Jan Edmiston says she hit a nerve in a discussion about membership numbers. I had the opposite experience from her: I grew up in a church with barely 100 people on the rolls, and now serve a church with 370 or so. Some comments have urged shutting down small churches, others have lamented how their small church is seen by others as one that should close.

My view, I guess, is mixed, and depends on some assessment of the vitality of the ministry taking place at the church, the location, some practical questions (such as financial assessments, considerations of  prospects for stability, not necessarily huge exponential growth but concern for its opposite): some of these churches do need to enter hospice, some we need to redouble our efforts on as a denomination.

The other side of this coin is that we Presbyterians need to be doing a far better job at New Church Development and Redevelopment. In the Presbytery I serve, we do poorly. A huge obstacle here is money, but another major obstacle is vision and commitment. And as the ties that bind us together as a denomination are fraying a bit, I don’t have anything but prayers that this will improve.

Her recent follow-up post is interesting, because it gets into issues of established churches vs new churches, about where the emphasis should be:

The numbers discussion hit a nerve it seems, and I received more private comments via email than posted comments. Some were deemed too personal and/or painful to share with the masses, especially from . . .

people about to lose their congregations because they are “too small”

people who adamantly believe that small churches should be closed & fast

people who intentionally chose to join the “It” church in town because it’s cool to belong to the big cool church.

Most intriguing were Wendy’s second comments (‘Most of our churches are “established” and “institutional”. We don’t do the Christ follower real well).’

And if we start new congregations which are clearly not yet established with few adherents who care about being institutional, we need to start those churches in a new way:

1) make contacts,then 2) build Christ-centered relationships, then 3) grow disciples, then 4) start worshipping together.

Instead we’ve made the mistake of starting new congregations this way:

1) create worship service, then 2) organize Bible study, then 3) set up small groups, then 4) start mission projects.

We are starting a new worship service after many years of prayer and planning – God-willing – during Lent 2007 and it’s occurred to us that this is not the place to begin. Yikes – is it too late to back up a little?

Before the new worship service begins, we hope to spark something in this very busy part of the world by offering some casual “curious about Jesus but don’t do church” gatherings. We are leaping into this thing inspired by something Rob Bell wrote in Velvet Elvis: he knew it was time to start a new church when he didn’t care if the church was “successful” or not.

(Some emphasis added; some in the original).

My confession: something inside of me is interested in starting a church. I’m not sure yet if that is where God is calling me. Perhaps, maybe a few years down the road. So something gets flagged when I read things like this, something for me to remember. In the meantime, this is good meat for us to consider: should we just willy nilly create that “contemporary” service to draw new folk, or should we find a way to build networks of relationships first? And how, pray tell, would we do that?

(ed note: post slightly modified 11/14/08)

Thanks to everyone who responded, either in the comments or by email, to my post a few weeks ago about how our pastoral staff dropped the ball when a church member was sick and eventually died. I’m grateful for your support, your suggestions, your prayers, and your wisdom. (ed note: that post has been removed after I ended psuedonymous-blogging)

I feel like I’ve been linking a lot of late to Jan Edmiston’s blog A Church for Starving Artists. My last post in part was inspired by her work in Washington DC. It turns out that she had a good reflection about the need of the pastor and of a church for the Pastor to be the principle caregiver for a congregation. This came to her on her day off, which for many clergy isn’t always a day off. This is the second such reflection of hers in as many days:

Here are two secondary issues:
1) the pastor’s need to be The #1 Pastoral Caregiver.
2) the congregation’s need for The Pastor to be The #1 Caregiver.

In my tradition, elders are considered the spiritual leaders of the congregation. And yet, the pastor is still uniquely considered God’s Representative in ERs, maternity wards, and ICUs. I’ve been trying to train our elders to see themselves as God’s Representatives as well, and to know what to do when they get there. But we are up against a wall of beloved 20th c. Pastoral Tradition which decrees that only the ordained clergyman (and I mean “man”) held a parishioner’s hand at bedside. Only the trained pastor prayed and asked spiritually directive
questions.

Everybody else made casseroles.

Nothing against casseroles, but this has to change. And s-l-o-w-l-y it is changing. Our elders no longer run church committees, generally speaking. They are forbidden from running stewardship campaigns, coordinating educational programing, and organizing mission events. They are not supposed to hold any other office while they are actively holding the office of elder.

