1. Goals are not defined.

Many congregations work hard to draft mission statements that end up with some form of “To Make Christ Known.” That’s hard to define and harder to measure. The result? Congregations work at finding more members to fund old ideas. Nothing really changes.

 

We can’t demand change without defining goals. Goals of laity are often very different than those of clergy. All the more reason to have a meeting of the minds to choose and prioritize goals.

 

WHAT TO DO: Define your goal. How do you want to change? Don’t just say “We want more families.” Look at your community realistically. Forget for a moment what you want. Instead ask: Who can we serve? How can we serve? Set multiple goals—attendance, budget, inclusiveness, service, and most important, effectiveness.

 

2. We assume tradition defines the rules.

Laity get frustrated with demands for change. It often seems we are expected to produce miracles while everything around us stays the same. Churches hold more than God sacred!

• What is allowed to change? It is likely that there are possibilities that are never considered because people assume things have to be done in certain ways.
• What must remain the same?
• Can we change the relationships between clergy and members? Can we divide the work load differently?
• Can we change the way we use physical space? The sanctuary? The classrooms? The surrounding land? Are there benefits to doing things off-site?
• Can we change the way we spend and invest money?
• Can we change the ways we deliver the message? Can we use social media? Can we change worship style? Can we change the schedule? Who is in charge of these decisions? What oversight is needed?

 

WHAT TO DO: Spend time asking and answering these and other questions. You might find there are hidden possibilities.

 

3. We cannot visualize change.

Sometimes the cries for change are rooted in nostalgia. We make better use of our rearview mirror than our crystal ball. A return to the past is impossible. So what will the Church of the future look like? Visualizing this will help us look outward.

 

WHAT TO DO: Check your mission statement. Does it demand anything of your congregation? If it doesn’t, start over. A mission statement should point to action. When you are satisfied with you mission statement, USE IT! Measure every action taken by you governing board or auxiliary groups by your mission statement. Refer to the mission statement at meetings and worship. Recite it together whenever you gather.

 

4. We don’t allow for failure.

Failure is part of change. Failures are stepping stones. Congregations have to be able to work through difficulties. That means taking risks. They cannot do this if regional bodies are monitoring them for failure and if leadership, local or regional, sees its role as protecting assets.

 

WHAT TO DO: Have an ongoing discussion with your congregation about what you are willing to risk to achieve mission. Be flexible in making plans. Always have a Plan B. Help your congregation celebrate success and honor efforts that seem to fail. Sometimes efforts that seem to have failed are necessary steps to eventual success.

 

5. We expect change to happen on a prescribed schedule.

Progress is best made with baby steps. Any leader who comes into a congregation with an action plan that uproots everything and dictates prescribed steps and timetables is putting a congregation at serious risk. Putting process before results fails to recognize the unique character of each congregation. When it fails—and it will—the congregation will be left feeling inadequate, when in reality they weren’t really part of the process at all.

 

Congregations need confidence. That confidence will radiate their message. If they are in a downward trend (and most congregations are), they need to rebuild their sense of worth and security in order to succeed at welcoming others.

 

WHAT TO DO: Study the work of B.J. Fogg.  The role of leader is to motivate and facilitate change not to issue orders. Help your congregation identify abilities. Find what motivates and triggers or activates your community. Help your congregation love itself again—all the better to love others.

 

6. We protect what we create.

Recently, a denomination created worship resources to help congregations address the tragic killings in American churches. In an effort to address a timely issue, they put the resources online. Great! But they password protected the resources so only their denomination or people who paid could access the worship resources. (We assume God has the password.) The thinking is economic. Pay to pray. We wrote this conversation with God. If there is money to be had in sharing, it belongs to us.

 

Remember, they were addressing a current national crisis. The message they sent was that they have answers to current problems but won’t offer them without compensation—either monetary or to add to an email list. Is peace an issue we want to copyright?

 

You don’t want the people to think you care first about your bottom line and helping others second. Think of the message they would send if they distribute resources to churches for free in a form that encouraged sharing—especially in times of crisis.

 

WHAT TO DO: As you plan for change, consider how your efforts are perceived. Be prepared to give without expecting financial benefit.

 

7. We expect change to be led by large, healthy congregations.

Large, flagship churches have the means for change but they lack motivation. Money is still available. Bills are paid regularly. They can try to reach the troubled, but they are often isolated from the threatened and disadvantaged. Meanwhile, things will be fine for them whether or not they change.

 

Change almost always comes from unexpected places and often from people whose authority is outside convention. The Bible is full of examples. Abraham and Sarah. Jacob. Moses. Ruth and Naomi. Saul. David. John the Baptist. Mary. Peter, Paul. A host of saints! Is this type of serendipity possible today?

 

WHAT TO DO: Look for change agents in your neighborhood within and outside your congregation. Create an atmosphere where they can prosper. Explore teamwork. Network with other groups, religious and secular.

 

8. We look to clergy to lead change.

Clergy are probably the professionals slowest to embrace modern change. They entered a profession with ancient roots and have a vested interest in things staying the same or returning to how things used to be.

 

WHAT TO DO: Ask your leaders what they need to lead change? Do they need help with the internet? Do they need training? Do they need partners? Demand that clergy use modern tools! Let your seminaries know what you need from professional leaders in order to change. Seminaries are used to hearing from clergy. If congregations never let them know what they need, they will keep training clergy in what they think we need!)

 

9. We assign the role of follower to all laity.

Ironically, today, when the laity are often as well educated as clergy, we still think of laity as a volunteer pool to fulfill traditional roles that barely tap their talents.

 

Laity have been instrumental in major church movements in the past. Start with 12 disciples. Move on to Paul and friends. Now jump ahead 1700 years. The Sunday School movement started in the late 18th century and prospered through the 19th and early 20th centuries. The Sunday School was responsible for the sense of community and service that grew the Church of the 1940s and 1950s. Ah! The halcyon days! The Movement was lay-led. Even today in some areas Sunday Schools operate separately from the governing structure of host churches with their own budgets and boards.

