Vampire Christians?

Sometimes you can hear the desperation of the church crying out into the wilderness.

Where are all the people?

How will we pay the bills?

Why is our roof leaking?

It’s not a pretty sight.  I’ve seen churches where parishioners trounce upon new members like vampires, sucking out life from these unsuspecting innocents.

“Will you serve on this committee?  Will you do the work?  Will you give us money?  Blood or your first child is also OK.”

It is discouraging for those of us vampires.  I mean, discouraging for us in the church who truly want to serve, and require resources to do this.

We are caught pleading and begging.   It’s the season for us not-for-profits to beg and plead.  Blah blah blah.  I need your hard earned cash.  Now.

Many visitors know that they will be seen as prey and have the sense that they will be valued mainly for their financial contribution.  I know because sometimes I, myself, have felt like a predator, wanting desperately to be liked, begging for people to come again.  And then making newcomers do the work other congregants burnt themselves out on.

It’s the way many churches work.

I want us to do something different.  Before getting on this treadwheel, let me offer a new way of thinking about what we are about to do.

I believe that if the only thing the church cares about is its own institutional survival, then just let it die.  In fact, let’s kill it.  People don’t need clergy as personal chaplains.  They should develop better friendships (although I’ll always be a friendly sounding board). They don’t need to fund a building that’s falling apart, when they’ve got more pressing needs of their own.    People are not here to serve the church.  Visitors don’t exist for the sake of the church’s survival.

As long as the institutional church thinks of the outside community as potential recruits into their cult, it will either become a cult that revolves around a charismatic personality, or die.

What we need is a completely different model.

A few people, of course, are skeptical.  In the old days, the priest was the caregiver.  The congregation got served.  The priest becomes the one who is responsible for explaining the faith, making the rules, and calling the shots.  I do long for those days, but people don’t buy it much anymore.  Nor should they.

In a new model, the role of the priest is to communicate the gospel, help people collaborate to live out their ministry, and create entrepreneurial programs that build the community.

In the new model, the church exists for the sake of building up other people –  that is what Jesus Christ did.  Not just Episcopalians.  Not just Christians or Catholics.  But everyone who needs support.  Skeptics and Jews and Muslims.

Just not Methodists.  And Red Sox fans.  I draw the line there.

Just kidding aobut that, actually.  Of course Methodists. Shintoists, however, must go to the outer darkness.  Although I have nothing but respect for those who practice the cult of Amaterasu Omikami.

I digress.

The shift means that we live into the idea of the priesthood of all believers.  Instead of being priest centered – or even church centered – each one of us has the responsibility of encouraging, challenging and participating in our communities.  In this time of chaos and distress, we are called to get out and gather the people.   Every individual in the parish has a calling, a purpose, a potentiality that they can live out and share.

We may have to think hard about how we connect with people.  Do we even know our neighbors?   Can we discover their passions, their needs, their hopes and fears, their motivations?  Then, when we gather, we can share these hopes and find ways to advocate and enact them.

These friends and connections may never darken our door.  But we would be there.

This requires a long term view.  It’s hard to change our perspective because churches see their leaking roofs, their heating bills, wondering how they are going to be fixed, frustrated that our kids don’t value the faith that we have.   Perhaps we should ask them about what they need.

I think we’ve been telling people what we need so often we’ve simply forgotten how to listen.  In many churches we’ve told them who they should be, what they should do, and what they should do better.   Some people want those churches and need them badly.  They’ll find them.  But it’s not how mainline churches will survive.

Our call, however, may simply be – at this time – to listen carefully to what the culture is saying, and where it is hearing the gospel.  For the gospel isn’t just holed up in church.  It’s in the movies, the music, on the internet.  In people’s lives.

Maybe once we have heard, we’ll become the gathering that was intended for us all along.

What Obama can teach the Churches

Over the last two years, we’ve witnessed the rising of one of the most important social-political organizations since the Christian coalition became the effective foot soldiers for the Republican party: Obama’s political campaign.

The campaign should be of immense interest to mainline denominations. Not because Obama shares our political beliefs, which he may not; not because he is a Christian in a mainline church; but because the methods of community organizing hold the key for the rebirth of mainline churches.

Why did Obama campaign work? It had a clear mission. People met people: they knocked on doors; they invited; they began conversations. They told people about the Obama campaign and what it means for their communities.  Community organizing 101 is another name for evangelism, and it is what progressive churches should be doing.

It requires training. It’s hard for shy Episcopalians to meet people and get to know them. Being forward in a ingratiating and commercial way seems false and deceptive.  Becoming more public may ruffle the feathers of the reserved.  Lots of people think that religion should be private, and that public religion borders on the religulous.

But in an organization that truly cares, these concerns can be directly confronted, challenged and mitigated. Our goal is not the verbal assent to a particular proposition about Jesus or an agreement that affirms identical thought.   We do not even presume our thoughts and ideas were as pure and holy as God’s.  Instead, we merely connect with people to build bridges of trust, thereby embodying the trust that God has in us.  We say, that the church is here for them, the unchurched.

Some call them sinners.

Organizing, getting out in the field, greeting and meeting people, might raise the fears of the unchurched and non-religious.   They might worry that I’m encouraging mainline churches to proselytize like Jehovah’s witnesses or the Mormons.   They might be anxious that we will become just a mirror image of fundamentalist churches, inviting people into our peculiar cult.