Instead, they are required to be spiritual leaders, focussing on a small group of members/households for whom they are responsible spiritually along with the congregation’s only pastor (me). They are supposed to know these parishioners, pray with and for them, and guide them. Great plan . . .

But here’s the catch:

• ICUs, ERs, and maternity wards don’t care what the PCUSA constitution says and don’t
  recognize that elders serve spiritual leadership roles and should be allowed to pray at the bedsides of their parishioners. (And elders don’t get free parking in most hospitals.)
• Elders themselves don’t recognize that they not only belong at those bedsides; they are called there to offer spiritual care
• Congregational members do not recognize that the elder at their bedside is representing God as surely as the pastor is

The hope is that, if I am “off” for the day, there is an elder — or a deacon — who will attend to any pastoral emergencies that arise.

The reality is that, if I am “off” for the day, and don’t attend to the pastoral emergency myself, I’ll hear about it for days to come.  (Jan was too busy at the gym to see my mother the day of her surgery.) You pastors know what I’m talking about.

When there is more than one pastor on staff, there is never a problem with this because there is always at least one other available pastor. But frankly, this is the beauty of the smaller church: unless you want a toasted pastor, the lay leadership is forced to accept their role as spiritual caregivers.

Yes, there are Stephens ministers, parish nurses, etc.  But I’d like to hear what elders (or whatever your tradition calls them) do to serve as spiritual leaders in their congregations.

• Are you still running committees?
• Do you feel equipped to serve as spiritual leaders, praying with & for your people?
• Do you think this is all a vast conspiracy to lessen clergy workloads?

I’d love to hear your comments while I head into Washington for the rest of the day on my day off . . .

A few of you who commented spoke about how we envision the relationship of clergy and the laity has to change. This post is helpful in that regard, I think. Its commended for your reflection.

I’m pleased today, and I’m praying. I’m pleased, both because, in general, things went more or less the way I had hoped they would, or better, than any prior election in many moons. And I’m very pleased that election season is over and I’ll be spared deceptive ads and multiple political phone calls for a good long while.

I’m prayerful for a number of reasons:

Even though many candidates who articulate a vision for America that I can share did well last night, and even though I’m pleased that the Democrats took the House and might even take the Senate, I’m mindful that neither political party is perfect and neither is immune to criticism or the temptation of power. I rejoice that it is no longer the case that the Republicans control everything. I’m thankful for the message sent regarding a need to reassess a quite crucial campaign against Islamic Terrorism and perhaps momentum to change some of the worst abuses of the last two years–particularly regarding our bending of the rules with regard to torture and domestic surveillance and other cherished rights. But I’m not naive enough to think that we’ll move quickly in a direction I think we should: it will take work, it will take compromise,  it will take an articulated vision, and it will take discernment.

I’m also thankful for the public servants–the politicians and their staffs–who have accepted this responsibility, regardless of party, and prayerful that a spirit of serving may fill everything that they do while in office. I rejoice that I have the opportunity to participate in elections and that we can thereby determine the course of our government.

Finally, Jan Edmiston has a very good post reminding me of prayer for those who lost yesterday. I want to reprint it here (and I even stole her picture…):

Elections are different here in the Washington, DC suburbs.

Many years ago, our church’s young adult group was having a Game Night, playing “Taboo” at somebody’s house. This game involves one person trying to get his/her team to say a word without using assorted “taboo” words as clues. Someone picked the word “whip.” And the taboo words included selections like “crack,” “bull,” “flog,” and “lash.”

The clue given was: “De Lay.” And, in unison, everybody in the room said, “Whip.” (At that time, DeLay was the majority whip in the House.) There is no other place in the country where someone could use this clue and unanimously get the correct answer without missing a beat.

On Wednesday we will face unique pastoral concerns in our church: Some
Hill Staffers will have lost their jobs (or at least they will end in January.) Other Hill Staffers will have uncertain futures. Some will awaken to a vast array of fresh opportunities and others will awaken to slammed doors. These are all basically good people who long to serve our country and their lives will have changed long after Brian Williams and Wolf Blitzer close shop Tuesday night. These citizens work long hours and make personal sacrifices to serve our nation. There will be reality to process on Wednesday.

This is what I’ll be doing November 8th. Pray for peace in the nation today.

May peace be with us all.