 

WHAT TO DO: Unleash your laity. Give them ownership of mission. We might surprise you! Let them develop internet ministry. Let people in on the planning. Here is just one small idea to use as a test. Each week, run a poll online. List five or six hymns appropriate for your next week’s worship (you still have control). Then poll the congregation. Use the top two or three. People will feel some ownership of their worship.

 

10. We market resources to those with the ability to pay for them.

Makes sense—unless your mission includes reaching people who are less advantaged. Small church leaders often complain that resources provided by their denominations aren’t helpful to them. Yet church publishers develop and market to the stereotype and to their vision. Statistically, as many as 80% of congregations are small. How can we provide quality resources geared to their situations and budgets?

 

WHAT TO DO: Experiment. Leaders of small churches may be on their own for a while but the internet opens possibility.

 

11. We don’t measure.

And when we do, we don’t measure the right things! When things aren’t going well, we stop paying attention to statistics. We accept and pay for years of ministry with no progress.

 

WHAT TO DO: If your congregation is spending all its resources without measurable improvement, figure out what can be changed. Don’t expect magic. Start small. Chalk up some measurable successes even if they are very small.

 

12. The voice of the Church is carefully controlled.

There is no place in free society that makes freedom of expression more difficult. Worship is generally prescribed by the denomination. Pastors work with carefully chosen support staff to shape the experience. Homogenous congregations are more likely to accept and thrive this way. Reaching people who are unaccustomed to this control will be an uphill struggle. As our society restructures from the vertical leadership model of the past to a more horizontal, participatory model, this will become harder to sustain.

 

The web creates voice. Many pastors don’t have the skills to evangelize on the web and don’t trust anyone else to do it. And so we stick to communication styles of the past. Church publications are clergy led. Letters to the editor are moderated by clergy. Voting is representative but the representatives are likely to be chosen by a stellar ability to follow. Change agents are not welcome—no matter what the sign on the door says!

 

One of the most popular bishops in church history was called without being either baptized or particularly interested in Church. (St. Ambrose)

 

The number of saints who flunked Choirboy 101 are many (Francis, Augustine)

 

WHAT TO DO: Invite speakers from unusual places (other faiths, different neighborhoods). Find the people in your congregation who can use the internet. Give them room to work. If a valuable viewpoint surfaces in Bible Study or over coffee, encourage the person to share by writing a post or speaking.

 

13. We suffer from “not my job syndrome.”

Many churches are trapped in this hideous cycle. Congregants look to pastors to do the work of creating change. Pastors expect the laity to provide manpower to implement prescribed strategies. No one takes responsibility. Fingers are pointed. Peace is found in prayer without action.

 

WHAT TO DO: Start a conversation in your congregation about roles in the Church. Ask people to identify their interest and skills. Don’t just look for people to fill pre-defined needs. Ask: How do you see your talents serving God? Then help them do it.

 

14. We equate peace with health.

Change requires tension—tension that might be resolved in great ways. Truly healthy churches allow healthy tension and learn to deal with it in nonjudgmental ways.

 

WHAT TO DO: Create a safe place for differing viewpoints. This is tricky. The first unintentional, patronizing comment will shut down all dialogue. Visionaries need time to test the water,

 

15. We believe that someone has all the answers.

If there were someone in church leadership with all the answers, their wisdom would be packaged and distributed throughout the Church with success close behind. Answers are more likely to be found within your community.

 

WHAT TO DO: Make sure there opportunity for people to weigh in on issues facing your congregation. Make room for them to act on their ideas. Side with faith and hope, not blind tradition.

 

16. We rely on labels.

This is particularly prevalent among church leaders. They characterize congregations and assign labels. Oddly, labels usually emphasize the negative. Psychologists know that people live to labels. Congregations do, too. Are your women labeled as teachers and social hosts? Are your men labeled as board members and property experts? Are your youth labeled? How about your visitors? Labels limit.

 

WHAT TO DO: Stop thinking in terms of labels. Love one another.

 

17. We don’t believe our message.

Although last on the lift, tackling this is foundational to success. It is difficult to ask others to believe in God when we feel lost, weak, and forsaken. Church failure reflects insecurity. We want to believe God loves, redeems and empowers. Our doubt has us measuring success by our own well-being. If we are OK with God, that’s enough.

 

WHAT TO DO: How empowering was the revelation that Mother Teresa wrestled with doubts! We all need encouragement. Small steps. Small successes. Less criticism. Less judgment. Education is also key. Explore challenges faced by biblical leaders and the saints. The internet makes it possible to do this without expecting people to come out for formal classes.

 

 

What do we do with hurt and anger?

 

The Bible tells us to talk about it, take it up with those who have hurt you. But Church often makes its own advice impossible.

 

Our church members, excluded from our denomination eight years ago, are no less faithful than we were when our doors were not padlocked.

 

We’ve been effectively shunned for nearly a decade, as un-Lutheran as that is.

 

Most of our members are still in touch despite other Lutherans voting to close our congregation and claiming our land (against their own governing laws). Some of us meet every Sunday morning. Some drift, catching up occasionally in smaller gatherings. We were working on a community project this summer and members we hadn’t heard from in a while were showing interest. Then Lutheran leaders returned to our neighborhood, which they had abandoned in mission, to cause more trouble.

 

We visited more than 80 churches after we were locked out. None went out of their way to attract us as members, even those nearby.

 

We are a spiritual people. Even at social gatherings, someone is likely to pull out a reading or news item and start a conversation—the kind we used to have in church. We can count on one of us stepping in to temper heated conversations. But then that was always a strong Redeemer trait. We made peace just as easily as we argued, so we had no reason to avoid confrontation—as healthy as it is unusual in the Church.

