It seems it is a confusing time to be a member of the institutional church. I went by a church sign recently that read: “The wages of sin is death. All welcome.”
I’ve been hearing a lot of questions these days throughout our church—questions that are endeavoring to wrestle with the realities of church decline in our day. In my travels this year I’ve had many opportunities to meet with people in many congregations and ministries across the country. And I’ll say it’s been a profound privilege to hear them share stories of joy, growth and celebration.
On the other hand, often the world is crying one thing and church is not hearing the same message. Perhaps we’re like the man who was telling his neighbour: “I just bought a new hearing aid. It cost me $4,000 but it’s state of the art. It’s fabulous.”
“Really?” answered the neighbor. “What kind is it?”
“12:30!” replied the man.
What comes as a concern to me is that many of these questions that are crossing each other in confusion are all seeking to address the same issues. And they break out into essentially two categories: The one is how do we grow or gain more members? And the other is how do we help this beloved institution of the Presbyterian Church in Canada to survive and flourish? On the surface they seem like fair enough questions. I would suggest that all of us here have a vested interest in what their answers might tell us.
But I want to tell you this evening that I think they’re not the best questions to ask at this time in our life, at this time in our history, because they are so institutionally focused and framed. Instead I think our pointed, perhaps searing question should be something more like this: Who are we helping in the name of Jesus Christ? That is to say, a missionally focused church is called to care far more about persons than about maintenance and survival.
So let me say just a few things about the decline of the church. The decline of church is not brought about by a decline in religion. In fact we know that interest in religion and things of the spirit is soaring in our time. The problem is that this interest in religion is not connected with institutional church. The decline is in church. Not religion.
There are at least four reasons for this decline, and probably a whole number more, but four reasons speak to me. First, the decline in social conformity. Second, the increase in freedom of choice. Third, the increase in new forms of social conformity that do not include church. And fourth, the lingering of customs, habits and traditions of churched culture that no longer work on a mission field.
The truth is we counted on social conformity too much to deliver people to our churches. We have waited for them to find us, as though going to church was the expected social norm. We can give thanks to God for the decline in social conformity because we’re more likely now than ever before to seek people out. We’re more likely now to share mission and evangelism in the community. We’re more likely now to do what Christ has always invited us to do. Because the church is at its best in a mission field setting.
We’re also a people who believe in freedom of choice. I wouldn’t want to advocate the opposite. So the more choices available, the more likely the church is to be at its best—recognizing that people are different; we don’t all worship the same way; we don’t all value the same things. More choices push us to share the mission at its very best.
The third reason for the decline in the church is the increase of new forms of social conformity—new forms that do not include church. Social conformity has not gone away, but it no longer includes church. It does include a wide range of informal and formal social, recreational, political, athletic and community groups. We might invest some time prophetically challenging the current forms of social conformity, but we might also do well to take a hard look at our own house and how it could benefit from some substantive changes in our own practices. Like moving from long-term commitment opportunities, say weekly Bible study, to short-term intensive studies, where people say, “I can’t give you every Tuesday night for the next 52 weeks. But I’ll give you six, and I’ll do my best to not miss.” People in our time are sprinters, not marathoners so much.
And the fourth reason for decline in the church, I believe, is a foremost one: The lingering of customs, habits and traditions of the former churched culture that no longer work in a mission fiend. We need to let go of behaviours of the past that no longer speak to people’s life searches in the present. We need to discover new ways to be the church that reflect Christ’s intentions from the beginning. That we be those disciples that offer help and hope in his name to those around us.
In the gospel of John, Chapter 21, we discover a stranger standing on the shoreline. The disciples don’t know it’s Jesus. This is the third post-Resurrection appearance in John. And this stranger, seeing the disciples out in a boat fishing, asks a simple question: “Have you caught any fish?”
And the answer that all fisherpersons hate to give is, “No.” They’d been fishing all night with no success.
Following the Resurrection they didn’t know what to do next. Peter said, “I guess I’ll go back to fishing.” Some of the disciples said, “We’ll go with you.”
Sometimes we feel we don’t know what to do either. And that boat, that old boat we knew so well for so long… It’s so comfortable. My, how old ways die hard.
But as their fishing night wore on, they discovered not even the old ways worked anymore. They used to be pretty good fishermen. They tried all the old spots where in years past they had always caught fish. Nothing. Early that morning they are near the shore. Their boat is empty of fish and they are filled with despair.
Then the stranger on the shore invites them: “Cast your nets on the right side of the boat.”
And they did. The first miracle is that they did. We sometimes think the miracle is the great catch of fish; well, that’s the second miracle. The first miracle is that they did. They could have ignored the stranger. They could have rowed the other way. They could have appointed a special committee to study and report. They could have said, “That won’t work.” Or, get ready for it: “We’ve never done it that way before.”
But the miracle is they did it. They took a risk.
There’s a story told of a monastery in Portugal, perched high on a 3,000 foot cliff accessible only by a terrifying ride up in a swaying basket. The basket is pulled with a single rope by several strong men perspiring under the strain of the fully loaded basket. One tourist who visited the site got nervous halfway up the cliff when he noticed the rope was old and frayed and, hoping to relieve his fear, he asked: “How often do you change the rope?”
The monk in charge replied, “Whenever it breaks.”
The disciples took a risk. We do discover new ways. And yes, the second, more predictable miracle, I suppose, is that now the nets are loaded with fish. New ways do work.
But there’s a third miracle, I think, in this story. A miracle of illumination and clarity. And it’s in the words of the disciple whom Jesus loved. “It is the Lord!” Until they cast their nets on the right side, he was just a stranger on the shore. Now having cast their nets differently, they discover that the stranger is the Christ. Peter, never one for sober second thought, throws himself into the sea and rushes to the shore. And the disciples pull in the net and hurry in the boat to see Jesus.
Here’s the thing: It is in casting our nets that we discover Christ. Oh, we can discover Christ and then cast our nets. But in sharing the mission we discover the present and powerful Lord. And as we discover him daily, present in the mission we share, we are led to worship him all the more. Every time you hear the exciting stories of those who went on a mission trip and came home transformed; every time you hear the passion in the voices of those who serve the downtrodden and the marginalized in our society; every time you give a portion of yourself away in order to bring hope and comfort to someone in need and feel energized and blessed by your action—you discover Jesus deeply present in the acts of love and mercy that you share. That you risk.
The loving, living, growing church of Jesus Christ is a church with the mission of caring at its heart. Addressing real, human hurts and hopes through the gifts God has given you and me to share in Christ’s name every day.
It’s not easy. But it’s clear. If you want to see Jesus, then serve like Jesus.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
