Jim, you raise an interesting question. I was recently talking with a colleague in a congregation about many of the small rural congregations in our diocese. He suggested that we need a different undertanding of "success" than numbers or congregational growth. His question was not ASA or new members, but whether the local community would notice if the congregation closed, and whether that notice would be sense of loss.

There is, I think, real value to ministries that exist in distant places and for small numbers of people. Indeed, I think giving our siblings in such congregations some pride of place and some appreciation of the ministries they have will make it easier for them to tell their stories and seem a welcoming place for those who wish to check us out.

Marshall Scott

It seems to me that the mainline Protestant churches and probably the Roman Catholic Church, as we now know them, are dying. Many will jump in and say our church is growing and thriving, and you will be right. I'm not speaking of the immediate future. The church will continue, but with overall decline in numbers.

Within the churches right now, there is far too much focus on institutions and structures, which takes time and effort away from focus on the mission of the Gospel.

Long-term, I am quite optimistic. Jesus said, "I will never leave you nor forsake you," and I believe the words with all my heart. From the ashes the old will come a new birth in the followers of Christ. I don't know exactly what the new thing will look like, but I expect that it will look quite different from what we see today.

Just my 2 cents and, I realize that many will not like what I say here. It was quite difficult for me to decide to post my words here at the Café.

June Butler

I agree, Marshall, that average Sunday attendance isn't necessarily a measure of anything but size. But I feel that our Church and other mainline denomination have offered so many reasons that our dwindling numbers don't really matter (some credible, some not) that I believe we would do ourselves a favor by ignoring them all for a season, and simply asking why we don't matter as much to as many as we used to.

Two thoughts:

It is a pet peeve of mine that "growth" seems only to refer to numbers of attendees. As a data lover, I do like my measurables, but what about other signs of growth? Percentage of congregation involved in leadership, number of teachers, people who volunteer in the community, etc. Surely there are other ways we can grow rather than size.

Secondly, it seems to me that emphasizing growth in attendance leads to a growth by any means necessary mindset with numerical growth the only sign of good. Look at Jesus: he was willing to not have some who wanted to follow him do so (Luke 9:57-58, Mark 10:21-22). Isn't there anything else that's more important than size?

My conjecture--not based on anything but my opinion, so take it for what it's worth--is that growth in numbers shouldn't be a goal in itself, but the result of other goals. The goal might be to make worship accessible to all, to serve a felt need in the community, etc. And if the numbers don't change, the options are a) you're not actually achieving your goal; b) this isn't the goal you need to focus on; or, possibly, c) you have achieved your goal and this is the work you're supposed to do whether or not it brings in an influx of people. Your success is not necessarily reflected in numbers.

Take music, for example. Is music better because more people listen to it and like it? There's a place for popular music, but there's a place for (for example) opera, too. Just because La Boheme doesn't draw as many people as Lady Gaga doesn't make the opera bad.

Laura Toepfer

By the same token, Alban Institute has always made good hamburgers, but I'm not sure hamburgers are much in demand anymore. Or if they are whether they should be. Should Alban Institute be redirecting its focus?

"The church" is a gathering of worshipers. It is not a social service agency, a political action committee or a concert hall, though it should serve in faith, organize in faith and sing in faith.

There will always be a need for the gathering place, even in the internet age and beyond. Worship is a shared activity. We will always need church buildings.

We should seek to grow in numbers and in faith. ASA matters; so does access to power in our parishes, which are largely designed to keep older people (and ordained people) running the show. We have real opportunities now to restructure parish life so that younger people have the ability to design and operate their own ministries.

The current top-down model drives younger people away. We don't mean to but that's what we're doing. We need to reveal our hidden motivations as Alice Mann suggests.

Jesus was 30 when he started. That's prime time for ministry. He didn't have to work his way up to land a vestry spot at 50.

There will always be a market for burgers. We make great burgers, so let's open up for business: Heaven is open, come and see.

First, the article talks about months and years of study. Really?

In an era where you are lucky to keep a priest for five years, this is navel gazing at its finest. I like a lot of what the AI has done in the past, but this makes everything way too complicated and cerebral.

Great comments, especially June's: "Within the churches right now, there is far too much focus on institutions and structures, which takes time and effort away from focus on the mission of the Gospel."

Compare the church with, for a random example of a declining presence, network TV, where ratings continue to decline, in large part because the society they were created in no longer exists (sound familiar?).

Where are they headed? How have they adapted? What can we learn from them?

There are plenty of other industries to look at, and things to learn from each of them.

But first, you have to realize the rules have changed, whether you like them or not.