 

A member of one church that befriends us comments that we seem to be a joyful people—that we have met bad treatment with strength and good humor.

 

A good observation. We are positive and we continue to use our various talents.

 

As reassuring as this is, it doesn’t erase the pain that we experienced at the hands of our regional body. It’s been eight years for some. Those of us with longer involvement can remember back to the earliest days of the synod, when we first had to defend our endowment from the claims of a struggling Lutheran agency. We were successful. Ten years later, and after two years of working at it, we were successful again when the synod raided our bank account. We were unsuccessful (so far) in the latest attempt that followed the last by another ten years. Every ten years seems to be the cycle. (Two years to go to the next!) Our money and land values were centric to all problems. Hateful rhetoric fueled the cause. Had no outside eyes coveted our assets, there would have been no conflict.

 

Most of the time we get by without thinking about it. We like being happy. Nevertheless, eight years of struggle are not easily forgotten. Nor should they.

 

Last week, I saw an advertisement for a holiday choir. I suggested we try it. We’ve been locked out of church on Christmas Eve for six years now. It might be nice to have some way to enjoy Christmas together, doing something we were pretty good at—making music.

 

Rehearsals were in a Presbyterian Church—safe ground. I always say, I could be Presbyterian, but I was predestined to be Lutheran. So two of us went to a rehearsal. It seemed like a good group with excellent musicality and the potential for new connections and friendships.

 

But then, we encountered our former choir director. She has been gone from our congregation for nearly 20 years, but we know she still has Lutheran connections and some of those connections are to people who were involved behind the scenes in hurting us. It was discomfiting. Would our presence feed the insatiable appetite of the Lutheran gossip mill?

 

Excluded for so long, we were suddenly present with someone who knew us. She knew what was being done to us. She may have done nothing to further that, but as far as we can tell, she and hundreds of others did nothing to stop it. We’d have to overlook the elephant in the room at every rehearsal, pretending to not be hurt.

 

Lutherans, those who don’t ignore us completely, give us cheap, self-serving advice. “Just move on.” Translation: “Make taking what belongs to you easy for us, please.”

 

There are no suggestions for how to do that. Forgiving is easy. We have not been allowed to forget. Every time we try to reestablish ourselves in our own neighborhood, carpet-bagging Lutheran leaders return and start defaming us to our neighbors (as evidenced this summer).

 

There is lots of talk about us and very little talk to us—a tactic of all bullies.

 

What do we do with our feelings? Ignoring bad behavior gives it license.

 

And now, how do we sing together of love and peace when we have experienced so much hurt?

 

If we can feel so vulnerable after only a decade of abuse, how lonely those in our society must feel after centuries of hate and prejudice.

 

How do hurt Christians deal with such feelings? We continue our mission with what was left to us. Fortunately, time and talent have more mission potential than dollars!

 

As for me, I write.

It Has to Be Carefully Taught

Hatred is learned. What is learned is taught.

 

No one is born hating those of a different race or religion. A babe in arms will gaze into blue or brown eyes with equal expectation that the face looking back will smile.

 

Hate doesn’t cause us to take advantage of other people. Selfishness and opportunity seize that moment. Power sustains it.

 

We didn’t enslave black people because we hated them. We enslaved them to solve economic problems. Hatred justifies obvious injustice. It embeds itself in our culture when the advantages we claimed as rights are challenged. Hatred is a weapon.

 

Hatred is never far behind fear—fear of losing status, way of life, riches and power.

 

Hatred has an eye for detail. Hatred focuses on details that threaten us in no way—clothing, facial features, taste for music, food—things which identify differences. We teach our children to recognize identifying characteristics in the jokes we tell. We playfully justify our need to do maintain supremacy.

 

Every crime is a hate crime. Hatred is a tool of evil.

 

In our country, hate often focuses on race. Racial differences are no longer threatening. Today’s residual racial hatred stems from a dying past. As it dies, it is likely to flare up now and then, attacking the weakest—unarmed children or small groups. Although it is dying, it is still powerfully hurtful.

 

Today’s perceived threats are cultural. We fear those who worship differently, speak different languages, or live differently. Loving them might cost us jobs, opportunities and value systems that we accept as God-ordained.

 

We worship a God that sent His Son to teach love. There is a reason part of His message is to live without fear.

A nearby suburban church posted a sign on their property. Three words. You’ve heard them before.

 

People saw the sign. Some were outraged.

 

The three simple words seem harmless enough. The terse message leaves enough room for people to draw unintended conclusions—not necessarily the same conclusions. Some felt personally criticized. Some felt the sign was disrespectful to law enforcement.

 

It might just be that the sign linked them to issues they thought they had escaped.

 

Race is a sensitive issue! And complicated. And difficult to recognize close to home.

 

The pastor wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper apologizing and inviting conversation.

 

This raises a question. Is the Church in a position to lead this discussion? Our record for dealing with racial issues and ministering in inclusive ways is not olympian by any means!

 

The ELCA is at the lowest rung among predominantly white denominations on inclusion. We are 96% white and the 2% that is black is largely living in some ecclesiastic version of Separate but Equal. The rest of society faced this inequality long ago!

 

Our congregation’s experience with the ELCA and race has been horrific and can illustrate many of the shortcomings Lutheran leadership probably doesn’t recognize.

 

Taking the Pollyanna View

One obstacle is the tendency to assume that leaders automatically make wise decisions. Leaders can stand in the pulpit, high above the people, and propose remedies that are based on NO experience actually dealing with the challenges and blessings of racial diversity. Most Lutherans who reach regional and national leadership positions get elected because of the name recognition that comes from serving larger churches. White Lutherandom!

 

Did they live close to the crime that resulted from the government-sponsored high-rise housing projects that imported and isolated new populations in neighborhoods almost overnight? Did their children attend public schools dealing with sudden, widespread change with little time to prepare and poor funding.

