Today for Tomorrow is dedicated to starting a constructive conversation about the church of tomorrow and the leaders who will lead it
I don’t know if the turning of the calendar is leading me to this, but a few weeks ago I set out to embark on a tour of local congregations. Truth be told, I’ve been compiling a list of churches I’d like to visit for awhile now, but I finally made my first visit last week. So far I’ve visited one church solo and another with friends who’ve been going there for awhile, and I’m excited by the ones remaining on my list.
And although I’ve only visited two congregations so far, I’m already starting to experience a few unexpected outcomes, one of which is this: a new sense of the best of what church can be…
In my previous ministry I’d usually spend some time in my membership classes looking at Acts 6. This was to provide some context about why our church had elders and deacons. If you’re unfamiliar with the passage, it describes how as the number of people following Jesus began to grow, the needs of the community began to grow as well. In response, Jesus’ original disciples, the de facto leaders of the community instructed the people to choose seven new leaders to focus on and take care of those needs, allowing the twelve to focus on prayer and “serving” the word. Now throughout this passage the work of both the seven serving the community and the twelve serving the word is called “diaconal” work, which could be translated as “ministry” or “service”, but the name “deacon” came to be associated with the group of seven.
My partner and I recently watched the Netflix dark comedy series Beef together, and we were both struck by a scene in the series’ first few episodes when one of the main characters, a down-on-his-luck Korean-American man named Danny (Stephen Yeun) accepts an invitation to church. The scene begins with Danny standing alone just outside the sanctuary door, deciding whether or not to go into the service which has already started. He ends up going in, and as the door opens immediately a soundscape familiar to many Christians takes over the scene: electric guitar and keyboard creating a meditative musical backdrop as the worship leader prays over the congregation.
And as the worship team gets going, two things become clear: 1) Danny is in for more than he bargained for and 2) the band is good. Really good.
It turns out that…
A friend reached out recently regarding some struggles their church was having with their small groups. Specifically, although their church was mature and well developed, their small group ministry wasn’t flourishing.
I think anyone who has been around the ministry block a time or two has experienced this. And I’m nearly ready to say that the older the ministry (both the members and the congregation itself) is, the less enthusiastic it is about small groups. Although many congregants may have warm memories of deep, life changing small groups they were a part of as young adults and students, the longer its been since those memories, the less drive there is to open up to and invest in a completely new group of strangers.
So what do we do?
I’ll admit it, I’ve hit a wall.
Specifically, as I’ve been trying to write this book, after a few months of momentum (writing almost daily), a busy summer and some new ministry commitments have really “frozen” (for lack of a better term) my motivation to write. But it isn’t just the schedule shifts that are to blame. I also find myself feeling less and less conviction that I have anything to add to what’s already out there, and that whatever I do end up creating will be mediocre at best. I find myself wondering: is this really where my voice belongs?
But before I can answer that, I have to admit that I’m not exactly sure what my voice sounds like anyway. Am I trying to create a movement? Am I simply critiquing what’s out there in hopes of speeding up the transition to Church 2.0? Am I speaking to those that have left the church, or to those who are leading what’s left of it?
What does my voice sound like?
Imagine: you are sitting at church, listening to the speaker when you hear them say something you don’t just disagree with, you feel like you’re listening to an ideological enemy. This is painful and surprising, as normally you have enjoyed the sermons you’ve heard thus far, and possibly you respect what you know of the preacher. And it’s also painful because you are tired of hearing this kind of BS outside of church, church is the last place you want to be exposed to it, and short of standing up and walking out in the middle of the service, what are you going to do? You’re stuck with nowhere to go, and you can’t change the channel.
Sound familiar?
All are welcome
In “I left the church - and now long for a ‘church of the nones’”, Perry Bacon Jr., a columnist for the Washington Post, wrote something that resonated far beyond his usual readership, drawing thousands of passionate comments. In his very personal piece he shares his journey from growing up as a pastor’s kid, to being active in church as a young adult, to gradually becoming a “none”, aka one who does not belong or practice a particular faith tradition. But the part that really seemed to engage people was Bacon’s conclusion that, regardless of our beliefs or faith traditions, and regardless of how difficult it has been for him to find something appropriate, we as a nation would be better off connected to “church-like” institutions, a so-called “Church of the Nones”. He writes…