Three Things Thursday (Bonus Edition)
1) Spring is really truly here. It came very suddenly. The snow stopped; it was cold and rainy for a couple weeks, now bam, it's sixty six degrees outside and SUNNY. Only patches of snow are left in the shade. The yearly ritual begins as we find the junk that was buried all winter...oh, there's that bath mat, I was looking for the car-wash bucket, aren't those Mikey's pants?
The sun is so fresh and pure it is absolutely warm-wonderful. Like inhaling fresh air after a long illness indoors.
2) I had a few spare minutes this morning and found myself looking at the website of the big Long Beach church I attended years ago. I do this kind of silly thing from time to time. I saw pictures of three men I haven't seen in a decade or more, Rob, Blake, and I do believe Jack on bongos. I am so happy to see them with growing children and families. I knew Blake's wife when she was Estella's roomate; I knew Rob well and longer than that and Jack was a true heart to me in my last season at the church.
3) On churches: my own church, as I've said, is very old-school. It's old school because most people there are, well, old. A few years before I came a church plant was started farther down the hill and that church has grown into a much larger and family-centered congregation. My parish lost good people to the new church and this week we lost our deacon, a valuable and gifted man who had been in our parish for man years. Naturally, I have many strong feelings about this. As warden, I need to reflect on my own vision for the parish.
My job is much larger than I first thought. The vestry of the last couple of years has tried to market the parish better, reach out to younger people, but in a small town these things move slowly. Meanwhile, I've actually grown to like the old worship style. We have no band, no overheads, no multi-media, no high energy teaching. There's nothing wrong with these things, but it's not our style; also, we have no place to put a band or projectors and no one would know what to do with them anyway. There's an organ and a little choir; a somewhat shy pastor with very down to earth teaching.
I've often felt that the parish would have to embrace the revolution in worship style of the last twenty years at some point; many Episcopal churches have. When I first began attending I saw myself as an outside critic-consultant; boy did this place need help. I had been trained in ministries in college and after where numbers were the first thing anybody asked about; one of the key indicators of a healthy ministry. Polish and professional presentation was expected. I thought I had answers. I found once I got on vestry and saw what was actually going on in the parish things were much more complicated.
Now one of our parishoners, a man from the Bay area who recently moved, someone with deep business experience and a person I also consider a friend, has volunteered to consult with the rector and me on how to make our parish more successful. Of course I want to meet with him and am curious what he has to offer, but I have to say that my perspective has begun to change after five years in the woods.
For one, the culture in our small town really is its own. And the parish has survived up here for more than a century as it is. When I complain during vestry that if we don't get new people, most of the people we have now will only be attending service in twenty years from their niche in the columbarium, others note that the same thing was said thirty years before. It's long been an older church, and older people slowly join to replace those who are dying off. Our attendance numbers grew just a little last year, and we had a half dozen funerals.
For two, I have to ask myself, what truly defines a successful ministry? Perhaps this is different from place to place. Is it all numbers, budget, and buildings? Sure the parish needs to survive and that means people who show up and give. Enough do show up and amazingly, enough give. But more importantly, genuine worship does happen here in a quiet way. The sacrament is given each week to saints long past their physical prime whose shoes I am not fit to tie. Our EFM group is going strong; we're finally starting small group home studies (finally...it's taken me more than a year to get around to the kick off) and some older parish organizations, the altar guild and the daughters of the king and ones I don't even know about, continue. We support a local food kitchen with dollars and bodies. Do things have to adapt and change? Yes. Must we be open to new ideas? Yes. Still...we may never be big, we may never be cool, we may never have glitz.
Good friends of ours visited and didn't become regular partly because they had roots in another church in the community, but also because they 'really liked the band' at the other church. Okay. Also, the minister there is personally charismatic. Cool. I honestly have no negative feelings about their choice. Many people are drawn to these things. My little parish church, which I find amazed to be such a part of frankly, has taken time for me to appreciate. But I am developing a new point of view: is a ministry to 800 more successful than one to 80? Does a charismatic preacher or a great worship band, while there is nothing wrong with either of these things, really have a significant impact on individual spiritual growth? And above all, what should we focus on in our own little parish?
I've been thinking that while the vision for the parish must always be open, the focus of our work should be community building and above all depth; we must meet the physical and spiritual needs of those already here and those who walk in the door. Also, after we do all we can to make our presence known, and we are working on this, we may always be what we are now, a small, mostly older, odd little parish. Yes I want more families and kids my son's age around. But right now I don't see how that makes us any less relevant. We don't need to compete for the human market share in our community by looking good. Our job is to alleviate suffering and preach the gospel, even if we never look all that great doing it.
***
I didn't have time to write this up, but I needed it. I also realize I'm including details that would lead many, inside and outside my parish, to recognize where it is and even who I am (in the very unlikely even they should stumble on MHB). I don't care so much about the latter, but please use discretion with the former.
