So let me get this straight. Bishop Rinehart says we should ignore the desires and needs of those who show up every Sunday, teach the Sunday school classes, devote their time to the choir, work in the outreach programs, give of their hard-earned money to keep the doors open and the heat on---in favor of trying to meet the unknown needs of people who haven't yet shown any interest in, or commitment to, the church.

Do that for very long and all of your insiders will be on the outside. I guess that gives you a chance to win them back with your "outsider-focused" approach--but I suspect it won't work very well.

I have a better idea for those of us on the "inside." Let's challenge ourselves to live the faith we proclaim on Sunday the rest of the week. I don't believe people are staying away from churches because they don't like the music. They are staying away because they don't believe in what we are "selling." They look at us and think "Christians lie, cheat, steal, and kill just like everyone else. Their faith hasn't made them better than anyone else." And they are right.

Until people can see the "fruits of the spirit" in the folks who claim to be Christian, they are going to stay home on Sunday in ever larger numbers. And I can't blame them....

I like William Temple's idea that we are an organization dedicated to those who haven't joined yet, but I think Bp Rinehart misses the point. Without a valued and valuable center there's attraction.

I think the more we continue to remove the ways in which we define membership, rather than expressing how easy it is to join us, we just express that membership has no meaning, hence why bother to join. Bp Rinehart seems to suggest there is nothing inherently valuable in what we have received, and I just don't believe its true.

Our biggest issue isn't that what we do is unattractive or unappealing, its that no one believes we ourselves take it seriously.

Jon White

I guess if you believe that you have a problem, then you have a problem. If you have the solution, then do you have a problem?

I'm, also, not so sure that churches were/are set up to preserve what exists. I am of the opinion that they are set up to do just the opposite, to change the world and to allow the Holy Spirit to help change ourselves.

I think the bishop has a point as far as churches' tendency to cater to the tastes of the people who are already in the building, and an unwillingness to take risks to reach out to people who would like a different kind of experience in worship or fellowship.

I've run across the notion that Episcopalians don't believe what they believe hard enough a couple of times on the last few days in Cafe comments. Can I point out that almost no American Catholic follows the Vatican line on birth control, and significant majorities ignore what it teaches on LGBT issues, divorce or women's ordination. Yet folks sometimes point in that direction and say "That is a theologically serious church."

Bishop Rhinehart certainly strikes a chord here. How quickly keepers of the status quo jump up to defend themselves! I am dumbfounded that followers of a religion that purports to emulate a God/man who said the greatest love was to lay down one's life for one's friends are insulted by the idea of a little humility and self-sacrifice in the service of one's brethren and their needs. Would that the Church could indeed model and live the precepts of the early church and follow the example of say, St. Ambrose, whose feast day is today, and who gave away his own fortune and his brother's fortune in service of those undesirable outsiders who so rock the traditonal boat. Why he and many others like him even did without food to serve the poor -- I imagine the selection of hymns and the focus of much that occupies today's dying churches would hardly register with him . May God grant us a spirit of humility and remind us that the first shall be last and the lowly outsider lifted up in the end of things.

I think this approach underestimates newcomers and misrepresents the sacramental rites. Not to mention drawing too strong a line between newcomers and members.

Newcomers generally expect that their first experience in a church will involve some things that are new to them and that will require a bit of learning, whether through repeated experience or through asking questions and getting answers. A question from a newcomer does not indicate a failure on the part of the church.

Imagine our Eastern Orthodox friends considering this question. They tend not to wring their hands over this but simply do what they do, welcoming newcomers into the process of learning what it all means. I respect that approach and think we'd best emulate it.

Scott Knitter

Four things: first of all, as Paige says, without the membership, there is nothing. Maintaining the Body you have is crucial as a base for its expansion; it takes people to be ministers, or else the angels would be doing the work for us.

Second: the assumption that our music and liturgical ways are off-putting is questionable. Or rather, it's too easy. Clerics who don't want to have to deal with more personally threatening problems (such as their preaching or their theology) can dodge considering those, and in the process get points for being challenging. But I doubt that our music or the formality of our liturgy is off-putting.

Third: At least we have some hope of understanding how to please the people you know, but for the rest, we are just guessing. The notion that we can successfully chase after the changing taste of the world is questionable, and never mind whether we can avoid compromising ourselves in the process.

Finally: anamnesis. It is in fact part of our job TO preserve what exists, at least in terms of passing the timeless gospel message on. And that is after all the first purpose of evangelizing. Our job is conversion, not merely inclusion. We're here to change the world, not merely survive in it.

I think it is more nuanced than this. Note a reflection from Bishop Benhase not too long ago:

http://www.faithandleadership.com/blog/11-30-2011/scott-benhase-teaching-dissatisfaction

Matthew Moretz+

I think the bishop has a valid point. I also think that many on this board are too quick to rally around the status quo. I hear the bishop saying, we in the church, must be looking outward and not inward. Everything we do must be shaped by are very reason for being, which is mission--connecting God with people and people with people. It's about going outside the four walls of our churches and creating relationships, one by one. So, how are the structures of our churches accomplishing that, or are they?

I have always thought that what turns people off or on is not the traditionalness or untraditionalness of liturgy, or music, or whatever -- but whether the liturgy and music and preaching and fellowship are well done or poorly done.

"Take hymns, for example."

Oh, let's not (and say we did).

This is an important conversation: "How do we as a church exist for those not members of it?"

It's way too important to be side-tracked w/ the bog-standard "Let's upset the old-timers!" conversation (conflagration!) re hymns, for heaven's sake. :-X

JC Fisher

I am not sure that tradition is what is at issue here. There are churches all over the country in which services and fellowship opportunities are not congruent with the neighborhoods they purportedly serve. An all white church in an increasingly Latino neighborhood that doesn't make some attempt to get to know these new neighbors and integrate them into the life of the church is simply failing at hospitality. In DC we have a number of historically black churches that are in neighborhoods where few African Americans now live. By clinging to their glory days, they jeopardize their futures. All institutions have to learn to adapt to a changing world--says the guy who thought he would be writing 3,000 word newspaper feature stories for the rest of his career.

I agree with C Wingate that one can attempt to attract new members in a way that compromises one's own authenticity. That is a real danger. But to me that only means that we have to work harder to understand what the people already inside the building have in common with those outside the building.

At the Episcopal Youth Event this summer, Rodger Nishioka from Columbia Theological Seminary related a story from his teen years where a leader of the Presbyterian Church stated that "the church of Jesus Christ does not lack people who seek power, the church of Jesus Christ lacks servants." Seems like if our churches' agendas centered on serving God, much of these concerns would disappear and the results would be beyond our wildest expectations.

I think Jim Naughton has made an interesting point above, about the RCC being "a theologically serious church."

