Chapters 3 and 4 - The New Village Church and Finding Home

First, I apologize for missing a week of this blog. I wasn't feeling well early last week, and with Sharon leaving, kept falling further behind. So, now back to the book. I'm combining chapters 3 and 4 for this post.

Chapter 3 begins with a powerful observation. She describes what has been true of many mainline congregations that have found themselves in decline: "their political practices of charity and social concern were basically secular," not really different from the United Way or the Rotary Club. "These mainline congregations, while they did many worthy things, paid little or no attention to people's spiritual lives. They simply assumed that people were Christians, that they knew how to be, think, and pray like Christians." When I started as pastor of Archwood UCC in Cleveland in 1993, I found this to be true and began to explicitly ask why the church was doing what it did. If we didn't have a spiritual "rationale" for the activity, let's not do it. We never stopped doing any of those activities, but we started to think about them differently. For example, when we had a dance, we recognized that we were doing it build community and fellowship - not just dance. Fun is spiritual too, but it also has a deeper resonance. When we had drag shows in the Fellowship Hall, it was to emphasize in the community just how wide our arms were open. When we wondered if such an activity was a little too far out, we embraced that such extravagent hospitality is the point of our congregation. One of the most faithful attendees was a 90 year old widow - who also never missed a dance either, or a weekend retreat.

So, as you can see, I really appreciate the point the author is making. "The primary job of church is to be a spiritual community that forms people in faith." It doesn't mean we stop being liberal social justice activists, but that we embrace our faith as central to the reason we are engaging in such activities. And that we participate in a wide diversity of practices. She describes "walks for the homeless and walking the Labyrinth; living wage and a way of living the Benedictine rule. Attention to inclusive language and deep attentiveness to the Bible. Social justice and spirituality joined in an open community of practice." That was part of the point I hoped to make with our "Jesus Has Left the Building" Sunday - to see that feeding the hungry, visiting the lonely, and sharing the good news of God's inclusive love, were in fact ways of worshipping. To physically do such things while we are supposed to be "doing" worship helps to reorient head and heart towards one another - and hopefully deepens practice.

I further appreciated her descriptive choices of "Tradition, not Traditionalism;" "Practice, not Purity;" and "Wisdom, not Certainty." I think most of us would agree with these, but it would be good to talk more explicitly about what that might mean at Park Hill. Wisdom as "Knowing God" might be the one that we need to engage more - more than intellectual integrity. We can't push mystery away if what we are seeking is greater spiritual depth. The intellect, of such tremendous value here, will leave us dry if not married to an embrace of the "unknowing."

In Chapter 4, the author introduces us more to the churches she has chosen to profile and why. Having already chosen to emphasize the phrase "Welcome Home!" in our church growth work here, I appreciated the imagery of people returning home in this chapter. The growth of my congregation in Cleveland was all about people looking for and finding a home - most often where they didn't expect to find it. When they first came to worship, former Catholics found the service a little too unpredictable - lacking the richness of rituals - while former Baptists and Pentecostals found the service too predictable - with too many rituals. Our challenge was to help one another embrace new expressions of their faith. And eventually, those who opted to try, found depth and meaning in more regular communion and more spontaneous expressions of prayer. The traditions of Advent and Lent were completely foreign to many, and while initially wary, they discovered them to be ways to ground their lives in some cycle that was reassuring - a use of ancient tradition in the midst of a chaotic life. So anyway, finding home is a strong spiritual metaphor for me and I've found it incredibly powerful for those who have been searching for so many years to find a place that wouldn't throw them out, as many had been.

I am still intrigued about "The WAY" that Phinney Ridge Lutheran Church developed to help people begin to grow in their faith. My inquiry to them from a month ago was never answered. It still strikes me as something we might eventually consider here, given that our traditions and beliefs are not always orthodox Christianity. It is then even more imperative to explain what we mean and why so others who are new can feel less like strangers in a strange land. Just learning the language is challenging at times. Imagine if you entered our church without any Christian background - which is true for a majority of young people today. In the future the chruch will have to be much more intentional if we will relate at all with those being raised today. Many in my generation grew up in the church and so we have something to return to. Many younger people have nothing of the sort. And yet so many others are coming from traditions unlike our own and are seeking a depth we may or may not be prepared to offer.

Any thoughts?
David