 

Yet many Lutheran laity remained in urban neighborhoods, dedicated to trying, with little voice within the denomination and inadequate professional leadership. Our needs were not a priority and were ignored for decades.

 

The Prejudice Created by White Flight

I was in junior high school in 1968 when streets in cities across America erupted in violence following the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

White Flight began. Many Lutherans pursued happiness and hoped to find it in the suburbs. There is nothing wrong with people seeking better lives, but can suburban congregations now lead discussion on issues they left behind?

 

I went the opposite direction. I left a 100% white village in coal-mining, steel-producing western Pennsylvania and moved to Philadelphia, where I stayed for 35 years. The first neighborhood I lived in was Southwark—a predominantly low-income, black neighborhood. I moved to East Falls, a changing working class neighborhood within a year. (The headquarters of the Lutheran Church in America were here. Ironically, the pastors who worked there and lived in our neighborhood attended churches in other neighborhoods.)

 

The worst aspects of White Flight happened long after early waves of departure. I believe they are still happening today.

 

A friend of mine from Philadelphia’s Black Catholic community speaks with bitterness of how the Catholic Church targeted black congregations for closure, favoring neighborhoods with white members. The properties in the black neighborhoods were sold to benefit the diocese.

 

The same thing is happening within the ELCA.

 

Suburban churches became comfortable places to serve. It wasn’t long before urban congregations had to make do with retired or part-time pastors.

 

“Changing Demographics” Is A Racist Euphemism

Most urban neighborhoods remained well-populated, but the faces are darker and the languages spoken are not English.

 

Instead of seeing this societal change as an opportunity to spread our denomination’s influence (mission), the strategy of Church leaders was to mark time. Be kind to congregations as they waited for death (anti-mission).  Invest nothing; do nothing to reach changed demographics. The message from the Church is clear. Black and brown lives do not matter as much as white lives.

 

Little effort was put into mission. Pastors continued to be trained to serve the congregations that resembled the past—suburban congregations. Laity had a better grasp of what was going on in their neighborhoods but had no voice. As things worsen, Church Consultants are called in to prepare the congregation for doom. The congregation will be required to pay the hefty consulting fees, but the consultants will report to the regional body. They’ll talk with the congregation to gain support for their fore-drawn conclusion. They will issue a report that cites “changing demographics,” referencing for $1000 or more the census statistics that are available to anyone for free. They will officially recommend and validate closure, the only plan all along.

 

Mission requires vision. Dollars cloud vision. Serving changing demographics is work many denominations are ill-prepared to take on.

 

Regional Bodies Abandon Changing Neighborhoods

This published strategy is taught to regional leaders (Transforming Regional Bodies): Triage the congregations. Provide only palliative care to the smallest. Assist them in dying.

 

This last step creates legal challenges. Lutheran congregations are allowed to disperse their assets to qualified organizations as they choose. But regional ELCA leaders devised methods to make sure they had first and exclusive dibs. They require congregations to accept mission status in order to receive any services from their regional body. Mission church property goes to the synod. If the congregation realizes this, things can get nasty. Other Lutherans benefit from seized assets of other churches and have incentive to look the other way. Guns are not needed when unfettered power can do the same damage.

 

Our bishop made an outrageous suggestion when we started to successfully reach our changing demographics. She saw ten years of neglect going down the drain. We were growing when we were supposed to be dying! They were counting on our endowment and property saving their deficit budget.

 

She, a coauthor of the book referenced above, asked a retired pastor and member of our congregation to lead black members of our congregation to a church she identified as a place where they “would better fit in.” When the congregation learned this, one of our black members shared that a synod representative had approached him ten years before with the same suggestion. Our black members were treated as if they were not able to choose their own faith community—twice in ten years. This is not a mistake. It’s a serious character flaw.

 

Why did SEPA take this action? It wasn’t direct hatred of black people. Neither was slavery. Hatred comes when a once-reliable power system breaks down. Racism is usually rooted in politics and economics. In early America, rich land owners needed cheap labor. In the Church, regional bodies can no longer depend on offerings. They covet land and endowments. There is a constitutional provision that gives the bishop the right to interfere in a congregation’s mission if the membership is scattered or diminished. She and SEPA needed our numbers to be diminished to justify seizing property and bank accounts. So our bishop attempted to orchestrate the exodus of 60+ black members. In fact, even though they never left, the report given to the Synod Assembly excluded them!

 

Interestingly, the approach is about making the regional body strong—not making congregations strong. Regional bodies exist to serve congregations. Topsy turvy thinking!

 

Dollars matter more than lives: black or white!

 

The Theology of Squandering Urban Assets

Many a congregation’s assets were squandered on years of salaries paid to clergy who had no intention of doing any more than caring for existing members and preaching to dwindling numbers on Sunday morning. I’ve heard seminary leaders refer to these congregations as “on life support.” The pastors serving them are called “caretaker” pastors. Some leaders even jokingly call them “undertaker” pastors. Congregations aren’t in on the jokes. They think they are paying for the real deal—pastors who will lead them into the future. They might take matters into their own hands if they learn they are paying for planned failure.

 

A theology was created to justify the approach. The Resurrection Story is routinely cited as justification. Resulting strategies are not biblical! They will insist that the existing congregation close. They’ll make members feel like they weren’t good enough—like their lives don’t matter. This serves an unstated purpose—gaining rights to property and control of bank accounts. They might try to reopen the church under their management, but they are likely to fail and more likely to not try at all. The practice perverts the Resurrection Story. Jesus died so that we can live.

 

The ELCA should study these strategies to determine if they have any mission value that is sustainable.

