Tuesday, January 26, 2016

A Look Back: Church Membership

Over the next several weeks, I will be revisiting some of the favorite posts of the past year. Re-enjoy!





Members, Don't Count (For expanded context, see "White Wave Manifesto" in Pages on this blog.)

Why do we count members in church?  It might be that our denominations require it for statistical/financial purposes.  Maybe increasing membership is a feather in our cap. Maybe decreasing membership is a concern in our hearts, but what is the theological reason that we count members?  Are we recognizing a certain group of people that have filled a certain battery of requirements?  And if this is true, if we are counting people who belong to the church, than perhaps we have forgotten to Whom the people actually belong. Hint: He’s the one who filled the requirements!

In ancient days, God divided the Promised Land among the tribes and the tribes divided their allotments among the founding families. Every family had an ancestral acreage.  The ancestral acreage was not only a source of livelihood, it was a constant reminder of the God who not only provided the rain, but provided the land itself. It was held in trust.  The family was a steward of the land.  Families didn’t own what they worked.  It ultimately belonged to God. 

Sometimes, though, there was a crop failure. Sometimes there was a sickness in the family.  Sometimes there was an unexpected mouth to feed and the ancestral land was mortgaged. Sometimes, a family would have to sell the land to pay the taxes or to make ends meet.  They would then hire themselves out as laborers for a different land owner, but only for a certain amount of time.  At the end of a period of fifty years, the land was restored to the original family.  We have heard of this restoration as part of the jubilee year:

You shall count off seven weeks of years, seven times seven years, so that the period of seven weeks of years gives forty-nine years. Then you shall have the trumpet sounded loud; on the tenth day of the seventh month—on the day of atonement—you shall have the trumpet sounded throughout all your land. And you shall hallow the fiftieth year and you shall proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you: you shall return, every one of you, to your property and every one of you to our family. That fiftieth year shall be a jubilee for you; you shall not sow, or reap the aftergrowth, or harvest the unpruned vines. For it is a jubilee; it shall be holy to you: you shall eat only what the field itself produces. In this year of jubilee you shall return, every one of you, to your property. When you make a sale to your neighbor or buy from your neighbor, you shall not cheat each other.  When you buy from your neighbor, you shall pay only for the number or years since the jubilee; the seller shall charge you only for the remaining crop years. (Leviticus 25:8-15)

The buyers of the land knew that at the end of fifty years, the horn would blow and the land would be returned to the original owners.  The sellers knew that their descendants would eventually be restored to the land of promise.  The purchase price, therefore, was based on the time left from the point of sale to the time when the land would be restored to its original owner.  If there were twenty years left until Jubilee, the land would command a higher value than if there were just ten.  If there were forty years remaining, the price would be higher still.   

When the horn blew the prodigals would return home.  The jubilee was a blank slate and a fresh start.  We see why the jubilee was sometimes called the, “year of the Lord’s favor.” Everything was new again. The people returned to their original property.  For Israel, that meant a return to the promise and a reminder of the One who made that promise a reality.  The trumpet blast was a reminder that God always brings his people home: through the call of Abraham and his barren wife Sara, through an extended trek across the ocean floor after hundreds of years of slavery, through the howling wilderness, against great odds and sure defeat, God was faithful.  God is faithful still.

The goal of jubilee was not a commandment to make the people more religious.  The goal was not to make the land more productive.  The goal was to set the people free.  Similarly, the goal of our Christ was not to make good church members.  The goal was, and still is, to delight in “the divine love that swamps both body and soul." (Barbara Brown Taylor, “Sabbath Resistance,” Christian Century (May 31, 2005): 35.) The goal remains for the church to experience communion with a God who delights in us. As a response, we glorify Him by joining the church and offering our praise. The church is not a substitution for a personal relationship and personal ministry, but a launching pad for it.

What if, in the church, we thought of the church membership in the same way the ancients thought of land ownership?  After a period of time, the horn would blow and not only would we let the land lay fallow we would release the servants by deleting the membership roles.  The people would then be free to suspend their membership obligations.  They would be free from serving the church and be reminded that they serve the One who created the church. 

This membership purge would be equally applied to both the newly baptized and the original charters; to those members that are shut-in and to those members that go out; to those members that are contributing financially and to those that aren’t; to those members that are attending worship every week and to those who attend faithfully every Easter and Christmas.  All are cut free.

But we hesitate at the thought of deleting membership rolls knowing that we would be raising judicatory ire.  We hesitate because there would be some in our churches who would balk and squawk at the idea of deleting our roles.  We know that church membership should be less about recruitment and more about deployment but we also know that such action would solicit a rare visit by denominational representatives suddenly concerned about our orthodoxy while protesting the loss of funding based on active membership.  