The RCC explains itself. It goes into deep detail about what its faith is all about, and attempts to speak to the reasonable person in a reasonable and clear way. The RCC Catechism, in fact, starts out by stating flatly that "By natural reason man can know God with certainty, on the basis of his works." (Yes, yes, I know: there's the pronoun problem. I'm fine with fixing that.)

And in comparison to that - yes, we are a closed system. We are not offering to explain ourselves and our faith to people who don't already share it. We seem to depend on having a steady supply of people who already believe approximately what we do.

But I don't think we can depend on that any longer; it's a new time. We need to be able to communicate with people about the content of the faith - in a way that makes sense to them, and in a way that helps them to connect with the holy, to make sense of the world, and to live. (Of course, that goes for all people, both "insiders" and "outsiders.")

I don't see what other purpose we really have.

That is because we do not propose a doctrine or dogma but instead offer worship of God - praise, thanksgiving, repentance, etc. We believe praying shapes believing not the other way around. Jenifer Gamber's book "My Faith My Life" is one of the best for telling people about us. Though written with teens I find new members think it is very helpful to understand the way Episcopalians do faith.

Perhaps what is most remarkable about what Mike Rinehart has said is that it is so old and tiresome. This is precisely what was guiding the Lutheran Church (ECLA) when I was a member more than 20 years ago, and it continues to boil and brew in most of the mainline Protestant churches in the U.S. It is part and parcel of my local bishop's stump speech and the guiding principles of all the "insiders" in my diocese and many others.

As tiresome and predictable as these words are, they remain astonishing in several respects. First, they demonstrate so well that the "progressive" side of these churches is as absurdly obsessed about changing liturgies, hymns, and furniture as the conservatives are about resisting changing how churches respond to the varieties of sexual expression and relationships found among humans everywhere.

Second, similar to the obsessions of the conservatives, the more that time, knowledge, and experience demonstrates both the fallacies of these ideas and the human costs in attempts to implement them, the more their adherents wrap themselves up in their unyielding conviction of the rightness of their cause.

Third, what continues to astonish me is that few seem to grasp the depths of the schizophrenia that permeates much of the "progressive" worldview. While advocating "inclusion," equality among all peoples, lay ministry, listening processes, and democratic structures, it insists on sharp divisions between those "inside" and those "outside", of all things, the walls of church buildings. These divisions must be enforced and pronounced by those on high, those with ecclesiastical power and authority, regardless of the desires or needs of those below. Higher-ups proclaim: "Church" is NOT for the people "inside";it is ONLY for those "outside." Therefore, the more pain, suffering, humiliation, and guilt one can inflict on those "inside," all in the name of the unknown "outside," the better. This is lunacy, pure and simple. No wonder "outsiders" have no interest in stepping "inside."

Fourth, of course the great irony is that this progressive mantra of outsiders only (coupled with "change, change, change! at all costs") is the mirror image of the way conservatives read John 3:16 as pronouncing that Jesus, as God, Lord, and Savior, is the exclusive Truth and the only means to salvation. For both, it matters not so much whether what we understand Jesus to be shines forth in our hearts and lives and our dealings with others but rather whether we do so under the banner of his name and bring others into his earthly house (The Church). For all the weeping and moaning about the cost and wisdom of maintaining buildings, governing structures, and hierarchy, and the casting off of all communal bonds and traditions as evidence of exclusive social clubbiness, rather than shared faith and pieties, progressives are still bound up in literal ways of thinking and doing "church" in terms of "inside" and "outside." Those on the "inside" are privileged because they have heard of Jesus and gather under his name whereas those on the "outside" have not or choose not, and such privilege makes "insiders" invariably different from "outsiders" and invariably the ones that the priests must sacrifice on the altar for the good of those on the outside.

Call me a heretic, if you will, all those on both left and right, but I take this all as nonsense, never mind its resemblance to the traditional ways in which Christians have long imagined the Gospel message and the imperatives of the Great Commission. People are people, inside and outside, those schooled in Christian thought and creeds and those who are not. ALL need compassion, Godly love, and respect, and ALL need to share that equally with others -- inside and out.

Yet church leaders, bishops among them, dare to pick and choose among people "inside" based on personal preferences regarding the form and style of worship and music in various kinds of gatherings. Those who have some kinds of preferences are to be ostracized, shunned, and humiliated, as being selfish, childish, unyielding defenders and maintainers of the status quo. Those with other kinds of preferences (and often delusions about the efficacy of forcing those preferences on other insiders in the obsessive and elusive dream of bringing in legions of outsiders), are to be exalted and heralded as those who will, if only deferred to, save Christendom for generations to come.

Personally, I am ready to say the last rites over Christendom. It sickens and revolts me, as it does all the "outsiders" I know and meet. I would like to see church leaders stop leading, strategic planning, paying consultants, and worrying about whether "church" as we know it is going down as the Titanic, will carry a few on as an ark, or whether we are all going have to learn to sink or swim in the same waters. Let God take care of the future. Meanwhile, why cannot we simply minister to one another, whoever is before us in need, without regard to whether they are churched or unchurched? Why can't we listen carefully to and witness the lives of those whose faithful presence and gifts have sustained our local churches for many years, treat them with respect and compassion, just as we would those who have been and continue to be absent? Why can't we look deep into our faith communities and cherish and nurture the best in them and share however we can rather than continually try to reinvent evangelism as a concept, a program, and an agenda, rather than seeking and embracing a calling and bringing together that proceeds from the Holy Spirit, the wind and flames of Pentecost?

AMEN Kathryn. You have spoken to what is disturbed in my heart.

Personally, I am ready to say the last rites over Christendom. It sickens and revolts me, as it does all the "outsiders" I know and meet. I would like to see church leaders stop leading, strategic planning, paying consultants, and worrying about whether "church" as we know it is going down as the Titanic, will carry a few on as an ark, or whether we are all going have to learn to sink or swim in the same waters. Let God take care of the future. Meanwhile, why cannot we simply minister to one another, whoever is before us in need, without regard to whether they are churched or unchurched?

I echo the AMEN.

When we start acting like we love God and our neighbors, people might come. Until then, curling up in the bed on Sunday morning with the NY Times begins to look better and better...

I actually don't think that simply walking the talk is sufficient. The Quakers strike me as people who walk their talk. I think I would like to have a few more members that the Society of Friends. I think institutions are necessary to carry values forward, so I have some interest in preserving what is good about the institution we call the Episcopal Church.

"That is because we do not propose a doctrine or dogma but instead offer worship of God - praise, thanksgiving, repentance, etc. We believe praying shapes believing not the other way around. Jenifer Gamber's book "My Faith My Life" is one of the best for telling people about us. Though written with teens I find new members think it is very helpful to understand the way Episcopalians do faith."