 

Play the Race Card

Ironically, church leaders play the race card. It has emotional power and emotions are valuable when reason needs to be avoided! Much of this will take place without the knowledge of the congregation. Pastors gossip about the congregations they are eyeing for closure. No one will ask questions if they violate constitutions while fighting racism! This pamphlet describes our experience. Congregations that are called racist can expect harsh treatment, whether or not the charges are true. In our case 160 congregations including at least 200 clergy followed leaders without question. Only one congregation voted with the constitution. They left the ELCA shortly afterwards. They were as small or smaller than Redeemer. They were mostly white. They left with their property.

 

Racism and hatred go hand in hand.

 

Perhaps the Church should listen and conduct some serious self-examination before trying to lead others?

 

 

 

The Problem with Clergy-Written
Leadership Online Forums

I follow a number of clergy leadership forums. Some of the topics are so stale you’d crack your teeth if you tried to bite into them. The advice dispensed by today’s up and coming 40-year-old pastors was published pre-internet by the 40-year-old movers and shakers of previous generations. It often didn’t work then.

 

Some of the advice is dreadful. It’s clergy talking to clergy. Laity are pawns. This adds to the great gulf between clergy and laity.

 

This gulf is new.

 

Think back to yesteryear—back when large churches were rare and before mega-churches existed—when 90% of pastors knew the their calling meant serving congregations of 200 active members, more or often less. (By the way, statistics show it still is!)

 

Churches with 200 members or less rely heavily on lay leadership. That may be the science behind the fact that most congregations fit into this category. It’s the way things are supposed to be! The yearning to grow into the thousands may be futile.

 

Back then, if an outsider asked a member “Who leads your church?”, the answer might start with the pastor but they would likely add the names of a few prominent lay members. In our congregation’s 80 visits to other congregations we still saw this on occasion—rare occasion.

 

Back then, clergy knew there were two ways out of a crisis. Prayerfully leave or prayerfully work with the people. Moving rarely meant a step up. Most congregations were about the same size. There was incentive to work with congregations. Today’s movement toward interim pastoring makes moving the norm—but congregations will be judged on longevity of their calls. As more pastors prepare for shorter calls, congregations are deemed failures if calls last less than seven years.

 

Today’s clergy advice is written with a career-minded point of view. The people in the pew are left feeling they can never be good enough—that our God-given talents are unrecognized in the Church.

 

Here is advice about dealing with congregational problems that is rarely dispensed by clergy bloggers.

 

Stop. Look. Listen.

 

Go to your church members. We may have knowledge and wisdom that outside consultants won’t be able to ferret out with a dozen weekend retreats. Don’t wait for problems. Take the long route. Talk to members one to one, face to face. Be sensitive. Never betray their trust. If you listen to people regularly, before there are challenges, the challenges will be not become confrontations.

 

Actually, most denominational constitutions call for this.

 

Instead of taking the time to follow constitutional guidelines, leaders often craft workarounds to achieve their desired results quickly. They’ll document their successes before they have a chance to fail. Not surprisingly, they become clergy-centric. Preserving the integrity of the work-around becomes mission.

 

Workarounds can cause considerable damage to faith communities. If outside eyes review church failure carefully, I suspect they would discover a tap root of church decline. You see, in today’s world, if people feel they have no voice or purpose, they go where they feel useful and loved.

 

Then the people with all the leadership know-how stand at their end of the sanctuary all alone.

 

Good news! It can be turned around. Start now. Stop. Look. Listen.

How do we plug the dike?

I write about this topic a lot. I have no idea if it makes a difference, but I don’t see things getting better in the Church until somebody recognizes a few things. So I’ll keep jousting.

 

Everybody knows churches struggle today.

 

Most of the dialog about this phenomenon takes place in clergy circles. They look for answers. Some think they have them. There is little proof that the few successful church growers will sustain their success beyond their personal involvement.

 

You see there are two types of Christians—those who occupy the tiny altar side of the chancel rail and those on the deep and wide pew side.

 

On the chancel side: Clergy talk to clergy. Clergy write for a clergy audience.

 

Things are not much different from the other side of the chancel rail. Laity talk to laity. Not many laity write about the issues though! It’s dangerous!

 

The problems of today’s Church cannot be addressed without this changing and yet despite all the calls for change and transformation this dichotomy remains unchallenged.

 

There will not be more people in churches until people feel more a part of what’s going on.

 

TALK TO US! And LISTEN.

 

I’ll refer to a blog post I read this week. The Church’s Hidden Back Door, by Thom Schultz.

 

This post references data from a study by Josh Packard, Ph.D., Exodus of the Religious Dones.

 

The topic is the unchurched—more specifically those who were once part of the happy Christian family.

 

I am one of the unchurched, although 2×2 is an active faith community. We just don’t fit in where we used to fit in for 120 years. We know why we are unchurched. We were locked out in 2006. Our property was deemed more valuable that our people. The synod that locked us out is still trying to shut down our ministry even though they declared us officially closed years ago. That thorn in their side.

 

Our experience validates all the reasons people feel disenfranchised from Church as listed by Schultz.

 

Schultz cites four.

 

“I feel judged.”

Not imaginary in our case. We were judged—by people who don’t know us and have no authority to do the judging.  The number of clergy gurus who confidently publish their judgments attest to this approach having widespread acceptance.

“I don’t want to be lectured.”

In the limited dialog we had with our regional body leaders, we weren’t exactly lectured. We were talked down to. But then most of the dialog went on behind our backs. This leads us to the Schultz’s next point.

“Christians are a bunch of hypocrites.”

The Bible forbids what happened to us on so many levels. But the learned clergy can’t see it for preaching.

 

And last . . .

“Your God is irrelevant to my life.”

I don’t think any of our 82 locked out members feel that God is irrelevant. We are a pretty faithful bunch. But the actions that were perpetrated upon us in the name of God are unrecognizable to us under any faith system.

 

Our most problematic finding. No one cared that we were there in the first place—and we are most definitely not welcome to come back.

Laity talk to laity.

But as I wrote, laity talk to laity. I’m hearing that our experiences, although among the most drastic and dramatic among many similar cases, are not alone.

