The church, we are told, is shrinking. Statistics suggest that overall American church membership is declining, sometimes drastically. In most of our congregations, we see the decline. There are fewer people in the pews and fewer people participating.
In most congregations, this becomes painfully obvious once a year when leaders begin to prepare the next year's budget and nominate the next year's officers. Financial support of the church lags behind the expenses of the church, creating pressure to cut programs, cut outreach giving, or even cut staff time or positions. There never seem to be many new options for officer position, forcing people to keep serving again and again... and again, and sometimes requiring people to serve in multiple capacities to keep programs going.
In the season of planning, it is easy to lament that our church is too small. If we just had a few more people and more reliable financial giving, things would be easier and better. Even more, we wouldn't dread the near-future of our congregation. Too often, we fear that this decline is going to quickly force us to make terrible choices, including cutting the minister's salary -- and thus time. Eventually, the congregation may have to close.
It's that time of year in my congregation. So maybe that is why a few words in the obituary of retired Trinity Lutheran Seminary president Fred W. Meuser in the August 15, 2018 Christian Century caught my eye. 20 years ago, Rev. Meuser offered this wisdom to an ELCA assembly:
These words are a passionate, faithful, and much needed antidote to the powerful fear present in many congregations. Too often we act as if the visible church is just what we see in our individual congregation or denomination. But the body of Christ is so much bigger than that, stretching across space and time, filled with more people than we can fathom.
And, as leaders, too often we worry about how our actions are affecting the church. We take declining participation personally, convinced that we are failing in our leadership. And while we should take our leadership responsibilities seriously, following best practices and transparency, we should not imagine that the church succeeds or fails because of us.
When we forget these things, we eventually find evidence that our beloved church is dying. We cannot do all of the things that we imagine we should do; these days, we probably cannot do all of the things that we used to do. The money is too tight and the laborers too few. And no matter what we try, we cannot seem to turn it around. And how quickly we then become scared and simply try to make it last as long as possible.
The church of Jesus Christ is not dying. It isn't tiny. It does not lack for leaders or for time, energy, or money. It is massive and transforming. It offers a vision of life separate from the conventional wisdom of this time and place, made incarnate by the one who has overcome the world and promised live abundant. And it is led by that person, who laid the cornerstone of the church, who welcomes each new part through the waters of baptism, and who sustains the church through the sacrament of communion.
In this context, our fears seem misplaced and misguided. How easy it is for all of us, myself included, to believe those fears, though. The way beyond those fears is to recognize that our (vision/experience/understanding of) church is too small, but that Christ's church is much bigger and full of life.
In most congregations, this becomes painfully obvious once a year when leaders begin to prepare the next year's budget and nominate the next year's officers. Financial support of the church lags behind the expenses of the church, creating pressure to cut programs, cut outreach giving, or even cut staff time or positions. There never seem to be many new options for officer position, forcing people to keep serving again and again... and again, and sometimes requiring people to serve in multiple capacities to keep programs going.
In the season of planning, it is easy to lament that our church is too small. If we just had a few more people and more reliable financial giving, things would be easier and better. Even more, we wouldn't dread the near-future of our congregation. Too often, we fear that this decline is going to quickly force us to make terrible choices, including cutting the minister's salary -- and thus time. Eventually, the congregation may have to close.
It's that time of year in my congregation. So maybe that is why a few words in the obituary of retired Trinity Lutheran Seminary president Fred W. Meuser in the August 15, 2018 Christian Century caught my eye. 20 years ago, Rev. Meuser offered this wisdom to an ELCA assembly:
God's church is not a little fearful remnant hiding from the big bad world, always bemoaning how bad things are, hanging on by their fingernails. Oh, no! That church is a great company, from every land from times past and present and yet to come, with the mind of Christ in them and a Lord out in front of them who says, 'Follow me! I have overcome the world! I will build my church!'Amen, amen, amen! 100 times, amen!
These words are a passionate, faithful, and much needed antidote to the powerful fear present in many congregations. Too often we act as if the visible church is just what we see in our individual congregation or denomination. But the body of Christ is so much bigger than that, stretching across space and time, filled with more people than we can fathom.
And, as leaders, too often we worry about how our actions are affecting the church. We take declining participation personally, convinced that we are failing in our leadership. And while we should take our leadership responsibilities seriously, following best practices and transparency, we should not imagine that the church succeeds or fails because of us.
When we forget these things, we eventually find evidence that our beloved church is dying. We cannot do all of the things that we imagine we should do; these days, we probably cannot do all of the things that we used to do. The money is too tight and the laborers too few. And no matter what we try, we cannot seem to turn it around. And how quickly we then become scared and simply try to make it last as long as possible.
The church of Jesus Christ is not dying. It isn't tiny. It does not lack for leaders or for time, energy, or money. It is massive and transforming. It offers a vision of life separate from the conventional wisdom of this time and place, made incarnate by the one who has overcome the world and promised live abundant. And it is led by that person, who laid the cornerstone of the church, who welcomes each new part through the waters of baptism, and who sustains the church through the sacrament of communion.
In this context, our fears seem misplaced and misguided. How easy it is for all of us, myself included, to believe those fears, though. The way beyond those fears is to recognize that our (vision/experience/understanding of) church is too small, but that Christ's church is much bigger and full of life.
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