I think the discussion here is an acknowledgement that this particular idea of "the way Episcopalians do faith" is no longer working for us; that's the very point I'm speaking to here.

We do, BTW, have doctrine; the Creeds. However, if they are only to be "experienced" and never actually explained or tested by applying them to real life - well, I just don't think that's going to get us anywhere in post-Christendom.

Unless, of course, we really are interested only in people coming from other churches - or only in people who are "experiential" learners. I think we could a lot more and better, personally....

When we start acting like we love God and our neighbors, people might come.

How are we supposed to do that? This is a real question, BTW. How can human beings - always basically self-obsessed - start actually liking other people, never mind loving them? How can people "love God," if we don't have, often enough, the vaguest idea of what God is all about?

Where do these things come from? How does it work? What's involved?

These are all real questions, too, BTW. I'm asking: how do human beings come to be able to do something that's not at all natural to us? More to the point: is it even possible, without some sort of interior re-alignment?

I don't think so, personally....

I think the bishop's article was a bit more nuanced than the quotes listed above. I really don't think he was talking primarily about hymns or liturgical style. He was talking about willingness to take risks for the sake of the gospel. Here's a quote from the article: "People in power, who have privileges in the current system, will resist change and make life really hard for any leader who seeks to be a change agent. Pastors are paid from members’ giving, so there is a potential conflict of interest. If they do the right thing, some leaders will end up losing their job (or up on a cross, to reference an often-told story)."

This is demonstrably true - there are forces in every congregation that will react against change. Let me give two examples from my own experience:

(1) We made a decision 3 years ago to move from one Sunday morning service (which had about 105 in ASA) to two services. There was great consternation because people wouldn't see their friends any more; we wouldn't all know each other; there would be two small services instead of one large one; etc. We gently worked at it until we had a consensus to move forward despite determined opposition, because we were convinced that failing to make this move would mean we would not grow any more. There was no more room for "outsiders." Since making the change, we have expanded to about 170 in ASA, and may need to add a third service soon. The folks who were concerned before have adapted happily.

(2) The "new" service uses Enriching our Worship and music from Wonder, Love & Praise and LEVAS II, plus some gospel choir once a month, in addition to some music from the 1982 Hymnal. In other words, it's an approved Episcopal service that you can't even really call "contemporary." Maybe you might call it "slightly more accessible to the outsider." Nevertheless, a couple from the traditional service left the church because they felt that using these resources was inappropriate for an Episcopal church. Their change resistance was so strong that they couldn't abide having a service they didn't attend use resources they weren't familiar with. In a situation like this, I think you just have to wish them well and direct them toward a church that might suit their needs better.

In other words, whenever you take a risk there will be some fallout. But I think as a church we are called to take some risks for the sake of reaching those outside the church. Here's where I agree with some other commenters: you can't just orient your whole church around "seekers." If they come and don't find any "there" there, they won't come back. There needs to be true Christian growth, inspiration, and discipleship happening inside the church, or there's not much reason for anyone to be there. This is not a matter of hymn choices - this is a matter of education, prayer, fellowship, and outreach. If we are a church that follows Jesus, then we should be doing these things, and doing them well.

If the institution of the Episcopal Church crumbles (assuming that "if" is the operative word), I will be the first to mourn its demise. The problem I have is with the spiritual violence said and done in the name of its "preservation."

Some time ago I believe it was Sarah Dylan Breuer who said that Jesus calls us to be disciples, not build congregations. I believe the same is true for the "institution" - at all levels. The larger institution, including the walls that house the gatherings of communities of faith are, at best, means to an end. It provides a place for gathering those who find meaning, purpose, and inspiration in their commitment to and understanding of what God brought to the world in the person of Jesus Christ, his life, death, and resurrection, and the clouds of saints that have followed, not by adherence to dogma or by strategic planning, but by letting his light shine forth in whatever dark places, within and without human hearts, lurk on the face of the earth and beyond.

Anxiety and fear have gripped many of those who have tried to follow, from the very beginning. Unfortunately, in current times, that anxiety and fear tends to be directed at those "inside" the church. It may be that nothing we can do will prevent the church as we know it from disappearing, just as the early Christian churches that St. Paul wrote and ministered to did. The changes in culture, communications, technology, and communal relations may have made church as we have known it impossible to sustain much longer. But whether it should or may be preserved, reformed, or recreated in some fashion, we cannot do anything but hasten its demise by the ways in which many of our leaders are directing us to turn on each other and to waste so much time and energy trying to plan and design "church" for the future, rather than live and learn, share and comfort one another (meaning all others) as disciples.

Some claim we can and should do both. It seems, however, that the overwhelming evidence is that the Episcopal Church (among others), fails miserably whenever and wherever it tries to do both, often forsaking those who have been most fervent and faithful in trying to lead Christian lives and supporting their local faith communities. We are a church of too many chiefs or chefs (pick your metaphor) and too few willing to look, learn, and listen to what people do and have to say about living their faith from day to day, within and without the church walls. What is needed is less direction, less time spent at the drawing board, and more time working together to discover and nurture the best of what there is, here and now, within and without existing faith communities, and do so without observing boundaries between "them" and "us", "outside" and "inside," obstacles to "progress" and conveyers of "progress," lay and clergy, young and old.

We need to occupy the pews, the choir stalls, the nave, and yes, maybe even the altar, and tell the corporate church to take its consultants, surveys, committee reports, and strategic planning, and bury them, and join our hands and hearts together instead and focus on the babe in the manger, the shepherds, the innkeeper, the angels, and brilliant star, all on a cold, winter night, gathered within a humble structure, which afforded little shelter and then for only a brief time.

Someone already beat me to it, but let me add emphasis. "We believe praying shapes believing not the other way around." It isn't working, nor do I see why it should. Yes, prayer is exceptionally important, and the ordained must do a better job of helping the laity to pray, using the prayer book and without the prayer book. But, the ordained should also ensure that those they serve are able to articulate why and what they believe. So, yes, doctrine does have a place in the Episcopal Church. Sermons must do more than explain the readings for the day. They must address reality and challenge those in the congregation to lead transformed lives. And yes, I believe we still need the Episcopal Church. But, it must feed us and equip us to go out into the world to connect God with people and people with people. It must help us to expand God's kingdom by expanding the church into the community by creating relationships.

I guess I thought you would understand that I meant more than folding your hands and talking to God - sorry for not being more clear. I meant something more - a lived faith shaped by worship. Yes there are some bottom line things for Christians (incarnation, resurrection) but we don't tell you the exact form that takes. Also I think all my sermons take the message of the Gospel and talk about how to live it in community. So not sure who is not doing that. But then I work with people in EfM (Education for Ministry) which is all about how we live what we believe so probably have a different view.

