Saturday, January 31, 2009

A Volley from the Canon, #37

“Space and Function”

Prior to 1975, I was not around in the Episcopal Church to know what people were thinking when they did things like build church buildings with no rest rooms, place parish halls at the bottom of long, steep steps or on the far side of cemeteries, purchase pews from some dungeon apparatus dealer, and tack on kneelers showing the brand name de Sade. Clearly, there was once a common understanding that attending church ought to hurt some, to be effective.

They may have been onto something, because the decline in mainline church attendance has coincided with the increase of mercies, in various forms: like letting the children miss the sermon and prayers, but get communion; the option of standing (or sitting, or wallowing on the floor, for that matter, depending on age) instead of kneeling; emphasis on shorter and sweeter sermons; allowance of casual dress. Be that as it may, our worship, since 1979, has shifted in its emphasis-- we are more community oriented, and less individualistic, more a community at prayer than a group of individuals praying in sync. That emphasis calls for changes in the way we worship, too, the way we structure worship, the way worship looks and feels. But there is an important liturgical principle that has not changed:

The Building Always Wins.

Many of us struggle to lead meaningful and varied worship in settings that were designed for one style, and one style only. Many of our buildings are old and venerable, perhaps even land-marked. We wouldn’t have the funds to replace them, as they really ought to be replaced, for public worship anyway, even if we had the desire to do so. I humbly submit, with the greatest apprehension, but also deep sincerity, this little tidbit of information for the prayerful consideration of those responsible for worship:

Even if a church building itself is protected as a historical structure (or should be), its furniture is not.

Just think about it.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

A Volley from the Canon, #36

Just Do SOMETHING

The congregation may have feared “the E word,” (evangelism) for a long time. At last, a shift occurs. They are now ready (i. e. desperate enough) to consider a plan for outreach, to introduce themselves to a wider swath of their community. The question is: what to do?

Radio ads? How about a billboard or two? Newspapers! Fliers! Doorbell ringing, anyone? Sign on the city bus?

Soon, the planning group is reduced to bickering, playing one idea against the next. No matter what gets suggested, there is someone to point out its flaws. It’s too expensive. It reaches too few people. It reaches the wrong people. We tried it twenty years ago, and it didn’t reach ANY people.

What it amounts to is that the idea, whichever it might be, is no silver bullet. It fails to guarantee that, in just a few short months, the church’s pews will be filled with happy, highly committed and involved, incredibly nice, well-heeled and generous, new members.

In other words, “the perfect becomes the enemy of the good.”

What Christians must learn is that evangelism is not about packing the pews so much as it is about expressing God’s Good News, in ways varied enough to speak to various people. No one way will communicate clearly to everyone.

In the end, it may not matter so much which thing we do as an evangelical innovation. What will matter is that we do SOMETHING. Then, after that, something else, and so on, as we respond to the folks God sends us via each of those efforts.

Monday, January 19, 2009

A Volley from the Canon, #35

A Wailing Wall

The character May in Sue Monk Kidd’s The Secret Life of Bees has a “wailing wall.” She built it herself in the back yard out of stacked stones. She needs the wall because she is afflicted with a peculiar sensitivity to tragic events in other people’s lives. When she is overcome with emotion, she goes to her wall, and she writes her thoughts and her lamentations on scraps of paper, which she stuffs into the spaces between the rocks.

May’s wall is based on the Western Wall, in Jerusalem, all that remains of the Second Temple, where Jews and others similarly inscribe their prayers onto paper and insert them into the interstices of the Temple’s foundation stones. (I should go on record in stating that the Western Wall should not be called “The Wailing Wall,” because that label is a derogatory and ill-informed reference to the Jewish custom of chanting prayers while bobbing and swaying the body, in order to “pray with one’s whole being.” The Wall is used for any kind of prayer.)

But I think there is a lot of May in all of us. Sometimes, we need to wail. We are affected by the tragic events of our world, whether they impact us directly or not. We need to express our hopes, fears, horror, and sadness, as well as our joys, to compassionate divine ears. It can be helpful to send God a note, too, as a sign of our passing presence. Not many of us can travel to Jerusalem to do it, but a holy place closer to us would be helpful.

