My 10-week contract at the Record has now reached its 60th month. Over the years I have been privileged (as I’ve said before) to sit in the best seat in the house to witness a church go through some powerful growth pains. That growth is not in numbers — as David Harris noted last month in his editorial, the numbers continue to drop: the number of subscribers, the number of church members. This bad news will continue unabated — but is this a bad thing?
Well, of course it is, you know … I have a mortgage to cover and fewer readers of this wonderful monthly makes that tougher. Similarly, shrinking memberships apply greater pressure on heating and human resources bills. Pulpits go empty because the small handful of the faithful can’t raise the funds to pay for a minister. No ministers means the others in presbytery have to do more of the work. But, they already have too much on their hands — their congregations are struggling; there aren’t the supports available two decades ago. And what about the missions? The missions need support. And: cultural and societal cache is slipping away; in an era of post-this and multi-that the church is stripped of its power and position. It is the naked church, without the finery of custom, tradition, ritual, even history and perhaps even hierarchy.
To which I have only one thought: God must be smiling!
So, what is this new thing called church?
Since it is my fifth anniversary this month let me be a bit self-aggrandizing: what is church? In this issue you’ll find Rev. David Webber asks that question. And Rev. Calvin Brown. And Rev. Dr. Roland DeVries. And Liz Stark, who is reverential when it comes to her passion for mission. In fact I like to think everything published every month in this magazine asks that question.
I stepped away from my post the past two months and handed this column over to two people whose combined age does not equal mine. I hope you read them: they talked about church. They discussed their vision of church. Alex Luyckx learned another way to pray. Alex has been involved in Presbyterian youth programs for years — his faith is deep and sincere and powerful. And there he was at Canada Youth 2009 learning something; something basic and primal, all over again. That’s a story of rebirth; a lesson, a parable for us all.
And Christina Gillard wrote about being at General Assembly. She wrote: “I came to assembly expecting my faith to be lessened. I expected the political aspects to overpower the spiritual aspects. I thought that, through knowledge of the inner struggles of our church, I would lose my centre and faith in our system. I came ignorant but left enlightened. We [YARs] left with a faith that was rooted in our hearts and a community made stronger by our love in Christ.”
Another parable of somebody who feared she was going to enter (and this is me putting words into her mouth) the valley of the shadow of death. And she feared no evil. In fact, she grew stronger. What a story!
So, what is this new thing called church? It’s Alex and Christina; and not just because they’re young because they will grow older (it happens to the best of us) and through their twenties and thirties enter those dark years when the church does everything it can to shut out their voices. No, it’s Christina and Alex and Liz and tens of thousands who are willing to test their faith, deepen it, to expand their horizons and self awareness, to not only find new ways of doing things but richer ways of experiencing God in their lives.
And I get to witness this. Watching the steady disassembling of the Ozymandian church, smug in its power, ossified in its rituals and rules, it is easy to give up hope, to turn away. But from my particular view, looking out across my desk, I see thousands of faint lights and I realize that is the church. Not the darkness, but those flickering candles.