While I applaud the desire and interest in outreach and inclusion of potential members, I do not agree with the suggestions or conclusions Rinehart reaches.

I think that his quote of Drucker in the second excerpt profoundly misses the point. Churches have always changed at a slower rate than the society around them. They are keepers of tradition and havens of security when people need a moment to calm down. At times this does mean the church presents an "old fasioned" and "out of touch" air when it has lagged behind a visible change in society, but at other times it means the church is a seed from which traditional ideas cast aside too swiftly can be nurtured and restored to a society that had left them behind.

As to his central point, I would say that it is our duty as Christians to be welcoming, supportive, and inclusive of those who are outside, not seeking to shame them or belittle them as they learn our ways, but if we embrace the idea that we should do as those outside do, in time we will reach a point in which we have lost ourselves and are no different than anything else, people do not go seeking to join organizations that are exactly like what they already have.

Invite your friends and neighbors to church, approach visitors warmly and listen with honest interest to their questions. Answer what you can, refer other questions to those who can help, and do be open to honest critique. But do not seek to deny the beauty that is present in tradition in a vain hope of appealing to a social circle you look to with envy. As the Bard said, To thine own self be true.

It's about building a community, that community we call the Body of Christ. Every decision should be made with that in mind. To favor one group over another in any way undermines that essential task.

But the suggestion did get an interesting conversation going.

Thanks for commenting 11oclockscholar - but please sign your name next time. ~ed.

Everything?

R.Hopper -- if you wonder why you comments don't always get published - it is because we request full names. Thanks. ~ed.

Here's my very late thought:

The work of the church needs to hold all people in mind, be they members or not, believers or not.

The worship of the church needs to be for the glory of God as is best understood by those actually participating in the worship services.

"People in power, who have privileges in the current system, will resist change and make life really hard for any leader who seeks to be a change agent. Pastors are paid from members’ giving, so there is a potential conflict of interest. If they do the right thing, some leaders will end up losing their job (or up on a cross, to reference an often-told story)."

Susan, I appreciate hearing of your experience and pointing out this passage. I, too, have experienced this side of it, directly and indirectly, as a clergy spouse. I know what it's like to see someone I know and love devote his life to the church and its people, and often face intractable obstacles, in people, some of whom suffer personality disorders, others whose narrow-mindedness and self-interest, fueled by self-righteous passion, can wreak havoc in a religious community, and by the practical constraints and concerns resulting from declining revenues, attendance, and membership, and expensive and decaying buildings designed more for the glory of their original patrons than for the glory of God or the needs of future generations.

I also have known and heard of many clergy who have been emotionally and spiritually bruised and battered by conflict with and among various personalities and factions in their parishes. Some clergy find themselves losing battles they never sought, ending up jobless, homeless, feeling defeated and confused, and having to deal with the fall-out of it all hitting their families and friends. Some move on to other positions, some voluntarily or involuntarily give up ordained ministry altogether.

Needless to say, this is unfortunate. In many ways it is nothing new (see, for example, Harold Frederic's novel, The Damnation of Theron Ware, about a 19th c. Methodist minister, and other histories of the "burned over district" of western and central New York, left ravaged by a series of "revivals"). But are all these tragic outcomes inevitable? Does the larger church have some responsibility for changing the church culture so clergy are not put into conflict unnecessarily over matters that arguably involve little more than changing the proverbial deck chairs on the Titanic?

What strikes me as particularly dangerous and harmful in the current climate is the unthinking idolatry of change and risk-taking, with little or no attention paid to the perspective of the laity, and even less to what psychology, neuroscience, and recent sociological studies and writings about religion might have to say about these situations and what kinds of religious practices binds communities and nurtures individual spiritual lives.

Church leaders have long been lost in rigid notions fostered by Arlin Rothauge's seminal work, Sizing Up A Congregation for New Member Ministry (1984). What began as a descriptive modeling of different sized congregations in late 20th c. U.S. Protestant churches became prescriptive, as the hypothesis that resistance to changes in structure, management, and worship styles is what impedes church growth, became gospel truth. Despite increasing evidence that imposing structural and other kinds of changes from the top down does not make churches grow (and the reluctant realization among some that the better lesson, if any, to be learned from Routhage's work is that clergy and laity both need to be sensitive to adapting structures to changed conditions once growth occurs), bishops, clergy, interim-ministry specialists, and others continue to push for change and risk-taking for their own sake, with unquestioning faith that casting aside the old will bring in the new (and numbers). While the business world has long put aside Peter Drucker's MBO (management-by-objective) methods, or at least has substantially modified them in light of experience, church leaders continue to blindly position themselves to implement decades-old formulas based on the notion that "family" and "pastoral" sized congregations are infantile and that laity must be compelled to "mature" into larger and larger organizations and the kinds of activities and mission that more people and more dollars can produce.

When these programs are met with questions, let alone resistance, the congregation is told time and time again that they must have faith in their leaders, their expertise, and do all they can to ferret out anyone and anything that stands in the way of reaching the unchurched masses, who are just waiting in the wings to be embraced and revived by the new, risk-taking, lively community that is to be reborn, unhindered by anything musty or old or, heaven forbid, "traditional." As a result, a few people leave, many others go underground, and everyone else feels better because they have been brave and bold and demonstrably ready to try and do "new" things for the sake of the church triumphant. Congregational life goes on, generally with no substantial changes in numbers (or structures, for that matter), though the words and music and furnishings may have been altered considerably.

What is lost in these episodes is genuine care and concern for others, including any effort to learn about, understand, and appreciate what has been meaningful or important to those who have been "churched" for many years, sometimes still, even lifetimes. Who really are the resisters and obstacles to change? What makes them tick? What do they think and feel when they kneel and pray? read the Bible? or simply gather up their families and head to church every Sunday? What can be seen behind their cursory nods, utterances, and even complaints? Do the words and rituals that have taken them through good and bad times really have little potential for use or meaning to others?

And finally, who gets to decide whether changes are desired or needed? It seems to me that the church-growth progressive mindset does just as much, and perhaps more, to infantilize the laity as the older, more blatantly autocratic leadership of the past. Instead of "Fr. says so" as the reason for doing something, it is now the "experts" who have decreed that it must be so. Laypeople often are not directly consulted, encouraged to ask questions, or their feelings considered at all, but rather face rigid walls of "this-is-what-the-experts-tell-us" and pre-made bundles of changes that "everyone else" in the larger church is making. They tell their clergy that yes, they want and need growth, they want more young families, children, more helping hands and dollars, and, of course, they don't mind some changes if that will help keep the church doors open. And then... it's off to the races to see which priests and parishes can boast the most radical changes.