Furthermore, we are secretly proud of our membership.  “Our numbers are holding steady but our giving is up.”  “We had four people join last week.”  “We have over 6 thousand members.” 

But perhaps for all of our focus on membership, our focus is on the wrong thing.  Is our membership in the church more important than our relationship to Christ? Deleting the membership roles might remind us of the proper role the church plays in our relationship with God. Becoming a non-member does not mean we must be a non-attender.  In fact, there is nothing Biblical commanding us to be members of a church.  Indeed, I know of one church in town that doesn’t keep membership roles.  They never have.  The truth is, we are accountable to God, not the church. 

Membership has nothing to do with keeping our name on a membership list. It isn’t about paying our dues.  It isn't based on biannual church attendance.  So why do we have such a hard time wrapping our minds around the idea of deleting the membership roles?  Could it be that we are more concerned with church maintenance than spiritual maintenance? We need to remember that preservation of the church is not the same thing as preservation of the truth.  So let us blow that horn and delete those dusty and dated membership roles.  It is time for a blank slate and a fresh start.

It is time to announce that our church is deleting its membership roles!

Concomitant with the announcement that membership roles are being deleted, the congregation will need to be reminded that membership in the church was never the goal.  The church might make an announcement that membership roles will not be kept any longer. In some cases, the church will be required by the denomination to keep track of members.  Perhaps a new membership class might be offered for all former members to attend before they are added to the membership roles.

The announcement that the roles are being deleted should be well in advance of the actual act of membership roll deletion.  The interval of time between the announcement and its execution will vary from one community to the next. Along with the announcement, the benefits of such a decision should be disclosed to the congregation.  For instance, with the universal purging of the roles, there would be no more inactive church members on the books just because they went through confirmation thirty years ago or because their parents were members. The process of removal would be uniform for everybody and not based on an annual review of attendance or financial contributions or ancestry.  The ground is level at the foot of the cross.

As a result of this announcement, the church would have the real opportunity to address what church membership really means and who is qualified. Are shut-in’s members?  In what way?  Are college graduates that have moved away members?  What about children or grandchildren that attend occasionally, but don’t give to the ministry of the church?  And what about those that give to the church but don’t attend?   Is there something more to church membership then showing up and shelling out?

Most church membership lists are comprised of both active and inactive members.  The rolls include those that have faithfully attended worship for five decades, and those that haven’t attended church for five years.  There are some previously active members that haven’t attended worship since they had their feelings hurt.  Some active attendees have never participated in a ministry of the church.  Some have served faithfully but have never contributed financially. 

Membership alteration is a prickly subject among parishioners.  Nobody likes to be pricked and it seems that nobody likes to have the membership roles deleted.  Even those members that haven’t been to church in years, or perhaps on only a couple of Sundays every year, are offended if the suggestion is made they be moved to the inactive list…let alone deleted from the roles altogether.  Deleting all the members at the same time removes from the equation any suggestion that favoritism is being employed.

The spiritually mature who do attend and contribute to the church on a weekly basis will understand.

They will understand that there are benefits to deleting the membership roles.  They know that members would be freed from being in bondage to the church and it would free the church from being in bondage to its members.  They can appreciate that being set free from memberships is not akin to being severed from faith but rather remembering the one who set us free. 

When the membership rolls are deleted the necessity in serving the church is removed. We would have a chance to submit fully to the Lord and discern what God would have us do.  Our focus can be re-centered on Christ.   

 Finally, announcing that the membership rolls are going to be deleted would force the congregation to ask, “What are we really counting?” 

Joab reported to the king the number of those who had been recorded; in Israel there were eight hundred thousand soldiers able to draw the sword, and those of Judah were five hundred thousand. But afterward, David was stricken to the heart because he had numbered the people. David said to the Lord, “I have sinned greatly in what I have done. But now, O Lord, I pray you, take away the guilt of your servant; for I have done very foolishly.” (2 Samuel 24:9-10)

Does numbering our members help or hinder our focus on and our faith in Jesus?  In counting our membership, are we acting wisely or foolishly?

We have seen people join the church.  We have seen them stand before God and everybody and promise to be faithful members of the church and drop out of membership just a few months later.  We have had young people go through confirmation, make a proclamation of faith, and then, just a few short years later, we never hear from them again. It is not uncommon for the membership roster—those counted as active members—to be twice current attendance.  Inactive membership, well, forget about it.

Remember how you became a member of the church? Prior to that event, you had an opportunity to study the word of God and in that process, discovered for yourself who Jesus Christ was and what it meant to have a relationship with Him.   After that period of study, you had an opportunity to profess your faith in Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior in front of the whole congregation.  You had not been baptized and at that point you were.  I had been baptized as a baby, but then I had the opportunity to profess my faith as well.  We entered into a covenant and we embraced the promise and promised to be involved in the work of His church. 

