The unrealized hope of a 'Starbucks parent'
Responding to Patrick Hall's Daily Episcopalian post about "Starbucks parents" who drop their kids off for Sunday School and then skip church themselves, Melissa Holloway offers a compelling piece about the unwelcoming nature of too many of our churches:
I was a "Starbucks Parent." Well, not Starbucks; we would take the free coffee and retreat to the little garden area and use the time to enjoy each other's company. We have more money now; today, it would definitely be Starbucks.The church had a Royal School of Church Music choir. Singing that music
changed my children. It transformed the whole family, I think. Looking
back, I wonder why we thought they needed to go to Sunday School as well.
But I know for sure why we retreated to ourselves with the coffee in that
little garden space.We got tired of being treated as invisible.
It is an experience I have had over the years in a variety of places in
churches over a range of theological stances. Unfortunately for me, and I
guess unfortunately for the Kingdom of God, it has been a uniquely
Episcopalian experience.Even now I find it difficult to describe in words. One can walk down the
Sunday School hallways or be finding a place to sit in church and encounter
a face that is familiar. Familiar because the same people seem to sit in
the same section of the nave or even familiar because you might have
substituted in the Sunday School class together some time ago. There is
often a moment when you would expect your eyes to meet the eyes of the
other person, and it would seem a slight smile, a nod of the head or some
small sign of recognition would be appropriate. Just in that very instant,
the other person becomes significantly interested in perhaps the colorful
bulletin board or maybe the stained glass windows that apparently happen to
be in view just behind your head. Better even if there is someone that
other person knows well and is delighted to see farther in the distance
behind you. It is the experience of being looked through - as if one wasn't there - as if one was invisible.See, sometimes I still buy my clothes at thrift stores, and at that time we
drove older model cars and we couldn't afford to get the little dings
fixed. No question that we could ever afford the church school, or to buy
a house in the elite neighborhood where most of the members lived. I guess
you could look at me and tell those kind of things.Funny thing though, how the experience has endured. Over the years I think
we've actually accrued a little cultural capital. Yet, the days we were
returning from my spouse's stint teaching at a European university - where he taught of all things, at a seminary - our luggage lost, sleeping on a
bare floor in an empty house, our first Sunday in the United States in a
long time - we showed up at church. I still shudder for the sake of the
church I do love, to recall, at the Peace, a manicured hand in mine, a
voice and eyes - yes, looking through me - seeking the one, just over my
shoulder with the words, "I like your hair."And of my children? The ones who went to Sunday School while we drank
coffee? The ones whose minds and hearts were formed by that profound
tradition of music particular to our church? My daughter called me on the
phone just about a year ago. She attends a small liberal arts college in
the same town where she went to high school and has continued singing in
the same church choir. Instead of finishing at the local Episcopal school,
however, she opted to spend her last official year of high school attending
the local community college and perhaps that is the reason, in the end,
that she doesn't belong. I shudder again, and for this daughter I love,
this time with anger, to recall her dear 18-year-old voice saying to me,
speaking, I regret, of the clergy, "After two years seems like they could
just recognize my face. I love this music and will always sing it, but I
am done with their religion."So I offer a response to Rev'd Hall's piece. While my spouse and I
dropped off our kids because we were tired of being invisible, maybe those
Rev'd Hill speaks of whose cars aren't dented and who go to Starbuck's, go
because they weary of all that it takes, in fact, to NOT be invisible.
Maybe they weary of the burden of the calculus of the rules of the community
about who is to be seen and who is to be unseen. And clerics should
wonder if those rules are altogether so righteous. My experience says it is
not so often that the church stands against a hostile culture, but that
the church, especially our Episcopal church, is not so different from it.
Let the staff meetings be wary of lurking arrogant piety.And why do they drop the children off?
There are other possibilities. Sometimes nowadays, I do rub shoulders
with that middle class who might be Episcopalian. For one, they can afford
babysitters and child care on their own. For two, maybe clerics in staff
meetings don't know it, but there are plenty of avenues of 'good values' out
there in the secular world.Despite my own rather ragged uneven experience of church as community, I
still believe that the church is the one place we hope to find transcendence,
to find mystery, to find beauty, to believe in love. I believe that no
matter how mucked up church can get, those things somehow persist. Maybe,
we parents who have done/do the dropping off have an irrational hope, that
even though our experience denies it, church is the home of the
transcendent and we are slow to deny that to our children. It seems so
very human to hope against the odds that the good we may not have found for
ourselves might be found for our children. Maybe it is not unrepentant
out-sourcing, maybe it is more brave hope.

I have been a member of the same Episcopal Church for 32 years. During that time we have had 5 Rectors (I think, as I remember). The personalities of those 5 men, and the (mostly male) Assistants, have varied tremendously. Their overall viewpoints about fellowship, young people and their families, and how to attract new members has also varied.
Over those 32 years, the demographics of our members has changed quite dramatically. Some of that is natural evolution, and some very much intentional.
