'I am sure God has a plan for my church. And, I'm pretty sure what we're doing isn't it.” These are two of the three concerns I heard repeatedly while doing a congregational visit where I met with every member one-on-one. (It was a very small congregation and that was possible.) The third, however, was the punchline: “And, I'm the only one who feels that way.”
As I reflected on this, I realized how often I have heard this articulated. In fact, I believe someone has expressed versions of these three concerns in every congregation I have visited. And I have visited a lot of congregations: I am the Congregational Development Consultant for the Synod of Central, Northeastern Ontario and Bermuda. I am (along with my fellow regional staff across the country) “on call” to congregations and presbyteries for all manner of things. We have explored stewardship, hospitality, change, stability and almost anything else you can imagine. I have also had the rare and precious experience of being with different congregations on a weekly basis. I meet with members, I meet in worship. I teach and train different groups and through all of this I get a snapshot of the denomination (or, at least my synod's corner of it) that most do not get to see. Yes, there are congregations and individuals making a real difference for the Kingdom of Heaven but,
this mantra – that God does have a plan for us (the denomination, or each of its individual churches), that we're not fulfilling the plan, and that we are alone in our struggles – may well be the prevalent theme.
What is the problem?
We have become obsessed with numbers: numbers of people and numbers of dollars. I am regularly asked to work with congregations to develop a viability plan. Usually, this is code for “how can we get enough people to pay our bills and keep our doors open.” Clearly money and numbers of people are not unimportant, but when we become preoccupied only with these numbers, we tend to view guests only as sources of revenue and sources of energy to do the tasks we are tired of doing. In other words we are more concerned with what others can do for us than what we (as Christians) can do for others. The most extreme version of this was the congregation that spoke of newcomers as “potential giving units.” (As in, “we only need 10 more 'potential giving units' to meet our budget this year.”) With this perspective, attending worship becomes more like a timeshare presentation for a guest than an encounter with a caring Christian community.
Recently, one of the largest churches in my community (not Presbyterian) publicly repented of its conduct in focussing exclusively on numeric growth. The members realized that growth, whether numerically or financially is not an appropriate Christian goal. In the Presbyterian Church, our most unfortunate action in this regard was our decision to “double in the 80s.” Not only didn't it work, it couldn't work and it shouldn't have worked. Numeric and financial growth can never be more than the by-product or result of obedience and health.
Congregations are increasingly anxious about their future; this is understandable. It is very difficult to see beyond declining membership and a deficit bank account. Often we deal with this anxiety by getting caught up in the “if only we had the right … something” conversation. “If only we had the right minister or the right location or the right musician or the right worship style or the right theology then everything would be right.” This is a dangerous road to travel: It seeks simplistic solutions to complex issues. The world is very different than it was even 20 years ago. Demographics have changed, we are all older, society has changed, the baby boom is over and stores are open Sundays – just to name a few things that make understanding the Church much more complex than we often assume. It is unrealistic to believe that changing only one factor (like the minister) will adequately answer a complicated question.
As we further consider this anxiety, however, it is a little harder to comprehend why we squander the opportunities we do have. Treating guests as sources of revenue or fresh blood is inappropriate. Treating guests rudely is even worse. Yet, I have heard too many stories of people who were ignored or even snubbed when first attending a new church. Interestingly this also includes those whom, having been heavily involved in their own church, moved to another community, and were treated so poorly by the churches they visited that they chose to stop worshipping altogether. Occasionally a guest is smothered with attention – like the friend who, on his first visit to another congregation, was asked to serve on the board of managers. This is also inappropriate; however, more often newcomers are ignored all together.
Most ministers are familiar with the truism that “most congregations consider themselves friendly but in reality are friendly only to each other.” I'm realizing even this isn't true. I recently heard that the longer a person attends a church, the less likely it is someone will call if they suddenly stop. I also know many who have gone through traumatic life changes (divorce, job loss, widowhood) and no other member of the church acknowledged it.
It is very difficult to overcome a survival mentality. It is also harder to change course the closer we are to the rocks. However, if we are honest about many of our bad habits, at the very least we need to ask ourselves whether worry, anxiety, a preoccupation with numbers or ignoring guests and fellow members are effective outreach strategies.
What is the plan?
If these factors cause the disquiet felt in our congregations, the next question must surely be, what is God's plan for our congregation?
I am regularly asked to come and lead visioning workshops for congregations. I have managed to avoid almost all these requests, not because I am opposed to doing them but because they almost never seem to work. Sometimes the act of crafting a vision is more important than enacting it. Other times we believe that if we apply a business model, we will get business results.
I was preaching at a small congregation; small enough that they couldn't afford a minister. After the service, a woman came up to me, shook my hand and said, “We need you to come be our minister, we need you to wake us up.” As I considered her words, I realized that this may be the real issue and not a lack of planning or vision.