Maybe our churches need to provide such places. They could be outdoors, on grounds or in gardens, near columbaria, perhaps. They could also be sheltered, inside covered entrances, but accessible to the public. They should be blessed and set aside for the purpose. And they need to be known to the community as places where the prayers of ordinary children of God can be expressed and recorded. Perhaps the scraps of paper could be collected periodically and offered to God, with remembrances of those who wrote them, their pain and their need.

It isn’t always easy to go straight to an “inward and spiritual grace.” We Episcopalians know, better than most, how helpful an “outward and visible sign” can be in leading us there.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Volley #34

Buzz, Continued: Negative Buzz

Some say there is no such thing as bad publicity: people remember the name, but they don’t remember what it was they heard about it. Maybe this principle explains (partially) the Paris Hilton phenomenon, which is inexplicable for any other reason. I don’t think it applies to church buzz, though.

Previously, in Volley Number 26, I suggested that getting a community talking about our congregation, about what is going on there, is a worthy goal, and it is. Many of our congregations have another, flip-side, issue to deal with: negative buzz. It may take the form of comment on the spotty, inaccurate, overwhelmingly negative news reporting we get, especially at the national level. Locally, some of our congregations have bad reputations among some in their area because of sins of their past, even distant past. Small-town memories can last for generations, and the congregation that was too high-falootin’ for Great-Grandma will have to get along without her descendants!
What troubles most, however, is the negative buzz that is self-inflicted. “A” gets feelings hurt at church (or elsewhere) with “B,” and is heard recounting it loudly with “C” and “D” over the meat cooler in the local supermarket. Reverse evangelism! How attractive does that congregation sound? Is Jesus’ message of love and forgiveness foremost there? To hear some people talk-- about their clergy, choir, lay leaders, worship, the congregation’s self-appointed lay pope, you name it-- there is nothing good or holy about the congregation they belong to. So why would anyone from outside want to be part of that? Worst of all is when the new or potential member has to witness an entire church-family altercation, in all its knock-down, drag-out, high-decibel, paint-peeling glory, right on the church property.

We all want our children and grandchildren to follow our example of active church involvement. How likely is that to happen if most of what they hear about the church and its leadership from our lips is carping and criticizing?

Much of our complaining is recreational in nature, and most of it comes from our own sin of self-focus. Something is not going the way we want it to go (starting with the aging and weakening of our own bodies), and we want the world to know, and sympathize. Yet criticism rarely produces a positive effect, while reliably producing several negative ones. We would do well to try to restrict our complaining to the ears of God, and the person we’re piqued at, in that order. In fact, if we begin with the former, we might find that we no longer need to trouble the latter.

P. S.—Yes, I know this is a carping and complaining volley. However, I feel much better now. We’ll be back on more positive turf next week!

Volley #33

How Do People Know
Part Duh

How do I know if I am welcome in a congregation, if I’m:
• divorced
• or a single parent
• or just out of prison
• or homeless
• or on welfare
• or gay
• or non-white
• or Hispanic
• or poor
• or sick
• or handicapped—blind, deaf, limited in mobility, mentally or developmentally challenged?

The fear of just showing up can be very strong, and sadly, these persons may be the very ones most in need of experiencing the healing and renewing love of Jesus through the life of one of his faith communities. We also know very well what they know—that they are not really welcome in all Christian churches, including all Episcopal ones. We would do well to ask ourselves regularly, and in various ways, how we might better convey the message of welcome and acceptance to those who need to hear it. In the meantime, here are a few start-up questions.

• Is it clear, in all mentions of Communion, that all baptized persons who wish to receive are welcome?
• Is it stated openly in all communications that this congregation welcomes seekers of all kinds, without pre-conditions?
• If the congregation would be hospitable to gay and lesbian Christians, do they ever have the courage to say so? Even a little rainbow logo or flag or banner would speak volumes.
• If anyone is Hispanic, Black, Asian, or an immigrant, how would they know this congregation would receive them gracefully?
• Is the facility handicapped accessible? Could it be? Do communications say so?
• How about young adults? Single people?
• Do the website, and all publications, contain photos of the widest possible diversity of people by age and ethnicity? Are some people casually dressed? Do they look like they’re having fun?
• Are there people in worship wearing jeans or other casual attire? Even some greeters and parking lot attendants?

Maybe all kinds of people OUGHT to know they are welcome in an Episcopal church. But for some very good reasons, they don’t.
And the next step may be the bigger challenge—making all these things true of the congregation. That requires conversion of hearts, and may take time. But isn’t conversion of hearts our specialty?