Peace and grace to all, and prayers are appreciated as the parish moves through this challenging time.
The sun is so fresh and pure it is absolutely warm-wonderful. Like inhaling fresh air after a long illness indoors.
2) I had a few spare minutes this morning and found myself looking at the website of the big Long Beach church I attended years ago. I do this kind of silly thing from time to time. I saw pictures of three men I haven't seen in a decade or more, Rob, Blake, and I do believe Jack on bongos. I am so happy to see them with growing children and families. I knew Blake's wife when she was Estella's roomate; I knew Rob well and longer than that and Jack was a true heart to me in my last season at the church.
3) On churches: my own church, as I've said, is very old-school. It's old school because most people there are, well, old. A few years before I came a church plant was started farther down the hill and that church has grown into a much larger and family-centered congregation. My parish lost good people to the new church and this week we lost our deacon, a valuable and gifted man who had been in our parish for man years. Naturally, I have many strong feelings about this. As warden, I need to reflect on my own vision for the parish.
My job is much larger than I first thought. The vestry of the last couple of years has tried to market the parish better, reach out to younger people, but in a small town these things move slowly. Meanwhile, I've actually grown to like the old worship style. We have no band, no overheads, no multi-media, no high energy teaching. There's nothing wrong with these things, but it's not our style; also, we have no place to put a band or projectors and no one would know what to do with them anyway. There's an organ and a little choir; a somewhat shy pastor with very down to earth teaching.
I've often felt that the parish would have to embrace the revolution in worship style of the last twenty years at some point; many Episcopal churches have. When I first began attending I saw myself as an outside critic-consultant; boy did this place need help. I had been trained in ministries in college and after where numbers were the first thing anybody asked about; one of the key indicators of a healthy ministry. Polish and professional presentation was expected. I thought I had answers. I found once I got on vestry and saw what was actually going on in the parish things were much more complicated.
Now one of our parishoners, a man from the Bay area who recently moved, someone with deep business experience and a person I also consider a friend, has volunteered to consult with the rector and me on how to make our parish more successful. Of course I want to meet with him and am curious what he has to offer, but I have to say that my perspective has begun to change after five years in the woods.
For one, the culture in our small town really is its own. And the parish has survived up here for more than a century as it is. When I complain during vestry that if we don't get new people, most of the people we have now will only be attending service in twenty years from their niche in the columbarium, others note that the same thing was said thirty years before. It's long been an older church, and older people slowly join to replace those who are dying off. Our attendance numbers grew just a little last year, and we had a half dozen funerals.
For two, I have to ask myself, what truly defines a successful ministry? Perhaps this is different from place to place. Is it all numbers, budget, and buildings? Sure the parish needs to survive and that means people who show up and give. Enough do show up and amazingly, enough give. But more importantly, genuine worship does happen here in a quiet way. The sacrament is given each week to saints long past their physical prime whose shoes I am not fit to tie. Our EFM group is going strong; we're finally starting small group home studies (finally...it's taken me more than a year to get around to the kick off) and some older parish organizations, the altar guild and the daughters of the king and ones I don't even know about, continue. We support a local food kitchen with dollars and bodies. Do things have to adapt and change? Yes. Must we be open to new ideas? Yes. Still...we may never be big, we may never be cool, we may never have glitz.
Good friends of ours visited and didn't become regular partly because they had roots in another church in the community, but also because they 'really liked the band' at the other church. Okay. Also, the minister there is personally charismatic. Cool. I honestly have no negative feelings about their choice. Many people are drawn to these things. My little parish church, which I find amazed to be such a part of frankly, has taken time for me to appreciate. But I am developing a new point of view: is a ministry to 800 more successful than one to 80? Does a charismatic preacher or a great worship band, while there is nothing wrong with either of these things, really have a significant impact on individual spiritual growth? And above all, what should we focus on in our own little parish?
I've been thinking that while the vision for the parish must always be open, the focus of our work should be community building and above all depth; we must meet the physical and spiritual needs of those already here and those who walk in the door. Also, after we do all we can to make our presence known, and we are working on this, we may always be what we are now, a small, mostly older, odd little parish. Yes I want more families and kids my son's age around. But right now I don't see how that makes us any less relevant. We don't need to compete for the human market share in our community by looking good. Our job is to alleviate suffering and preach the gospel, even if we never look all that great doing it.
***
I didn't have time to write this up, but I needed it. I also realize I'm including details that would lead many, inside and outside my parish, to recognize where it is and even who I am (in the very unlikely even they should stumble on MHB). I don't care so much about the latter, but please use discretion with the former.
Peace and grace to all, and prayers are appreciated as the parish moves through this challenging time.
Comments
it is nice to hear your eloquent voice here; no doubt, I have time to process all this, to try to balance goals for depth and growth, but it's been an interesting year and will only get more so.
t