The problem as I see it is not the changes themselves. There may be something of value in trying something, anything to try to at least temporarily hold fast in the midst of sweeping cultural changes, and new and different is not necessarily bad, any more than old and traditional is. What is wrong, IMO, are the assumptions, stereotypes, misunderstandings, miscommunications, arrogance, and hypocrisies that are perpetuated by the manner in which most changes are heralded and instituted.

My case in point -- the historically Finnish Lutheran church in a small midwestern city, housed in a beautiful, ultra-modern "new" building constructed on the growing edge of town in the late 1960's, a sanctuary with high ceilings, expanses of white and sunlight, centered by a larger than life-sized crucifix, sculpted or modeled out of some kind of new, synthetic material, arms and limbs truncated, and a fully, anatomically correct, unclothed Jesus on the cross. The church building and the artwork were commissioned and paid for by those thrifty Finnish-Americans, whose families came to work in the local barbed wire factory, who scraped and saved to tithe all their lives, as well as securing modest homes and educations for their children. The building contained, in addition, a huge kitchen, fellowship hall, classrooms, and meeting spaces, which were used not only by church groups but by all manner of local organizations, AA and Al-Anon, boy scouts, non-religious organizations for children's playgroups, after school care, etc. Men worked as hard in the kitchen as the women, in preparation for congregational events.

This was (and as far as I know, still is) one of the most open, forward thinking, humanly caring faith communities I have ever encountered. Yet, for nearly a decade, it was branded as Resisters-to-Change, in part because one day a new pastor walked in, armed with all the latest Routhage ideas, and pronounced that there would be no more kneeling in Sunday church services. Despite the cost and care that went into designing and building kneeling rails in the "new" building, in accord with the contemporary architecture and art, focus group and survey results showed that "sin" was off-putting to the unchurched, so no more reciting the corporate confession at the beginning of the service. Nor was there time for going up to the long altar to kneel for Communion. Everyone was required to stand, file up in two lines in the front of the church, take communion as quickly as possible by intinction, and get back to the pews so the service would never run more than 60 minutes at the most.

The people went along, as good Lutherans did (and probably still do), because "Pastor" said so, but it caused much distress. The new pastor left two and a half years later, and there was some backsliding during the interim, another pastor who was called who could not get over the popularity of the interim, and one thing led to another, and only after a decade of something like five different pastors and shunning by the bishop, did things finally settle down. A few of the liturgical changes were kept (like weekly communion weekly at the main Sunday service); others (like the elimination of the Confession and kneeling) were abandoned. Membership and attendance stayed about the same (200-300 -- much better than most Episcopal parishes, but not substantially different than it had been before).

Now, in the larger scheme of things, I would be the first to admit that it does not really matter whether one stands or kneels, intincts or not. None of these things have any intrinsic meaning or worth in and of themselves. But they do have meaning and worth in the personal lives and communal memories of those for whom ritual and sacramental worship is customary.

What is at stake, as I see it, is not whether this or that could or should be done differently, whether contemporary culture and music can or should enrich worship and other aspects of religious communities. The question is why do these matters consume the time and energy and resources of existing churches? Why are people shamed or forced into conflict over them? Why doesn't the church encourage and reward clergy who come in and focus first and foremost on the people who are there, nurture their faith and their ministry to one another and the surrounding community, and find out what they want to learn and do most to grow as Christians, and see how they can best be assisted in doing that? Why can't we all put the furnishings and music issues aside and get back to basics?

So, Susan, and anyone else out there, do you honestly believe that the kind of risk-taking you describe is good and necessary? Do you know for certain that the resisters are the wrong-doers rather than the wronged? Did Jesus call us to risk changing liturgies (or giving up icons or rosaries)? Or is it enough to risk loving one another, forgiving as we hope to be forgiven, and offering our selves and our lives to God?

I am not so sure that Christ did not call us to form congregations. He did say that whenever two or more are gathered in His name, He is there in the midst of that community.

Rather than a lack of individuality, I think the problem is that the community is lacking completeness. Christianity was never meant to be a temple religion with separate people taking a number to approach the altar. Instead, it is a shared life and therein lies the rub in our subatomic sprawl developments. The mainline churches have each counted on a surrounding community of extended families which will use the church as just one meeting place among others. That is no longer the case. There is, especially, no economic cohesion among the congregants and, consequently, little social cohesion. We don't work with the other people in the pews. We don't live with them; when it comes to paying the rent, we are each on our own. We rarely eat with them and hardly ever dance with them or make music with them. We have loans and other financial commitments to those outside the congregation, instead of each spotting each other. We do not till a common land for our food and only cook in common for special occasions. How, then, can we say we have a common life? How can we say we are the Body of Christ when what should be our most intimate community is kept an arm's length or a half hour drive away?

So my admittedly radical proposal is for some of us to get together in full, self-sufficient communities, living together in law, in colleges in the sense of the Latin root of that word. Our invitation to "those not yet here" can then be a complete welcome to break bread with us, to play us a tune and to thank God for your company.

"How, then, can we say we have a common life? How can we say we are the Body of Christ when what should be our most intimate community is kept an arm's length or a half hour drive away?"

Because there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female in Christ? Because Christ himself said that "whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother"?

The fact that we may have little in common with one another (on the surface) is one of the benefits of belonging to the same church, in my view. It says, basically, that none of that other stuff is really very important.

There's nothing that stops a church community from being intimate, I should also add. A.A. meetings are among the most intimate of situations - but after the meeting is over, everybody goes their separate ways, too. (Of course, people do use the phone a lot. But so could people in a church congregation.)

Contrariwise, being together with other people doesn't necessarily imply intimacy, either.

For those interested in a statement of doctrine, I would suggest General Convention resolution 2009-A074, Endorse Theological Statement on Interreligious Relations. It is interesting that this statement came from our effort to describe ourselves to those who do not share our tradition.

Marshall Scott

Thanks for that link, Marshall Scott - very interesting indeed....

Kathryn, as I mentioned in my post, we worked hard to gently lead the congregation toward consensus in making the change in worship schedule. Consensus does not mean unanimity - for instance, in the case of the couple who left the church. But it did mean that almost everyone was at least willing to try the experiment, because they understood and agreed with the goals (reaching new people with Christ's life-transforming love). I don't think that change decreed by the clergy has a whole lot to recommend it if there is not significant work done to lead the congregation to agreement. That's what leadership is. Decreeing change about kneeling or whatever stylistic matter is being considered is not leadership, it's exercising authority. Authority goes only so far when you are a clergy person. Leadership takes you much farther.

I don't think music and worship is the sole cause of our decline in membership ... but I'm going to open a can of worms and say that I definitely think it can be improved, and our traditional music isn't appealing to the majority of young adults.