 

Smart lay people go to church and aren’t part of a dialog about important issues. They are expected to listen to one person— usually the same person week after week—talk about issues that they deal with every day. Have a problem with what they say? You might be invited to express your views in private. Then again, you might not. Those in the pulpit don’t expect to be challenged.

 

Judgment is everywhere in the church. It’s in doctrine. It’s in how we welcome outsiders. It’s in who we ask to volunteer and serve.

 

Decades and centuries of preaching a gospel of inclusion and equality and laity are still treated as subjects.

 

There are biblical verses that cover these things. They are easily overlooked. Addressing them might create dialog!

 

And so, clergy seek answers among clergy.

 

Laity seek answers for a while. And then head for the door.

 

There are better things to do.

Learn from Business: Emphasize Retention

The key takeaway from Schultz’s post is something that businesses know and address daily.

 

Finding new members is far more difficult and costly than keeping old members.

 

Yet many a pastor or bishop heaves a sigh of relief when the those who might challenge them, on any level, disappear.

 

In this regard, the Church shoots itself in both feet. You see new members look to see how old members are treated. They are smart. History repeats.

 

My advice: Clergy, start talking to us, for the sake of the Church, please. And listen.

 

You’ve had decades to find answers within the chancel.

 

How’s that working for you?

Mession vs Mission

Katy Perry gets involved in a church dispute. Wow!

 

Maybe if we dyed our hair purple and sang better, we’d get national attention! The case is similar to our experience.

 

Who owns church land?

 

The concept of ownership in the Church is not often addressed until there is conflict.

 

Our case has shown the worst of this poorly defined hierarchical mess. The ideals of love, forgiveness and reconciliation flew out the door early on. Greed, pride, and power moved in. Gossip reigned. It was easy for others to look the other way. It was all so nasty.

 

But now there is a higher profile case involving a popular entertainer.

 

Nuns in California want to sell their land to a restaurateur for $15.5 million. The archdiocese claimed property rights. They want to sell the land to Katy Perry for $14.5 million.

 

Who owns the land?

 

Lutheran founding articles, constitutions and polity are clear. Congregations own their property. This was the crux of our feud with our equivalent of an archdiocese, the Southeastern Pennsylvania Synod.

 

Catholic polity is less clear. The bishop controls all the land, maybe. Clearly the nuns thought they owned their land until they wanted to sell it. Oh, and the Vatican can weigh in at any time.

 

The nuns’ legal representatives accused the archbishop of acting “as if he were above the rules and immune from the obligations of civil law.”

 

The court decision in our case will not help the nuns. There it was decided: The Church IS immune from the obligations of civil law. Our courts ruled they have no jurisdiction in intrachurch disputes. If the law were applied our congregation’s position had merit, they ruled. But the law does not apply.

 

Result: The Church can ignore its own rules. They would have a hard time getting away with what they are doing with anyone but their own members. The state of things should have every congregation questioning their relationship with their denominations. The lust for land is insatiable. Sooner or later, these decisions will affect everyone.

 

Small congregations are the most vulnerable. It isn’t that they can’t make it on their own or that their work has no value. Their failure enriches synod. Success won’t matter. The relationship is broken from the start. The prospect of land becoming available gives synods incentive to provide poor leadership options—caretaker pastors and interminable interims who report to the bishop. They are playing a waiting game. Congregations believe there is no hope. They aren’t imagining trusted leaders are looking for their own enrichment.

 

Congregations with members who can read their constitutions and determine that the actions of their leaders defy the authority given to them are walking the Jericho Road. They can expect to be robbed and beaten and left for dead. They can expect the priests and Levites to speed up as they pass by.

 

The behavior cited in the nuns’ case is all too familiar—refusals to meet, publicly bashing the decisions made by the sisters as if they are fools, moving ahead as if they do not exist. In short, arrogance.

 

At stake in the California feud is the future of the aging nuns. At stake in our case was the future of our entire faith community. Somehow these issues get buried.

 

If I had not been sued personally in our case (not to give the archbishop any ideas) I never would have started reading church constitutions.

 

But I was sued, so I started looking to see when and how the polity taught in confirmation class had strayed. The answer—bit by bit. A tweak to a bylaw here, another tweak there.

 

Here is what I learned.

 

Predecessor bodies of our denomination forbade synods from owning property.

 

The reason is now obvious.

 

Synods exist to serve congregations. Property ownership distracts from mission in their case. Land ownership for congregations means they have a presence and say in their community. Land ownership is best left to congregations.

 

Ownership changes mindset. That’s why synods should not be in the real estate business. It’s tough, it’s expensive, and it requires skills not taught in seminary. Property management becomes mission. It also is addictive. You have a little; you crave more.

 

While congregations struggle to support synods, synods look for sizable cash infusions to support their real estate enterprise. They need legal advice, property management advise, caretakers. Synod staff and budget will soon be out of hand. You’ll need a development office for fund-raising—competing with your supporting congregations’ offering plates. Since the constitutions don’t allow synods to take property, they have to start conniving. Congregations are not required to leave property to the synod if they close—unless they are mission churches. So the strategy will be to find a way to get congregations to accept mission status. Bribery is a good short-term investment. The congregation won’t realize that accepting a few thousand dollars, a gift that can be revoked at any time, lost them their property rights forever. If congregations don’t agree, the decision can be forced by using Involuntary Synodical Administration—a questionable contrivance that is a thief’s workaround. They’ll have to justify it somehow. They will recruit former pastors to support their case, violating the congregation’s trust—now and forever. Soon synods take land rights for granted and members will forget it was ever any other way. Fear guarantees it!

 

What a mess!

 

Mession not mission!

 

Maybe we need to return to the wisdom of earlier leaders. Maybe we should heed the advice of the Bible. Maybe synods and archdioceses should get out of the real estate business.