The first step for us, however, is to let go of the idea that church is necessary.  We should admit that nobody is interested in church. They don’t want to go, and they won’t.  They have pressing problems in their own lives, and for many, church is experienced as parasitical, hypocritical and greedy.

For this reason, let’s not ask them to church.  It isn’t where they are.  And we’d save ourselves a lot of agony if we didn’t pretend it would be easy for us to convince them.  So let’s not do it.  Besides, if we did it for that reason, it would be more out of selfishness than for their own needs.  So when we meet people, let’s eliminate the pressure we have for feeling like we have to drag someone into church who really just has better things to do on a Sunday Morning.  It isn’t necessary.

Instead of asking people if they are saved, or have a church community, our mission is to find out where God is already leading them.  We might not even refer to the word “God.” It’s more important to discern what people are looking for so that we can better serve them, out there, the places where God is also working.

There may be a few people who decide we’re doing the right thing. A few might decide they want to be part of our meaning making institution.  Some might decide they are called to follow Christ and share the gospel.  But there aren’t any guarantees. All we can set out to do is discover our connectedness and mutual interests.  Community organizing is much more about having the church engage the community rather than shape the community for the church’s needs.  Let us be prepared when the subject of “God” or conversations about meaning come up.  Our first role is merely to make a connection.

Because God is also working outside the church to build people up.

The church has an opportunity. Just as people are deeply dissatisfied with the administration of George Bush, there is also a deep dissatisfaction with religion. People think of Christians as homophobic, judgmental, political, and naïve. As Barna has demonstrated, most people think Christians are jerks who want to people to think like they do.

We’ve seen that the idea that knowing Christ makes one a more beautiful, a more loving, a attractive sort of person is not always true.  So instead, perhaps it is time to learn from people outside our churches what a true Christianity could really look like.  Because I suspect they have promising dreams of what Heaven is.

This requires expanding our connections. We’re not good at this. I asked people in my parish how many new friends they had over the last year, the number was small: any new friends they made, they made through the church. Perhaps people in our smaller, struggling churches just don’t make friends in the community, and it’s not worth it to them to invite their friends to their church community. We should ask why.

This will not be easy. The initial challenge for us is to ask: are the stakes high for our churches? Do we have a mission that we care about? Can we describe this concretely, and with passion, comprehensibly?

Many churches have decided that their properties and their liturgy are more important than connecting to the people around them. They have spent their energy mainly on maintaining the old order rather than on offering a vision of the world that is inspiring. These churches are going to find the waters rough in the near future. For example, one priest once challenged his congregation: “Would you die for your grandchildren?” And of course, they all said yes. “Would you change your music for your grandchildren?” The response? Silence. The message: we’d rather be dead than listen to their music.   I have heard plenty of parishioners praise the joys of a small church, uninterested in the high quality of ministry that larger churches often offer.  The consequence:  churches that will remain small and die.

A change in practice will also require a new description of the priest’s role. Priests can’t be caretakers or therapists in relationship building organizations. They will set goals and hold people accountable for visiting. They will be less concerned about the building and more concerned about strengthening relationships within small groups. They identify leaders and call them to share the vision, and the mission, of their church. From these conversations, a priest may learn what role a church can actively play in a community. Priests will also and train parishioners to do the same: meet neighbors, have conversations, and identify ways to connect with the community.  And they will have to be evaluated and held accountable for their work.  No more easy sinecures.

Most important, we can build if we in the church believe what we say. I wonder if the angry conservative wing of the church have the mainline church pegged: we don’t really believe. Do we believe enough that we are making friends with the people around us? Do we believe enough that we think the communities we form are worthwhile? Are clergy sitting in offices, redoing old bulletins, waiting for our retirement, hoping that the few remaining people in our churches will help us buy a little studio when we’re finished? And are our parishioners satisfied that they have their own personal chaplain who will cater to their need to be valuable in a time of crisis?

The churches that will survive are those where the clergy are the sorts who actively train and lead communities into building each other up. It is not merely tinkering with the liturgy and changing the creed; nor is it a matter of simple advertising. It is participating in the lives of people in the community where churches grow. Can they do this? Will they? The past practice has not been encouraging.

The Obama campaign has learned to do this through hard work, strong organization and mutual accountability. The consequence? A black president, an event previously only in the furthest reaches of the popular imagination.

Churches won’t identically replicate Obama’s success. The goal of his election was short term (although surely it hasn’t felt like it); the passions rich; and the mission wasn’t merely about race or religion. There was a deep disenchantment with the current administration, and Obama tapped that.

But who knows what would be on the horizon of a church that sought to know the deepest needs, desires and prayers of the unchurched? It means doing things differently. And perhaps in this election cycle we’ve been shown how.

Perhaps we would begin to learn that people crave the Gospel. And we would learn again how to share it.

What I should have said

M. comes up to me. “Can you believe it? On of my friends said she couldn’t come to St. Barts because we have Buddhists here.”

“That’s too bad. Of course, if she doesn’t want to be here, then I don’t need that kind of worry.”

“I thought maybe I shouldn’t be her friend.”

“No, you can witness to her.”

I wanted to say either:

“They’ve got plenty of churches they can join.” Which isn’t exactly a pro-growth attitude.

But really, if you can’t share the space of your church, which is easy, can you even share the gospel? Jesus only types don’t engage non-Christians very often.