I completely agree, Grandmere, and I am more convinced of it every day. I share this opinion with colleagues often. And it often is not well received. Recently one replied, "I hope that's not true. This is how I make my living."

I don't know what's rising out of the ashes, and there are days when as a still-under-40 priest I want to quit the church until we figure it out, AND, it seems to me that at the very least, my job is to keep vigil in this death and proclaim the promise of new life. Central to that is teaching and preaching and celebrating with my brothers and sisters the sacraments that God has given us as sure signs of God's faithful presence. The rest is up for grabs!

Donna McNiel

I confess that I find many of our conversations about growth increasingly irksome. The anxiety level always goes up, and how is that helpful?

No one wants to join a community wringing its hands and navel gazing over its own demise.

Nor does anyone want to simply become a number to prop up a flagging institution.

We too often get the cart before the horse.

The real questions, as Jim, June, and Donna and others all point to:

Are we being faithful to the Gospel?

Does our institution serve our mission of Christ Jesus to transform hearts and reflect God's work in the world?

Are people finding spiritual nourishment, hope, and empowerment for ministry and service in their local communities?

If these criteria are being met, growth will follow. If they aren't, institutional death is a natural outcome.

But we are not children of the institution. We are people of the resurrection.

When I hesitated about posting, I had very much on my mind those who make a living by their service in the church.

...it seems to me that at the very least, my job is to keep vigil in this death and proclaim the promise of new life. Central to that is teaching and preaching and celebrating with my brothers and sisters the sacraments that God has given us as sure signs of God's faithful presence.

Donna, that's how it seems to me, too.

Sorry, I forgot to sign my name.

June Butler

@John - I don't know as I don't eat beef - LOL. I find this is aimed at suburban churches - we all know why a church in small town Wyoming might not grow (although Wyoming is one of the few to show growth in the past report) when surrounded by a town full of Mormons or fundamentalist protestants or Roman Catholics and the rest not interested in church. The question of would anyone notice if our church burned down is one measure of the worth of what we are doing. I don't worry about the church - God has called us together and given us the gifts we need to do what God wants in our time and place - if we are faithful that is enough. If we die -we have eternal life.

Thanks, Jim, for starting a very good conversation. In my role as the director of publishing at the Alban Institute, there are a couple of things about the article and the responses to it that I need to clarify. First, it is not a new essay. It is adapted from a book that was published in 1998; on the hamburger menu, I guess it would be called the “Alban Classic.” We chose to adapt and publish the article because it responds to questions people still ask and because it encourages congregations to think about growth and the future in non-functional ways, in ways that helps them “explore their own particular desires and recognize the conflicts that exist even within themselves.” The article isn’t really about growth, it is about barriers to growth—ones easily brought up by you and the others who for some reasons seem to object to the article.

I’ve been thinking about growth and numbers, especially in the Episcopal Church (of which I am a member and with which the Alban Institute has no formal or informal relationship). Every parish I’ve been a member of has had a majority of members who did not grow up in the Episcopal Church. There’s a large parish in our area with 1,800 members, 64% of whom grew up in other denominations! This is phenomenal growth. A large number of people are “buying what we are selling.” Where all the cradle Episcopalians went is another question, and I have no idea. In my birth denomination, the PC(USA), they’re asking the same question; I know the answer for one of them.

Again, I don’t know where you all spend your time, but I endorse your notion that mainline churches need to consider radical changes in the way they do business. It does seem, however, that approaches that encourage us to “try to feel the heat of God’s desire for us and for the people around us” are far from the old way of doing business. One of the approaches we try to bring to congregational life—part of the “refocusing” it appears John Chilton hasn’t noticed we’ve been doing for years—is to take a positive approach to congregational change, to build on strengths rather than dwell on weaknesses. The church at large and individual congregations all have plenty of both. Which interest us, and why?

As a cradle Episcopalian (and a deacon), I find that, with June, I resonate most in this conversation with Donna's
"...it seems to me that at the very least, my job is to keep vigil in this death and proclaim the promise of new life. Central to that is teaching and preaching and celebrating with my brothers and sisters the sacraments that God has given us as sure signs of God's faithful presence."
As Richard says, it's ultimately all about resurrection. The death that precedes that has become, increasingly, less and less threatening to me, not only because of my age (68), but because of the continuing "resurrections" I have have witnessed during the 22 years I've worked as a hospital chaplain, in a population of the severely traumatic head injured and their families.
HOWEVER, though in many ways the hospital is my parish, I don't know where I'd be without the strength and apostolic authority of the (necessarily) institutional church and its sacraments.

(Editor's note: Thanks for the comment. We need your full name next time.)