 

Property ownership by regional bodies is a clear temptation to abandon mission.

 

Congregations, don’t expect the courts to help you!

Church Membership: What Does It Mean?

I just read a blog post that reviewed the church affiliations of the Republican presidential candidates. It is no surprise that faith is important to all of them.

 

Let’s see. We have:

• A Hindu who converted to Catholicism.
• A Baptist PK (watch out for those PKs!).
• A  confessed Christmas/Easter Presbyterian.
• A Presbyterian converted to Catholicism.
• A Catholic.
• A “quiet” Catholic.
• An evangelical.
• An evangelical Catholic.
• A Southern Baptist.
• A Southern Baptist pastor turned politician.
• A Seventh Day Adventist.
• A Catholic turned Mormon turned evangelical.
• A disenfranchised Episcopalian.
• An Episcopalian turned Presbyterian.
• And another Baptist—at least his father was.

The list reveals the times. People change and the denominations no longer define their memberships. Adjectives are added to explain or excuse deviations from denominational stereotypes or departures from widely known doctrinal positions.

 

Church membership was once a sign that we were the embodiment of the vine and branches metaphor. The vine is still solid. The branches are getting a bit tangled.

 

Some denominations are more rigid about members and beliefs. Most are growing more flexible, criss-crossing where once they grew straight.

 

There were certain rules.

1. One denomination per person.

2. One congregation per person.

There was no real policing of these rules. The keepers of the “letters” were a trusted lot.

 

But the rules don’t always reflect the strength of a congregation accurately. Small churches often have as many “friends” working with them in mission as they do members. Any size church can have a majority of lapsed members still on the books! Hence a congregation with 1000 members might expect 150 on Sunday morning. Another congregation with 25 members might have 30 attending.

 

The rules belong to a simpler time—a less mobile time—a less inter-connected time. There was, after all, a time when the village had just one or two churches. The choices weren’t so complicated.

 

At the congregational level, the qualifications in our denomination require little commitment—one offering of record and one participation in communion per year. If a controversial vote is coming up, a lapsed member need only come to the service before the vote, take communion and deposit a check in the offering plate and their vote counts with all the others. I’ve seen voters rallied this way, so it’s not unheard of.

 

Keeping the communion record book was once the province of the church secretary. I wonder if anyone does this any more.

 

Only when church politics become contentious does anyone bother to qualify members. People who tithe, people who attend and put something in the plate regularly, have equal standing with the Easter/Christmas Christians.

 

Mixed marriages (aren’t they all?) call for compromise—the first test of the marriage commitment. Would one switch for the other? Would the couple find a middle ground denomination or go non-denominational.

What does church membership mean today?

Both giving and attendance are way, way down even among those who claim membership. This is likely to continue. Tithing is measured on first fruits. We all know that the government claims first fruits at three or four times a tithe and with steep penalties for noncompliance. This hurts charitable giving all around.

 

As for attendance, isn’t it odd that when people worked longer days, they made time for church on their only day off? Shorter weeks, shorter hours result in people whining about the need to sleep in.

 

The excuses are symptoms of lifestyle and value changes.

 

Our interconnected world values old-fashioned connectedness less. This applies not only to individuals but to denominations. All the ecumenical talk of the last few decades has resulted in little more than hierarchical maneuverings.

 

I am in an interesting position to ponder church membership. Our congregation was announced closed. Our members were cut off from the fellowship of believers. The rules don’t really allow for this, but the Church is notoriously poor at policing its own.

 

Our membership, our voting rights, our lifelong contributions and loyalty mean nothing. Our connectedness with others in the denomination mean the same—nothing.

 

What happened to 82 members set adrift? None that I know of joined a congregation of our denomination. A few went outside the denomination. Most remained unchurched. Among 160 congregations within our regional denomination, there were none who cared enough to speak up, to raise questions about the sense of mission, the effectiveness of church teaching, and the quality of leadership.

 

Membership must not be that important.

 

At sea, in the crossword puzzle sense, we discovered that denominations don’t mean much any more. Denominations limit dialogue, stifle the voice of the individual, and harden conscience.

 

Membership is cumbersome. The benefits of denominations uniting for more effective service are beginning to disappear.

 

A new sense of connectedness

All is not lost. We found new connections.

 

Here is what we learned. Each of these might become its own post!

• Community is larger and wider than we thought.
• Barriers of geography, language and culture are crumbling.
• Church membership need not be exclusive.
• There is less need for membership rules when no property is involved.
• There is more opportunity to connect outside denominations than inside.
• Government, community, and religion can partner.
• Good people are willing and often eager to help without membership.
• Doctrine is rarely discussed when people are busy working together.
• Leaders are just as confused about what is happening in the Church as members are.

That the modern Church is troubled is hardly news. Statistics have been plummeting for years.

 

Where will the Church find the answers it so desperately seeks?

 

We are looking for transformation, innovation. Yet the religious and clergy-written blogs I read could have been published 20 years ago. There are few new ideas. They use the same language—a bit harsher, perhaps. They offer the same advice—a bit more desperately, perhaps.

 

Often, the efforts of laity are dismissed, discouraged, or actively put down in the online clergy dialogs. You’d think we are the enemy.

 

It’s an oddity. The entire structure of Church relies on the strength of the laity, but successes are usually attributed to clergy. Strong lay leaders with obvious skills are a threat.

 

I, as the key contributor to 2x2virtualchurch, have felt this prejudice. My writings are sometimes labeled “antiestablishment.”

 

I am very much for the establishment of religion. However,  I recognize that the traditional methods of establishing and maintaining religion simply will not work as our society moves in directions the world has never known—especially if the Church does not move along with it.

 

With Lutheran roots, I feel within my rights to address Church topics. Luther taught equality in that regard. I believe that small churches are pivotal to the future of Christianity.  Some mainline denominations seem to view them as expendable. Their property and endowments makes this an attractive option. One little problem. You have to get rid of the people who own the property. Messy business. The root of all evil. . .