One of the first disciples put church membership this way: 

Coming to Him as to a living stone, rejected indeed by men, but chosen by god and precious, you also, as living stones, are being built up a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. (1 Peter 2:4-5)

In those days before Christ, only the priests were allowed to get close to God. Priests were chosen by God to come into his presence making sacrifices before God on behalf of the people.  In the temple ministry, only the priests could enter into Holy of Holies, into the very presence of God and minister on behalf of the masses outside that sacred place. 

In these days after his death and resurrection, we have that same opportunity.  Church membership is not about being served, but serving God.  Not just priests…but an entire priesthood. Church membership is about an official relationship with Christ, now available not just to the priests, but to all.  The membership is a gift we give to the Lord.  It is not a gift that we give to ourselves.  We don’t have any special privileges because we are new members, old members, or charter members. However, in our churches, membership does not always equal relationship.  Instead of membership being a call to service, it is often a call to be served.  “Membership has its benefits.”

Members have votes…and influence.  Members have discounted rates for weddings, free counseling, hospital visits, and funerals.

Fine. But church membership shouldn’t be the pinnacle of our relationship with Christ but rather the result of it.  Still we hesitate. We have been focused on membership for so long that we can’t imagine life without it. We worry and we stew about membership and we try to increase it, at least maintain it. And we panic when it begins to dwindle.  We sometimes surmise that when it increases, God must be pleased with our efforts. 

Certainly there is the risk that the church might lose some members to other churches if the roles are deleted.  But that is okay for the kingdom is bigger than our local congregations.  The sheep are free to follow God wherever God leads.  If we had the courage to delete our membership roles, I believe that the non-churched might be drawn to see this new thing that God is doing.  We don’t have to work harder at increasing our membership roles.  Membership, after all, is God's business:

And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved. (Acts 2:47b)

Congregational Sabbath. Less doing. More being.

Photo from www.sxc.hu #563301

Monday, January 18, 2016

Sabbath: The Dark Side of Sabbath


"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day's own trouble be sufficient for the day." (Matthew 6:34)

I believe that Sabbath, at its root, is the practice of being unproductive.  And being unproductive is a difficult discipline to master for two main reasons: 

      1) We have to believe that there are benefits to being unproductive.
      2) We have to believe that the consequences of being unproductive are worth it.

The first difficulty could actually be described as the "Light Side of Sabbath." After all, there are positive outcomes to taking a break.  For example, when we stop working, we are given the freedom to do something that fills us up.  For some, this non-work-related activity may involve reading a good book or playing a musical instrument.  For my wife, being filled-up means doing something creative; writing or painting or working in the garden. For someone else, the best Sabbath activity is inactivity. There is a reason that ancient Sabbath included an entire 24-hours; an entire sleep cycle is automatically included. In a week where many people get up early and go to bed late, a normal period of sleep sounds like a dream.  There are benefits, we Christians believe, in being unproductive

However, this "Light Side of Sabbath" does come with a cost.  If we are unproductive for a whole day, or for even part of a day, if we take seriously the call to embrace this divine hedonism, we have to let go of all the things that will not get done.  We have to believe that the consequences of our inactivity are worth it.  Jesus put it this way, "Do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself."  In other words, the unfinished bathroom is a small worry in light of rest and clarity of thought. The dust bunnies under the couch don't really matter in light of the thrill of playing with the children. The laundry that has filled the hamper to overflowing will not get washed because we believe that our time with a joyful Creator is more important.  

The logic is easy, the implementation is hard.

At least it was hard for me on Sunday. On Saturday, I didn't get as much done as I wanted to get done. Then, on Sunday, we woke up, we hurried up, and got to church. We stayed for Sunday School, and then we came home.  I was already way behind and the weekend was coming to a close. So, during the preparation of lunch, I recalled numerous projects that are in various stages of completion.  There was this sinking feeling that I just keep getting further behind.  My checkbook beckoned with an irresistible siren's song. The bathroom taunted with its exposed studs and bare plumbing.  But there is also another voice. One that isn't so shrill. One that invites me to let the day's own troubles be sufficient for the day.

It took some doing. I failed several times.  But I finally pulled myself away from the checkbook and embraced the Light Side. I visited with my wife.  I watched an incredible arm-wrestling match between my son and his best friend. I had a good visit with our sons and some of their good friends that they hadn't seen for a while. We talked in front of the fire and reconnected...with one another for sure, but also with God.

The bathroom and treehouse still call.  But they can wait until tomorrow.

Church Stopping. Less Doing. More being.
    

Monday, January 11, 2016

Time Away

The Inn at Glenstrae
Wichita, Kansas

Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, "Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest." (Mark 6:31)

Jesus was speaking to his disciples after a particularly busy season of teaching and ministry, however he could have just as easily spoken these words to my wife today.  She is a minister, a mother, a chicken farmer, a sheetrocker, and a horticulturist...not to mention baker, chef, event planner, and chauffeur.  There are so many people coming and going..and she is always coming and going...that she seldom has a chance to eat.  