Throughout the synod, I have had many different experiences of work and worship in many different congregations. I have experienced utterly contemporary worship, completely traditional worship and everything in between. I have listened to beautifully crafted sermons and wonderfully inspirational music. Worship has been theologically correct and presented decently and in good order. Rarely has it been passionate or exciting or challenging. Our worship tends to be heavy on the comfort of God's word and light on the demands.
I am reminded of the words of the preacher Erwin McManus who maintains that as Christians we shouldn't have to worry about going out to evangelize, we should simply live Christian lives that are interesting and exciting enough to attract others to the Gospel. He makes the point that most of our lives are too boring to draw others to Christ. (And yes, I include myself in that observation.) Likewise, we must wake people up in worship, wake them (and ourselves) up to a new life in Jesus Christ.
We don't need new plans. The Bible is very clear about what we need to be about. Our best starting point is simply to do what the Gospel demands. This is, however, easier said than done, for nothing happens without cost. As we consider this cost, we need to keep in mind the two great myths of the church:
- That we can have growth without change, and
- That we can have change without conflict.
Somehow we have come to believe that we can move forward without moving or that we can change without changing. This is not possible. Somehow we have also come to understand that if we just believe the right things or have the right kind of worship or the right kind of programs then our churches will turn around and we will stop our decline. There is no silver bullet. There is no easy answer. That does not mean that God is done with us. It does, however, call for a different understanding of what it means to be the Church.
As we consider what it means to be passionate and awake about our faith, an important observation is found in the cliché, “If you're gonna sell soap, you've got to take a bath.” We are not primarily in the business of building the Presbyterian Church; we are sharing what Jesus has done in our own lives. If we have no story to tell, if Jesus has not changed our lives, then it is next to impossible for him to change the lives of others through us. We need to be aware of and open to Christ's work in our hearts and we need to be willing to share this. In other words, as Christians and as the Church, we exist for the sake of the world; the world does not exist for us.
We must also realize that God blesses the prepared. It is only as we are willing to prepare ourselves, in prayer, in knowledge of God's word, in obedience and even in attitude that we will be able to expect that God will entrust us with the mission that needs to be fulfilled. As someone who follows the Prince of Peace, it is difficult for me to use military analogies to describe our relationship to the Kingdom. Still, the truth remains that we are people under orders and we have a mission to undertake. We need to understand that the mission is more important than the soldier and that we are assigned the mission only if we are useful and can make a difference.
We are going to die anyway. The Presbyterian Church in Canada may be here in a hundred years but we will not. Our question then is not “will we die?” it is “how will we die?” And more importantly, “how will we live?”
As a denomination we have found ourselves a survival mentality. At the very least, we need to acknowledge that surviving is not living and there are worse things than dying. If we are willing to let go of our need to survive, then we might find new life after all. This is certainly what Jesus suggests we do when He says, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self?” (Luke 9:23-25)
Am I the only one?
The final part of the mantra stated, “I'm the only one that feels that way.” Many people feel isolated in their own congregations. As I have already mentioned, some are isolated because of their own unmet needs: the widow that the people stop calling or the members who feel they have to leave the church because of a lost job or a divorce. These are the people we must minister to. Too often we ask people to fix themselves before they can come to church. Jesus taught that the opposite is true in Mark 2:16-18.
Another group of lonely and isolated Christians are also those who truly desire to make a difference but are overwhelmed by exhaustion, indifference or an inability to move the church forward. I can't list all the concerns I have heard so let me give four.
- The man who has had a profound life-changing experience of Jesus and can find no one to share it with.
- The woman who just wishes there could be a little more variety and joy in the music and worship.
- The minister who feels the pressure of building the congregation without changing anything.
- The family who want to serve Jesus and their church but are not welcome to do anything but menial tasks.
Sadly, it is often the people with the quietest voices or the least power who feel this way the most. As I have travelled and spoken with people throughout the synod, there is a great desire for things to be different and a great uncertainty about how to go about it. These are people who love God, who love the Presbyterian Church and are committed to the Church, but who feel that they cannot make a difference. They want to grow in their faith, they want their church to be serving the Lord, but they feel like they are the only ones. These people could be our most precious resource and the frustrating part is that we may be preparing them to leave, either to a church where they can make a difference or nowhere at all.
Solutions to isolation are not found in the business of the Church. These issues will not be solved by committees, nor can we organize ourselves out of them. They are found in our willingness to take responsibility for our own faith journey and our own community of faith. They are also found in the congregation's willingness to be open to the realization that we cannot grow and stay the same. We cannot serve God and not let ourselves be changed. Things will begin to change when we decide that we need to find other Christians who believe as we do and to get together. Things will begin to change when we choose to pray for our ministers and our elders and our denominational leaders and our neighbours who do not yet know Jesus and we actually do it. Things will begin to change when we choose acts of service and obedience which quietly and gently make a difference in the lives of others. Things will begin to change when we stop worrying and thinking about ourselves and start
thinking about others. Things will begin to change when we become passionate and excited about the work Christ is doing in our midst and begin to share it.