 

Jesus started small. He could have gone straight to the religious establishment of the day. He chose to concentrate on the laity—from the get go. Plan A!

 

We know modern challenges are daunting. Church leaders juggle difficult conditions.

 

Laity can help. But not if they are trampled over and locked out.

 

More books are bound to be published on the topic of Church Transformation. They are not likely to make much difference unless they begin to respect the skills and experience of the laity as leaders—not dutiful followers.

 

There is logic in this. Precedent, too!

 

Clergy are schooled in the traditions of their denominations. Frankly, they are vested in the system—theologically, traditionally,  professionally, and economically. Innovation is risky. Safer to keep doing the things that bring in the paychecks and keep people content if no less concerned.

 

Laity, on the other hand, have an entirely different view—many different views, in fact. Active laity are more interested in problem-solving. Who sits at the right hand of the bishop means little to us. We fund the church. We’re on the giving side of the economic equation.

 

As for precedent. Look to history. One of the biggest movements that shaped the Church—as our older members remember it—was conceived and executed by laity.

 

Study the history of the Sunday School.

The Sunday School is largely responsible for the strength of the Christian Church in America—even more so than the churches themselves.

 

The original concept, dating back to the mid to late 1700s in England, is attributed to a journalist, Robert Raikes of the Gloucester Journal. Today, he might have his own religious blog!

 

Raikes saw a need. Education and literacy belonged to the gentry. Raikes used the concept of Sunday School to teach children in the slums to read. Their lives revolved around their work. Sunday was the only day off. His innovation resulted in revamping the English school system. Raikes found support among the clergy of his day. Was he motivated by the pocketbook? Literacy is good for the newspaper business. But the passion that went into his ideas speaks otherwise. He centered his project around the Bible, not the newspaper.

 

His ideas were transplanted in American soil where clergy opposed the movement. They considered it a violation of the Sabbath. But perhaps they were feeling a little green. They were being asked to share the Sunday spotlight.

 

In 1817 in Medway, Massachusetts, when the minister and deacons were opposing the women’s idea of starting a Sunday school, one male leader complained, “These young folk are taking too much upon themselves.” Others said, “These women will be in the pulpit next.”

 

Sounds familiar!

 

Nevertheless, the Sunday School movement spread across the United States with the help of housewives, doctors, educators, industrialists, even an architect who designed the typical Sunday School Assembly area with classrooms surrounding a central gathering hall. .

 

Sunday Schools were lay organizations. Clergy had little or nothing to do with them.

 

Sunday Schools often operate separately from their sponsoring church. They take up their own offerings and have their own board of directors, usually entirely lay led. Under lay control, they take on social aspects as young people form sports leagues and older members plan picnics and festivals. These early networking techniques benefited the Church. Without the Sunday School movement, churches would likely have struggled going into the 20th century.

 

2×2 Foundation and our blog are part of this lay tradition. We offer our ideas on the state of the Church and are willing to experiment and innovate.

 

There is a big difference between the 19th century and the 21st century.

 

In the 1800s the movers and shakers of society were involved in church from an early age and as they established themselves in their careers. Their families were likely to have come to America for religious reasons. Their colleges and universities were likely to have strong religious roots.

 

Today’s younger generations are largely finding other places to serve. All indications are that they are no less spiritual. Church just isn’t making sense to them. They are no longer mostly slum children craving education and a way out of misery. They are the best-educated generation in history and many have been blessed with commonplace comfort of the middle class, which would have seemed like luxury to most people in pre-World War II America.

 

Congregations that want to survive will find ways to connect to today’s younger generations now, before it is too late. And let’s be clear. By younger generations, I mean all of those under 50. That’s a huge population! Most church-goers today are over 50!

 

Denominations that want to survive will stop viewing lay talent as competition. They will stop seeing disrespect in every new proposal.

 

Christ empowered the laity. He sent us out two by two (2×2).

 

Laity can make a difference. Give us a chance.

 

The Church’s Rosa Parks (one of many)

I read lots of blogs about church life. Lately, I’ve responded to several written by church leaders who try to label or categorize congregations by assigning not-so-kind labels as if that might be helpful. Other church leaders chat in forums about their feelings of betrayal. There are few details. Other interpretations are never presented.

 

Although many of the writers are learned church people and no doubt well-intended, there seems to be a common denominator. They don’t understand laity. Sometimes they don’t seem to like us much less love us. There is a sense of entitlement. Laity are to be followers. Any sign that followers will not follow, for whatever reason, is a betrayal.

 

This is a root of many church problems and conflict. Perhaps we should ask questions. Why do lay people choose the role of follower in the first place? Why do lay members become disgruntled? How do we express discontent when clergy control all forums?

 

I wrestle with these issues personally, having been effectively excommunicated from our family’s multi-generational affiliation with the Lutheran Church. The first step when our congregation dared to challenge a leadership decision, following the rules of the church, was to make sure we had no voice—anywhere.

 

Churches don’t quite understand the web yet.

 

I am surprised and deeply touched by this post in the National Catholic Reporter. It shared the lay point of view!

 

It reveals with compassion and humility that decisions made by clergy 50 years ago might have been tragically wrong. A loyal lay person, who felt church rules were not in her family’s best interest, was pointing the way. She kept her decisions quiet. She had no desire to cause trouble. She was no revolt leader. Her decision was personal. She sat still in the pew, the Church’s Rosa Parks. Labelled as unworthy, she remained loyal.

 

She kept her hurt private. Had she been public about her views, she would have drawn attention. She wasn’t intent on reform. She was a mother. She just wanted what was best for her and her family and to do what felt right.

 

Read it. It might bring tears to your eyes. It might help you see the role of church leadership through the tears.

 

Pioneer Mom Chooses Love Over Church