So I sent her away.

Well, I am only partially responsible.  You see, I sent her to a bed and breakfast where she had performed a wedding a couple of years ago.  For her services as officiant, she received a one-night stay for two.  The problem has been that there are five of us and the boys aren't quite old enough to be home alone.  So I sent her away, by herself. No children. No laundry. No cooking. No ministry. I understand that it was her work that made the rest possible, but it was my insistence that made her go.  For one night and for one morning, I would be chauffeur, baker, and chicken farmer. I promised that the boys would go to school fed and fully dressed.  I couldn't guarantee brushed teeth or combed hair...but I assured her, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they would be wearing pants when they got on the bus.

The children were nervous.

And, at first, the couple that runs the bed and breakfast didn't understand. "You aren't staying with us?" They were use to romantic retreats.  I told them that this was romantic. What could be more romantic? I told them that this was a retreat for her...time to reconnect with who she is and who God created her to be. No children. No chickens. No trips to the store or to the kitchen.  Not this night. Instead, she listened to some special music, relaxed in a beautiful room, and worked on some projects that filled her up.

Jesus was there. 

And he is is there for us, not begging us to come or demanding us to go, but inviting us away and giving us permission to rest; to leave all those things...those good, good things...behind; to go to a quiet place and eat.

The question for us as individuals and as churches is not whether or not the invitation exists, but whether the faith exists that is required to let go and let our spouse take care of the children and let our Heavenly Father take care of his...and go, to a quiet place, get some rest, and be filled.

Church Stopping. Less doing. More being.


Monday, January 4, 2016

Back to Work

(Sabbath work.)

You may ask, "What will we eat in the seventh year if we do not plant or harvest our crops?"
I will send you such a blessing in the sixth year that the land will yield enough for three years. (Leviticus 25:20-21)

Whosoever loses their life for my sake will find it.
(Matthew 16:25)

It is sometimes difficult to come back to work after Sabbath.  It's even more difficult to come back after a day off.  After a vacation, Monday seems like cruel and unusual punishment.

You might think that I would be ready and roaring to go, refreshed and rejuvenated and full of zeal for the task at hand.  After all, I have probably slept in.  On the other hand, I have also probably stayed up late.  I probably caught up with some things that needed to be done.  The truth be known, I probably have tried to pack more in to that one day, or two, or five than I normally would in a regular day that involves a regular work day. I confess that I often exchange one form of work for another.  In fact, I often need a vacation after my vacation.

We do the same thing in church. We spend four weeks getting ready for Christmas.  And there are special programs. Their is special music.  There are special decorations. All of this happens in addition to the normal, everyday running of the church.  But we hold on and make that final big push to the end and it is glorious! It all comes together on one Silent Night. In fact, it is so glorious that we sometimes have two, or three, or four (!) services on Christmas Eve because we just can't get enough harking.  And just when we thought we could take a breath, we add twelve days of Christmas and slog our way to Epiphany. We celebrate that the light has come but we don't feel very light on our feet.

Just as there is some wisdom in getting out of the house and away from the work and routine of a normal day, there is probably some wisdom in the church getting away from the work and routine of a normal week.  We try to cut back on the non-essentials, but what is non-essential is dependent on who you ask.  Perhaps it is easier to shutter the whole thing for a week, or even two.  "Let the fields lay fallow," we are told. "You'll reap triple the sixth year to make up the difference."  (my paraphrase)

Now, I don't know of any church that has taken a year off; completely shuttered the doors for a cycle around the sun; no ministries; no sermons; no VBS for one whole year.  I like the idea and wonder what would happen if we dared, it just hasn't caught on.  However, I do know of a church in rural Kansas that shut down for the entire month of August prior to installing air conditioning in the sanctuary. It was just too hot.  They got along just fine for decades. Of course, now they have air conditioning and must have services in the summer to pay the utility bill.  And then there was a church in New York City that shut its doors for three weeks every summer.  It was a brave thing to do. Radical. And life-giving. When they reconvened, they shared together what they had learned and where they had worshipped. And they were growing, just not fast enough to keep up with an old building and the cost of upkeep. Eventually, they closed their doors for good.

False Sabbath, in our personal lives and in our churches, merely exchanges one type of work for another. It replaces boredom with exhaustion.  True Sabbath, in our personal lives and in our churches, involves the death of an old way of life but the promise of new one.  There is a false way of living where nothing changes and a true way of life where nothing stays the same.  It is much easier to cling to the status quo, but this year may we all have the courage to embrace what is true.

Church Stopping. Less Doing. More Being.