Transforming Church

I recently spoke with an ELCA Bishop from a synod in a mostly rural area of the northeast. He was bemoaning the fact that within a decade, few of the churches in his Synod would be able to afford a pastor. The picture of a declining economy, young people moving away, no bright future on the horizon is all too familiar, particularly in the rust belt. Then I asked him what the unchurched population was in the area he was describing. 50% was his response. Now, that got me wondering. I asked the Bishop, “If 50% of the population is unchurched, isn’t there still great potential for reaching people, even in such a place?” He responded, “The problem is, these unchurched people know about these churches.” Nothing more was said, but the implication was powerful. If people know about our churches, and that’s enough to keep them away, it creates a picture of churches that seem far from friendly.

Pleasant Surprises
Genie and I visited game parks in Kenya and Tanzania in June. Our last stop was a tented camp on a river in the Masai Mara. This was a nice place, with a four-poster bed and a bathroom in the tent, far from roughing it. Because of the elevation, it was quite cool at night. The first night, when we returned to our tent, it was in the 40’s, and felt quite chilly. Although it wasn’t late, we quickly climbed into bed to escape the cold. When we got into bed, we discovered the valet had left us a big hot water bottle. What an incredibly pleasant surprise. That hot water bottle stayed warm all night. This fact alone cemented a wonderful impression of the place; they exceeded our expectations. When people visit your church, what goes on that might create a pleasant surprise?

The Magnetic Attraction of a Campfire
The camp also had a campfire circle, and they stoked a big fire every evening, right outside the bar, overlooking the river. Everyone was drawn to the warmth of the crackling fire. We sat together around the fire, warming and protecting from the dangers of the night-lions, hyenas, hippos making noises just beyond the electric fence. Have you ever noticed how magnetic campfires are? I have loved camping since my teenage years. I could never get enough of sitting around a campfire. Staring into the embers, sharing tales with fellow campers, it does not get any better than that. The easy camaraderie, the firelight and its warmth keeping away the scary night and the creatures that frequent the shadows.

These two images, the hot water bottle and the campfire, got me thinking about the plight of the great majority of mainline churches that are on plateau or in decline. I thought about how wonderful it would be if our churches provided that pleasant surprise to those who visit. What if the experience of that first visit exceeds expectations. What if our communities could feel the warmth emanating from our fellowship, like a campfire? What if they were drawn to the warmth and light of our fellowship, warding off the dark night and the demons that bedevil them?

True Christian Community is Magnetic
In the early centuries, the church was indeed a haven from the dark world. Those who entered into the fellowship gained much to help them survive in cruel times. Rodney Stark, in his book The Rise of Christianity, describes the situation in the first two centuries of the Christian church. He explains that two epidemics came through the Roman Empire during this time, each killing a third of the population. These were times when no one knew how disease spread, and there was no organized health care. Those who got sick were put out so as not to cause others to fall ill. People died for the want of simple nursing care, from dehydration and hunger. Those in the Christian community behaved in stark contrast. Letters written during those times told of how Christian brothers and sisters took in the ill and nursed them, sometimes becoming ill and dying in place of their friends. The benefit of being a part of the Christian community was compelling.

We’d like to think that our churches today are such a place. If they are, why is it so hard to attract the unchurched into our fellowship? And why don’t visitors stay? The reality in many places is we care for those already there, but don’t know what to do with others who come to visit. The average age of Lutherans in America is 58, and the average age of our communities is much younger. Visitors bring different expectations, different lifestyles, different ways of experiencing God, and often feel like outsiders.

Can we look beyond ourselves?
I spent the first two decades after I was baptized in my 20’s wondering what was wrong with me that I did not appreciate the classical organ music and liturgical setting of the Lutheran church. Now, with the emerging postmodern worldview, the chasm between the mindset and paradigms of the unchurched and your average Lutheran is only growing. It is only when we reach the point in our faith journey that we realize that it’s not about me that we grow enough concern for the unchurched to try to find ways to make them feel at home.

I suppose that’s why I am so convinced that the first step of transformation is to move the existing community from membership to discipleship. Once we begin that journey, we learn to put our focus on serving God by serving others both in and beyond our own church. Then, maybe we will figure out what it takes to create a warm, inviting environment that draws those who are hurting and wounded into our midst for the love and care that spring forth from an authentic Christian community.