There were only 2 Episcopal Churches in my area when I joined. Now there are 5. They are all different, physically (in terms of architecture, the grounds, etc.) and in terms of membership. The differences are not due just to the neighborhoods the churches occupy, but, I would argue, the whole ethos of the parish. That depends partly on the members, but also on the clergy, and what the Rector and Vestry considers to be priorities. There will be a lag time, if a new Rector initiates a change in direction, before it reaches its full expression. And people will travel far beyond a local church if there is one that better meets their needs and comfort level farther down the road.
All this is to say that I don't understand why people attend a church, dislike it for one or many reasons, or come to dislike it after initial comfort, and then ascribe to the entire denomination the characteristics of the one parish. I'm not talking only about the writer of this article; there have been several lately, some about why young people don't like church. If it doesn't work for you, why don't you leave and seek out another parish, whether still an Episcopal church or not, that better meets your needs?
There have been writers here lately, in The Lead or in the Daily Episcopalian, who have said that they were firmly silenced if they spoke up with alternative ideas. To a point, I get that, from the Rector's standpoint -- he/she doesn't need every other parishioner coming in to tell him what he "needs" to do differently. My current Rector has faced quibbles ranging from why he grew a beard to why he preaches about Jesus all the time (!!). On the other hand, if I felt that I could not even voice my concerns, and have a rational conversation about why they were or were not something that might be fixable, I'd be out the door.
Within the Episcopal Church, more than most other denominations, there is variety from parish to parish, because not only are there differences in the personality and style of the leadership, but there are options in the style of worship from very Anglo-Catholic to very "low church."
I have taken to heart for a long time the dictum "if you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem." If you cannot be part of a solution because no one will listen to you, then go somewhere else, for crying out loud! If you are not the only one who feels the way you do, enlist your fellows and hold meetings, document the problem, present the Vestry with something other than "I didn't feel welcome." And if nothing can be done, or the parish is just plain stuck in the mud, then vote with your feet and your pocketbook. The odds are you can find another place that will feel more like home to you.
Sarah Ridgway
Posted by Sridgcw
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September 27, 2012 9:26 PM
Unfortunately I think the writer's experience is more common than not in Episcopal Churches. I visit a lot of churches doing supply and interim and just attending - I see that behavior towards some and not towards others by church members. I generally stand around at coffee hour and look friendly - open to conversation - usually I end up talking to other visitors while members rush on. One place I went they had tables for coffee hour - a great idea - but all the members clumped up at tables leaving no place for newer people or visitors - we ended up sitting around the edges deciding if it was worth a return. As to finding another church - not so easy in small towns or if one can't drive all over looking for another one and you really like Episcopal worship. Hard to be part of the solution it no one will speak to you.
Posted by Ann Fontaine
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September 27, 2012 9:47 PM
I have very rarely experienced this and I have probably attended two dozen Episcopalian churches as a visitor as a constantly moving Navy wife. I am not discounting the experience of the writer, but I don't want this to be seen as universal. Episcopalians have always been friendly to me. And I definitely am not upper class; I'm a twentysomething lower middle class enlisted military wife to a baby boy, by profession a teacher, using welfare to pay for groceries. But I have always made an effort to attend smaller congregations instead of mega-churches. They always seem grateful to see a new face.
Lisa Jones
Posted by Lisa Shirley Jones
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September 27, 2012 10:30 PM
MHO. Transcendence is what I have found through prayer and meditation. I don't think I've ever actually found that in church. What you usually find in church is that life is messy and relationships can be problematic. BUT, those messy, problematic relationships can also transform us.
At my church we have a deliberate procedure for welcoming newcomers and I think that has merit.
Posted by Bonnie Spivey
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September 28, 2012 8:03 AM
Back in the '90s, I had a couple who sent or dropped off their children for SS & worship for nearly a year. It steamed me, as the young vicar of my first church. But they had friends in the congregation who supervised the 3 young boys, who were all delightful. One Sunday the parents came to worship and rarely missed a Sunday thereafter. A mystery to me at the time.
It was some time after, when the mom was on the Vestry, that I learned the back story - one evening the oldest boy, about 8 at the time, called a family meeting. At the kitchen table he said to his parents, on behalf of himself and his brothers, "Mom, Dad - I want you to come to my church." The parents - lapsed RC & Methodist - were moved to tears.
A powerful message to this new priest about patience, evangelism, and the wisdom of children.
Posted by The Rev Robert Lundquist
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September 28, 2012 9:46 AM
Oh, Bonnie, I've definitely found transcendence, if I understand that word in this context, in liturgical worship. I can't truthfully recall an instance from Episcopal worship aside from my present parish, though; I experienced it more often in Orthodox churches. I think much of the dominant liturgical culture of the Episcopal Church might actually aim to tamp down that aspect of worship in favor of what i think of as the 1970s-style (pottery chalices, whole wheat bread, homespun vestments, earnest eye contact and emoting between celebrant and congregation), which is viewed as more incarnational.