I think that services that appeal to youth don't necessarily have to come at the expense of existing models. For example, the Crossing at Boston Cathedral is a separate, Thursday night service at the cathedral. Canterbury House at the U of M is a student ministry that has its own building, but its services on Sunday night don't conflict with regular schedules.

http://www.thecrossingboston.org/
http://www.canterburyhouse.org/

The music at those two (worshipped at C-House and attended an external service by the Crossing) was definitely a lot more contemporary but did a great job at retaining the timelessness and the meaning of the traditional hymns. For me, setting the hymns to the organ is very tired. The organ is too loud, it doesn't phrase stuff very well, it sounds especially terrible with most LEVAS songs... I could go on. Like I said, I know I've opened a can of worms. And I'm not saying that changing to contemporary worship is what's going to save the church by itself. But we need to be open to different musical styles. We need to support ministries with more contemporary styles, both to attract younger folks and to keep our worship fresh.

Upon further reflection, I'd like to make some additional comment on music and liturgy in response to Kathryn's comments.

Bishop Reinhart used liturgy as a first example, but it doesn't appear that he was only thinking about liturgy. Nonetheless, some folks have responded as if he was ...

It's true that progressives tend to be more comfortable with change and to actively seek change more than conservatives (on average, in both cases). Kathryn, in my experience, when I suggested some things that could be improved with my old church's worship, I met with resistance at every step. That made me more and more upset at the status quo.

I think that Episcopalians who are seeking changes in our liturgy aren't necessarily saying that every church's liturgies should be completely redone. Your comments seem to imply that that's your impression of liturgical progressives ... but I wonder if continued resistance to even minor changes has hardened the opinions of the liturgical progressives you've met.

Ultimately, I can accept that there are a diversity of liturgical styles that appeal to different folks. However, the fact is that the Episcopal church is aging, on average. I do not see many younger folks coming into our services - at 30, I'm often one of the younger ones. I don't think our music is accessible enough to younger folks. I've seen Episcopal services done in more accessible formats - the two congregations that did it well are the ones I linked to.

The thing is that there doesn't seem to be any place in the church for younger adults and their tastes. It's as if every congregation thinks that we're asking for the liturgy to be completely redone and responds with hostility towards the suggestion that there are things that could be improved - consistent with the tone of your posts, unfortunately.

Frankly, at this point, I no longer regularly attend church because I cannot find any whose liturgy I like. Like I said, I got stonewalled at the last church where I attempted to suggest improvements, and that really ticked me off, and besides I like to go cycling on Sunday morning. If the Episcopal Church continues to make no spaces where the interests of 'outsiders' are considered, then I don't come back. Churches can change up some things in their regular services, they can create new and separate ones for younger folks, they can do a mix of both, whatever. But right now, I see both general inaction, and an apparent attitude that even the most minor changes are treated as a threat, which I frankly think is nuts.

I think music always deserves attention and care - it just should not be the focus of or conflated with concerns about attracting new people. Statements like "our traditional music isn't appealing to the majority of young adults" can be distracting and unhelpful because it not only makes a sweeping generalization, it takes attention away from local contexts, talents, and needs. Our parish has its choir stalls full of young people, many of whom enjoy and prefer our style of Anglican music (which regularly includes recently composed pieces from the Sewanee's Composers Project, among other sources, not all of them Anglican) when they are in church, while walking in and out with their MP3 players with all varieties of their own contemporary music. Youth do not draw lines the ways adults often do, and are amazingly open to whatever gives voice to peoples' hearts, whether it be Palestrina, Rutter, gospel, or anything else, just as they mix up old and new rock (the Beatles, the Doors, the Stones, the Allman Brothers, etc. being as "current" as everything else). In many places, there are great young musicians in school bands, orchestras, and choruses who welcome the opportunity to engage in and with the kind of music which, at this point in time, they often can only find in Episcopal parishes (and occasionally other mainline denominations).

In my experience, one can tell just walking into a parish whether the music speaks to and gives voice to peoples' hearts. At Christmas, especially, I think of the young people who trade off singing acapella a solo or duet of the first verse of Once in Royal David's City. I recall my old Lutheran parish with the woman in her late 80's belting out the familiar hymns, off key, yes, but with such joy one could not help but enjoy it. I also know at least one 16 year old who attends one of the new non-denominational churches that meet in large informal settings, who not only loves their contemporary Christian music, but embraces and lives the Gospel like few I've ever known.

There can and must be room for all kinds of music, devotions, and faith communities that share who and what they are with whomever they reach. The problem, as I see it, is the programmatic, one-size-fits-all approach, which preaches a single style and form as not just God-directed and inspired but as absolutely mandatory for evangelism -- indeed, as one in the same, and with it a seldom-disguised contempt for the people "inside" the church (whatever that means), as so eloquently and clearly expressed by Bishop Rinehart (scroll down far enough and one can find at least one commentator who asks what happens when the outsiders come inside?).

Susan, I agree entirely that communication, learning, listening, cooperation, and finally acceptance are keys to any kind of significant planned changes in congregational life. Needless to say, some are better equipped be leaders than others, and, unfortunately, some situations are simply beyond the help or guidance of gifted leaders.

What concerns me a little is this: "... almost everyone was at least willing to try the experiment, because they understood and agreed with the goals (reaching new people with Christ's life-transforming love)." I take at face value this was the intent of both the leader and the congregation. I also genuinely share the hope and expectation that the changes will accomplish those goals.

What I have seen and heard and read in some places, however, is a manner of selling those kinds of goals in a way which, even if presented and implemented well, in terms of soliciting and gathering support, still allows no room for questioning, let alone vigorous debate, about the assumptions underlying the particular changes being advanced, including first and foremost the goal of looking to and for the outsiders, and asking for sacrifice for their sake.

The outsider meme is a powerful message (as can be seen by most of the comments on Rinehart's web page, which reflect the genuine warmth and concern and enthusiasm, which I have known and experienced especially among Lutherans). Evangelistic fervor is naturally most welcome in mainline churches who see their numbers declining precipitously, their pews at least half-empty, and the heads mostly gray or graying.

But as well- intentioned as all this may be, it seems something like Jesus's temptation in the wilderness -- as if people can imagine, just beyond their reach, a great power to bring the Gospel message to one and all by means other than transforming their own lives and working with those immediately surrounding them to do it together. It is very difficult to see Satan's horns or whatever behind the halos of those preaching about the necessity of placing the "outsiders" first, of making the "insiders" feel warm and good about their "sacrifices," which are cast as minor concessions, inconveniences, or matters of taste, preference, and familiarity. But I suggest it is not all virtuous and good, and that at times it may be seriously distracting when faced with cultural and economic realities that belie all the planning and efforts that are put into such changes, which might have been placed elsewhere, even in programs like Stephen Ministries or more attention paid to those in or recently in the pews struggling with unemployment, disease, family strife, and all sorts of other troubles.

