

Late last year, they passed the plate. Instead of asking for donations, though, they gave them. During the church’s reverse tithe campaign, Fazal had envelopes containing a few dollars each distributed to the congregation with the challenge to use it to bless someone in the community in some way. Inspired, church members came up with some creative ways to do just that. Some bought movie tickets for The Nativity Story and gave them away at the door. Others pooled their money, purchased craft supplies and made wreaths to sell door to door, raising hundreds of dollars for two single mothers they located through the Mecklenburg County Department of Social Services. A Huntersville chiropractor was so inspired he gave $5 to each client who came into his office the next day, suggesting that they “pay it forward.”

The church as a whole tithes ten percent to the community. In addition to the reverse tithing campaign, it has hosted several local gas giveaways—“people couldn’t believe we were giving gas away, no strings attached,” Fazal says—and they donate a small percentage of each month’s collection to the Association of Related Churches, an organization that financially supports new churches. ARC loaned $30,000 to Mosaic, which it has already paid back in full.

Many churches would be starting a building campaign, saving money for a permanent structure. But Mosaic has no such plans. “Getting all dressed up to go visit a fancy building resembles monument worship to me. It distracts people from the real reason they’re there,” Fazal says. If Mosaic settles somewhere within the next few years, it’s more likely to be a renovated grocery store. “Why shouldn’t church just be in a familiar place where you can wear clothes you’re comfortable in?” Fazal adds. “Then we can put the money somewhere else in the community.”

Besides, Fazal estimates that at least half of Mosaic’s members haven’t stepped foot in a church in years. After a long absence, pushing open big, heavy doors in the shadow of a steeple feels strange and daunting. Breezing through the entrance of a theater feels familiar and easy.

“I never attended traditional church, so I don’t know what it’s like,” Fazal says. “But many Mosaic members say they felt as if religion was shoved down their throats when they were younger. They couldn’t see how religion was connected to reality, to their everyday lives. Church is bigger than a building, bigger than traditional rituals, bigger than ourselves. I focus on how I can help people live more like Christ in today’s world. It’s that simple.”

More than Summer Reading

Though I know my mother would (and will) argue...I am not a worrier. Admittedly, when I feel the the pressure of something that will effect my life, I do worry in those moments. And then (okay, mom) I am a worry wart. But I wouldn't say that it's something that consumes my day-to-day. I'm telling you all of this because yesterday (aaaaand okay, I'm still under the shadow of it today) I had a lot on my mind and I couldn't seem to shake it. Unfortunately, none of it is directly related to me. No, that's not true. They aren't "my" issues, but they do effect me - and 2 of the people that I love most in this world.

So as I start crying and talking to mom, she says (and I hate it when she does this), "You just have to ask yourself if you trust God to handle this? Do you trust God that He knows what's best for your life?" Besides taking my teardrops to sobs, she also gave me that just-been-slapped feeling. Which I know she didn't mean to do, but that's what happens when somebody lays the truth out in front of your face. I'm not even going to say that she made me feel better. Because that'd be a lie. But I did have those questions rolling around in the back of my mind for the rest of the day.

So before I went to work today, I drove to the library to pick up another book. I have been going through a new book every 3 days or so and knew that I'd have a lot of down time today while the baby was napping. I picked up "The Department of Lost and Found" by Allison Winn Scotch. And for the first time in my life, I read it in one sitting. Okay, maybe I didn't actually sit the whole time - there was a few hour break to play with the baby when he was up and actually do my job - but once he was back down to sleep around 8:00, I finished it. All in one day. And it's funny that God chose to use it to get my attention.

The story is about a 30 year old woman who finds out that she is diagnosed with breast cancer and the changes it has on her life. Let me share this one small part with you - the part that God used to bring me to tears and get my attention:

"...So when Mrs. Seidel adjusted the seventh wig, muttering in Yiddish under her breath as she pinned it on and brushed it out, even I was surprised to discover that I had to have it. The rich chocolate, nearly black, locks that cascaded down my back, landing just below the bra strap that crossed under my shoulder blades. When I turned my head side to side, the layers flowed effortlessly over one another, the light from the ceiling bouncing off them as if in an Herbal Essences commercial.

"This is it," I said. "This is the one."

Mrs. Seidel fluffed out the hair in her hands, and I swear, it felt as if she were combing out my own. I stared through the mirror and wondered if, in just a moment, you could reinvent yourself."

Can you follow my randomness here? The entire story in and of itself is wonderful (not depresssing in any way) and I highly recommend it. But the reason this got my attention was because, as I was reading it, I literally thought, "That's my hair. The color, the length, the layers...that is my hair that I recently cut and donated." No, before you get too worried, I'm not senile enough to think that a story character would have inhereted my actual ponytail, but it did put things into perspective. For one thing, it filled me with a sense of hope, rather than despair. And my attitude of worry immediately vanished. It also reminded me that God does have my life in His control (and the lives of those that I was worrying about) and there isn't anything I can do other than trust Him.

It doesn't mean that I can't pray about situations or wrestle with God for what I want. He says that we can do that. "Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know" as long as I keep it in perspective. I believe that God works in mysterious ways - stirring up in someone's heart to donate their hair when He knows that it's exactly the thing that will put hope back into someone else's life - and I just have to be reminded of that from time to time. The path to heaven is the one I want to be on...it's just got a lot of speedbumps along the way.