Posted by Bill Dilworth
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September 28, 2012 10:30 AM
Bill, you know what, I wonder if people are coming to church wanting to ascribe religious value to, or paint with a shiny coat of Jesus, things that aren't really religious and have little religious content, because they aren't getting the homespun "authentic" experience at home, complete with emotions, messiness and lots of texture. Or, they find these things so self-defining that they must see them everywhere they go, from their living rooms to their cars, their churches and their vacations, or they aren't "into it". Same music, same look, same stuff, but with a Jesus-tinted semi-gloss. Many people seem to want the stuff that they think defines them to be validated even religiously so that they too are validated. But that's not a very deep welcome, that's a welcoming of someone's jewelry, or hairdo, or t-shirt, or musical tastes, or taste in wine, or what have you. Church does the world a disservice (pun?) when it works this way; all that needs to be taken off the table (Table?) and a culture of truly welcoming every person, greeting with a smile and a nod and a dose of real attention because that's how you treat people, that what it takes to turn our parishes from oaken country clubs to the Lord's House.
Posted by Clint Davis
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September 28, 2012 2:24 PM
Melissa, I am so sorry that you found your parish experience cold and distant. It all sounds so sad, both for you and your family.
I wish I could make it up to you in some way, but I don't know how, I'm afraid. I'm just another Piskie posting here on the website, and not "there".
All I can do is empathize and hope that I will see "Another You" in the future(whoever that may be) and make them feel welcomed and affirmed. And I pray one day that you and your family will give us another chance.
Pax!
Kevin McGrane
Posted by Maplewood
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September 28, 2012 4:59 PM
Sorry Bill. I should back that up just a tad.
"The body of Christ." "The cup of salvation." The gift that has always kept me from leaving.
Posted by Bonnie Spivey
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September 28, 2012 5:06 PM
Years ago when I was in seminary I observed a few families in the church where I did field work. They arrived in their tennis togs, dropped the kids off for Sunday School, and went off to the club. They finished a set or two, and arrived back just as Sunday School ended to pick up the kids. Their timing was perfect, and their discipline was dependable.
I want to give Melissa Holloway credit for trying. Perhaps she and her husband might have preferred Starbucks, but they did in fact stay at the church to drink their coffee.
I want to note that because what I saw more often was not that folks who felt invisible, or who felt imposed on because they couldn't be invisible, were missing the point. They were making an effort. More often, it was the tennis parents who were seeking to acculturate their children into values they didn't share. What I fear they succeeded in teaching their children was that faith was for children; and that once one was sufficiently grown up one could reasonably leave it behind. These were the families who, once the kids no longer enjoyed Sunday School, simply disappeared altogether. The parents thought there was no more to be gained from Church than simple "Sunday School values;" and once it seemed the kids were no longer interested there was no reason for any of them to go.
Even Ms. Holloway's daughter counters that concern for her family. She does have expectations of the Church and at a time when she's trying to be an adult, she's thinking about whether her church is meeting her needs. I'm not happy with her decision, but she hasn't simply faded away, thinking it's not important.
At the same time, I have to raise a question about appropriate expectations in church. Specifically, just whom are we in church to be visible to? Living in Christian community is, at least to some extent, about discipline - which sometimes means doing it when it doesn't feel fulfilling. If it's about our relationship to God in community, and not just about the relationship to the community, we do need to press it.
If, then, "the church is the one place we hope to find transcendence, to find mystery, to find beauty, to believe in love," that's worth pursuing for myself, and not just for my children. "Maybe, we parents who have done/do the dropping off have an irrational hope, that even though our experience denies it, church is the home of the transcendent and we are slow to deny that to our children." Maybe; but it undermines our efforts to have our children learn that if we by our behavior deny that for ourselves.
I don't want to make to strong a claim. It's been so long since I've been "invisible" in church that I usually enjoy it, at least for a while. At the same time, if we want our children to have faith, we need consistently to show our children that faith is an adult thing to do. We need them to know that faith and church are "grown-up" activities. After all, what does any child want to be more than to be "grown-up?"
Marshall Scott
Posted by mscottsail
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September 30, 2012 12:12 PM
Oh dear. Funny how difficult communication can be. Most of mine these days are in fact here, every Sunday in church, busy about lots of things, for the most part deeply Christian. Our vicar has indeed gotten lists about what I think 'welcome' means (bless him).
Interesting thing that I have been read, in some cases, as someone who 'left' or someone with no commitment.
There is to me a dark side of 'community' that most of those who stay, especially those who find their vocation in the church, haven't experienced and don't imagine. And when we, the ones who do the work in the sacristy, at the altar, in the pulpit or in the nursery, are confronted with the non-takers, however they present themselves, we need to be careful how we tell the story. It makes a difference in how those people are treated, and it also makes a difference in what kind of people we become.
Posted by Melissa Holloway
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September 30, 2012 8:59 PM