What do the church growth people have to say to the woman whose young child was brutally murdered who may come back to her home parish to find that the liturgy and music that she loves and knows and is her last hope of connecting with God once again, is gone, suddenly, completely, for the sake of "outsiders" who never come? Yes, there may well be better ways of reaching her and her reaching us or whomever she may need, but we KNOW she is there. We don't know that anyone who may well but put off by our traditions will come to find us in our cold, cavernous worship space in a dead downtown rather than a nice warm Assembly of God or even Methodist gathering elsewhere. We also know of the people already in our midst for whom their participation as choristers and acolytes in their youth are very much part of their present lives in our faith community. And the persons who have come to us recently from the Methodists (after a very long and faithful membership, just no longer being able to deal with the bouncing ball and the overhead screen and not hearing the Wesley hymns), and the Roman Catholics, each come for one reason or another, and thankful for not only the familiar worship style but the only Protestant haven they can find that allows for belief in and action with respect for the Real Presence?

The Anglican tradition is uniquely Protestant and Catholic, and there has been and should still be plenty of room for both, done differently in different places. Yet as a whole, TEC seems to be more and more in the grips of those who have no knowledge, no understanding, no sensitivity concerning Catholic worship and the incarnational theology that underlies it. Our church growth experts and consultants seem to have no clue as to when, where, and how ritual, including repetition, signs, symbols, and physical movement, congruent with particular kinds of musical settings, can be powerful and helpful to people new to the church, as well as those who have grown up with it. And yet most of our bishops and clergy are literally enchanted by their promises of renewing and rebirthing the church based on arbitrary and often ill-conceived programs. They don't seriously ask people what they want, what is important to them (rather than what can they live without or are willing to "sacrifice" forothers). They don't listen, and they cannot truly care unless they take the time and effort to look at church from the perspective of the bog-standard laity, not just the movers and shakers in church politics, conventions, and "strategic" planning.

In the end, as far as I'm concerned, it's not the changes that matter -- some, may, in fact, be good, especially if taught well (some uses of inclusive language, for example). But I fear that our church will never live to see the fruition of such changes as long as we diminish and demean those already "inside" the church. As Mary Glasspool said so eloquently and clearly, the church is for "all" and that really means "all"! no outsiders or insiders, of any kind, just, plain ALL.

Weiwin,

I'm sorry that we cross-posted. I do understand what you are saying and agree with much of it, believe it or not.

You said, for example, "but I wonder if continued resistance to even minor changes has hardened the opinions of the liturgical progressives you've met."

Yes, no doubt about it. Indeed, that I'm sure is what inspired Bishop Rinehart to speak as he did. Let me continue (briefly, this time, however) in a moment.

Congregations are all plagued by the vagaries of personal and social dynamics, which come into play no matter what the issue -- changes in music and liturgy, building new parking lots, trying a different kind of Christmas or Epiphany pageant, or even a different format for a service bulletin or newsletter. It's enough to make any sane person want to stay home in bed with the newspaper, a cup of coffee, take a walk in the park, and or simply spend time with family or friends.

The difficulties with living in a human community of any kind have lately been exacerbated by the polarization and divisions in society as a whole, together with the vast changes in the roles that churches and other religious organizations play in their surrounding communities. Church membership and attendance are optional in the U.S. and other Western societies in ways it hasn't been for a long time. That means that anyone, lay or clergy, who seek to lead or even, as you have done, make positive suggestions for change or improvement, face enormous obstacles. Many of the individuals "inside" are broken and troubled in proportions that may be quite different from what religious communities previously have experienced. And churches attract both clergy and laypersons who are all the more zealous in advancing their views and desires because they feel and see themselves as impotent in making changes elsewhere, whether it be at work, in their families, or the government or society at large. In addition, social ties and networks are much looser or fluid than ever before. We are all much more accustomed to seeking and finding likeminded people and, if need be, casting off groups or affiliations as our interests and needs change, or simply as we become dissatisfied with the groups and organizations we have previously spent time with or even exerted great efforts for.

I don't know where this will all lead, whether churches as we have known them have any chance of surviving at all. All I know is that the people currently "inside" are the ones who, for whatever reason, see some value in being part of a faith community, with putting up with all the nonsense, and sometimes emotional bruising and scuffling. I believe that community, of some sort or another, is at the heart of Christianity, that without communal life of some sort, we can do nothing more than bat around thoughts, ideas, and prayers in our heads and think about doing "better" from to time -- not entirely a bad approach, but not fully Christian in its broadest and deepest meaning. And yet what I see and hear from many in the church growth movement (sometimes know more realistically dubbed "church revitalization"), is bizarrely anti-communal in the essence of its vocabulary and thinking. Communal ties and traditions are conflated with obstacles to growth and evangelism. There is little evidence of nuanced understanding in between and little or no desire to spend time listening and learning from, say, the women with the worn Bibles that Kathleen Norris wrote about in Dakota. The urgency, anxiety, and panic about the condition of our finances, buildings, and, in that very real and practical sense, our futures, are overtaking our commonsense and our awareness of what is going on in the lives of the people "inside", whose needs may be, if not more pressing, ones we can better minister to than those who are not inclined to visit our churches, let alone join them. If the lights go out and the doors close, so be it. I would just rather they do so with having loved and respected those who hung on until the very end. I fear too many of our bishops and clergy would rather just move on, build new churches, where they can, and leave the "old" sheep alone in the cold, branded as ones who do not care about anyone but themselves. That, to me, is as deeply wrong as the hostility that can and does meet honest efforts for change and good ideas for improvement.

Katrhyn, I have to side with Weiwen Ng on this one. I have been a faithful churchgoer my entire life, serving at the altar, as a lector, as a cantor, as a chorister, doing prison mission, homeless outreach, and a education. I no longer attend a church regularly because I had the misfortune of moving to an area where the “insiders” brook no mention of any kind of change and frankly don’t seem to pleased to see any “outsider” walk through the doors.

It’s the “That’s the way we’ve ALWAYS done it” shriek that greets even a mention of maybe trying something different for any minor occasion the finally led me to give up. Funny but I actually have always preferred the Rite 1 services, which are always very early and have no music even though I am so far away politically and socially form those whom I attend with. My musical preferences are much more traditional than my political views -- I don’t care at all for modern praise music.

But I also noticed in every single church I tried to join in this area that the congregation was all of one race, largely all of one age, and clearly all of one socio-economic status. I didn’t fit because I wasn’t a member of these groups. I felt like an awkward guest at a country club every time I went. So I quit going.

It’s very troubling when you talk about the insiders because one could gauge from your lengthy examples that the only thing they are loyal too is having things the way they want them at all times or else they take their tithes and go elsewhere. I doubt that’s your meaning but that’s what I’m hearing. Your dismissive and almost negative take on outsiders who are “unkown” and whom “may or may not” do the things that the insiders do means very little other than that you seem to fear outsiders and want they to stay outside.

Pretty much confirms my belief that in many places the Episcopal and Lutheran churches are little more than Republican (Country Clubs) at Worship. I pray that we may come to some kind of truce where we can some day see the possibilities of changing that to “All God’s Children at worship” but we’re not their now and if congregations continue to follow an outdated and inoperable social hierarchy model of doing church we will never reach that goal and much that is beautiful and Christ-like will be lost as the last insider is buried.

Priscilla, I understand ancedotally, at least, that there are still Episcopal parishes like you describe. Ours happens to have long had quite a bit of diversity, including whites of many different ethnic groups and religious backgrounds (including Armenian and Roman Catholic, Italian, Lebanese, Polish, etc.), African-Americans, Hispanics, and most recently Karen refugees from Thailand, who now number something like half of our young choristers and teens in the choir. We are in an area that has suffered economic depression for many years, and whatever monied interests who might have once been "insiders" have all since left, either to retire or relocate their businesses elsewhere. Choir members include men in their 50's and 60's and beyond who were in the Men and Boy's Choir when they were children. Some of our past choirmasters have gone on to renowned church musicians and composers in large cities. Our new "insiders" from Thailand are used to services similar to Rite II and have started coming to Rite II so their children can sing in the choir. I'd like to know why this parish of mostly people of modest means and diverse backgrounds who share the Book of Common Prayer and a certain musical tradition should change dramatically for the sake of people who are not fond of it. There are other Episcopal parishes, Lutheran, Presbyterian, and many other churches where one can get other kinds of music and liturgies. Nevertheless, we are looked down upon in the diocese, and probably the church at large, as doing something terrible and old-fashioned, and anyone else who tries to continue to bring in new members based on the unique traditions we have are considered crazy. No, one cannot build a mega-church with former Roman Catholics, Armenians, refugees, and middle to lower-middle class people, but one can have a vibrant and warm faith community.

Believe it or not there is are vast areas of the Midwest and Northeast that are not urban, suburban, or full of Bush Republicans, which still have Episcopal parishes. They are closing their doors, when they do, primarily because there is not enough money to keep them open, not because of tiffs between insiders and outsiders. My husband used to visit small parishes up near the Adirondacks bravely trying to stay open with 10-20 communicants. He reported that they were doing more mission work than some parishes many times their size. How can it possibly matter what kind of liturgy or music they or us or anyone uses? Why cannot or should not some people "do" church in terms of worship, the same as they always have? Does God place any less value on their prayers? Yet there are people, lay and clergy, in the larger church who truly and earnestly speak and act as if they believed that.

Kathryn, thanks for your reply. I’m sure you care very deeply about your churches and your husband’s ministry. Good for you!

Sorry about all the typos in my previous posting -- I was typing in the dark because my light burned out. Ugh!

What I hear you saying is assimilate or go away. Fine. That’s the message i’ve gotten from every church within a few dozen miles. Clearly I should’ve stayed in one of the other 4 states (3 northern, 1 midwest) that welcomed me and my viewpoint and my talents. I spent a good 35+ years serving in them.

But for good or ill I’m now in the south and there is nothing like what you talk about in your church here. I do random hits on Roman Catholic, Lutheran, and Episcopal churches when the need for fellowship becomes a deep pain for me but none have made me feel welcomed enough to stay or come a second time. That’s my bad luck I guess.

People like me and Weiwin Ng are part of the growing majority of non-church attending Americans and I guess your message is that this is fine with you because the loyal members are being put out by talk of getting new people in the pews and are offended by ideas that smack of change for the sake of change to them. That’s OK. I wish you and your church well. Someday I will find another welcoming church again and I won’t feel that I have to become someone and something I’m not to be welcomed there.

Please forgive my lack of clarity, for all my wordiness. I am NOT talking about loyal members being put out by talk of change. On the contrary, I am talking about loyal members who generally go along with the change because it is sold to them as the ONLY right thing to do, in just about all circumstances. I am talking about a professional elite of church growth consultants and marketers who do not know about local conditions or the kinds of people who are either "inside" or "outside" existing churches, who apply the same approach nationally, across denominations and state lines. I, not the "loyal members," am offended by seeing decades of this kind of conduct, based on little or no scientific or sociological evidence that these strategies work to grow congregations, and by the broad assumptions that anyone who might dare to ask (though no one does) what specific purpose will be served by changing A or B, is shunned as not "caring" about "outsiders." The issue is not to change or not to change but rather whether church leaders and their "experts" are the least bit knowledgeable, let alone sensitive or compassionate, as to what it is they are doing.

Sensitivity needs to go both ways, and understanding of how humans relate differently to God and each other requires knowledge and experience. Churches need to simply understand that people ARE different, and that your needs and my needs are not always going to coincide, and none of us our privileged to get "our way" one way or another simply because one is in or out at the moment. It should not be a zero sum game -- one side wins, the other loses. Indeed, it would be hard to identify two "sides." Instead compassion and tolerance is called for from everyone, and what should count the most is gathering people together to worship and take care of one another and others despite their differences. That doesn't take one kind of building or setting or music over another. And yet that is what people want to fight about, dividing the people inside so that regardless of who "wins," no one from the "outside" is going to want to come "in" at all.

I leave (and yes I will, at last), with these prescient words from Henri J.M. Nouwen:

But here we must be aware of the great temptation that faces Christian ministers. Everywhere Christian leaders, men and women alike, have become increasingly aware of the need for more specific training and formation. This need is realistic, and the desire for more professionalism in the ministry is understandable. But the danger is that instead of becoming free to let the spirit grow, ministers may entangle themselves in the complications of their own assumed competence and use their specialism as an excuse to avoid the much more difficult task of being compassionate.

The task of Christian leaders is to bring out the best in people and to lead them forward to a more human community; the danger is that their skillful diagnostic eye will become more than an eye for distant and detailed analysis than the eye of a compassionate partner. And if priests and ministers think that more skill training is the solution for the problem of Christian leadership, they may end up being more frustrated and disappointed than the leaders of the past. More training and structure are just as necessary as more bread for the hungry. But just as bread given without love can bring war instead of peace, professionalism without compassion will turn forgiveness into a gimmick, and the kingdom to come, into a blindfold.

Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, Chapter II "Ministry for the Rootless Generations" (Doubleday 1972).