A Church for Starving Artists

Maybe it’s because I’m feeling refreshed (and strong) after a much-needed vacation. Maybe I’ve spent too much time reading painful statistics. Maybe I’ve been inspired by brave Take Charge Citizens standing up for democracy. But I find myself allergic to denial today.

The God’s Honest Truth is that quite a few of our churches will (and should) close in the next year. They will include churches with gorgeous windows, churches with historic cemeteries, hard-to-find churches in quiet neighborhoods, easy-to-find churches on bustling Main Streets and churches that have remained open while real estate developers phone me on a regular basis asking if they could “buy that closed church on the corner.” Most of these church spaces indeed appear to be closed because they can’t afford to mow the grass or the parking lot is always empty (even on Sundays.)

I work with all these congregations and – again, to be honest – they are lovely people who have memories of more vibrant times. Or maybe their congregation has never been vibrant but once upon a time, their church was planted in a “growing community” with the hopes that all the families moving in would join. And they didn’t.

Nobody loves to close a church. And aren’t we Christians an Easter People? Don’t we believe that God can resurrect a church whose building and community are crumbling to bring forth a new and shining Body of Christ? Yes . . . and. Yes we believe in resurrection – both in this life and in the life to come.

And yet resurrection is not Fantasyland.

I consistently work with congregations living utter denial. They believe that – “if only . . . ”

“If only we could call a charismatic young pastor . . . “

“If only we could refurbish our building . . . “

“If only people would bring their children . . .”

then they would be raised from the dead. But this is a fantasy and God doesn’t do fantasy. God does Truth. And here’s the truth:

Your church can’t afford a charismatic young pastor. Your church can’t afford any pastor.

Your building needs hundreds of thousands of dollars in repairs and you don’t even have the money to patch that small hole in the roof.

No one is bringing children to your church – at least if they are looking for a clean nursery, a healthy education ministry, and the congregational capacity to nurture your children.

I would like to spend my first year of retirement on the Amalfi Coast, but that’s not going to happen. I would like to pay for my grandchildren’s college education, but I simply cannot afford to do that. I would like every church in our Presbytery to have a gifted, full-time Pastor who can be paid $100,00 annually (which is about what it takes to live a comfortable life in Charlotte, NC) but most of our congregations can’t afford that and our Presbytery doesn’t have the funds to supplement salaries.

How do we help congregations recognize that they need to close for the sake of the Gospel of Jesus Christ? There is no resurrection without – first – a death. And death is hard.

But death is not the last word. Resurrection – in this life and in the life to come – is the central message of Jesus. So many tell me that their church will close when and only when there is a single person left to turn out the lights. But is that trust in God? Is that what God is telling us to do? Is that the message of Jesus?

Or is that a selfish need to keep a dying church “alive” for the sake of sentimental members?

Here’s my question for the week after Easter: How is your church dead and how is your church alive?

If it’s only alive with a faint heartbeat for a handful of members, wouldn’t it be faithful to close and allow the Spirit to resurrect something new? Are you going to make our Presbytery offer an ultimatum? Are you going to make us the bad guys? (It’s Jesus’ Church, but it’s your decision.)

Christ is risen indeed!

A big part of my ministry involves sharing news that’s hard to hear. Maybe it’s good news that sounds like bad news or maybe it’s just bad news, but it’s all hard to hear:

• It sounds like this isn’t a good time for you to serve on this committee (because you are too busy/sick/overwhelmed.)
• You will have to step away from this position (because of your sexual/financial/bullying misconduct.)
• It’s not healthy for you to continue to serve all these decades (as the volunteer Treasurer/Clerk of Session/Christian Education Chairperson/Director of the Children’s Choir.) I know you love it, but it’s possible that your generous service is keeping the church stuck.

Ouch.

One of the most difficult hard news for people to hear is this: Your congregation has a rich history of caring for each other for a long time. But you’ve reached a point where your church cannot recover from its current situation. Your choices are to either 1) call a part time pastor to help discern next steps, 2) merge or partner with another church, or 3) bring your current ministry to an end.

Denial is the usual response.

• “Maybe we can call a dynamic pastor who can bring in young families.” (My immediate reaction in my head: kill me now.) This will not work because 1) you cannot afford a dynamic pastor and 2) “bring in young families” is code for “new people who will pledge money and assume all committee responsibilities whose children all look like the children who were here 50 years ago.” If young families haven’t joined you in 10+ years, why would they join now?
• “What if we paint the front door red?” This response is more prevalent than you might expect. Also: nobody joins a church because of the color of the front door.
• “We aren’t going anywhere because we still have $80k in assets. We’ll be here until the last person turns off the lights.” That’s a choice. It’s not good stewardship, but it’s a choice.
• Nobody says it out loud, but it’s understood: “We aren’t going to change a thing.” This is a decision to close.

Again, sometimes the worst news can result in the best news. Consider what Jesus said to his followers:

I must go to Jerusalem (where I’m a wanted man.)

I must suffer (at the hands of religious leaders.)

I must be killed (not just die, but be killed.)

And then since those first three statements are rather disturbing, we don’t hear the last one: be raised on the third day.

When Jesus said these words – or a variation of these words – to his disciples they responded this way:

• They were too afraid to respond (Mark 9:32) and somebody changed the subject.
• They refuted Jesus (Matthew 16:22) and it didn’t go well.

Even when a church merges or closes, there is ultimately resurrection in the form of new ministries made possible. Jesus’ legacy was not his crucifixion; it was new life, grace, forgiveness, salvation, healing, a Church that no one could have imagined. Churches hearing the hard news about their situation are understandably upset and grieving, and yet good news is possible. The legacy could be something life-giving if they are faithful.

A big part of my ministry involves sharing hard news. I’m sorry and I’m not sorry. I’ve learned over the years (my 41st ordiversary is tomorrow) that God can use everything – even death – for unexpected good.

Would you sell drugs, cheat on your taxes, steal from your business, or take your children’s college fund? I’m hoping that most of us would not, although desperation makes people do desperate things.

As I ponder what I see in our national and international political world these days, I’m struck by what feels like both a power grab (people assuming powers they don’t have) and a money grab (forfeiting the welfare of the whole for a possible tax cut for some.) Wasting money, I believe, is a sin. But there is tremendous disagreement in the meaning of “waste.”

Is it wasteful . . .

• to offer school lunch programs that benefit needy children?
• to fund Medicaid and CHIP (Children’s Health Insurance Program) that help poor families?
• to reject a 25% tariff on potash from Canada that midwest farmers depend on to fertilize their crops?
• to increase grant funding that supports veterans in need of counseling and other healthcare?

In business, we consider our Return on Investment (ROI), and I’ve heard recently that some of the government programs have been cut over the last three months because there was not a strong ROI. The problem with running the government “like a business” though is not to make more money..

In Church World, leaders are missing the point of ministry if we ask, “What will our congregation get out of this preschool/food bank/affordable housing venture?” If I ever hear anyone say one more time that something was a failure because “we didn’t get any new members out of that” I will probably lose another chunk of time out of my life.

Just as the Church of Jesus Christ doesn’t exist to target people for the sake of getting new members, more pledges, bigger buildings – the government doesn’t exist to make money off of poor people, or gain a profit from The Kennedy Center or make the national postal service lucrative.

Are we okay with hurting people for the sake of our personal investment portfolio? When we agree with the notion of 1) cutting programs for people at the margins or 2) cutting programs that make life more beautiful through the arts and nature to pay for tax cuts to those who already have so much, it feels like Judas betraying Jesus for the sake of 30 stupid pieces of silver.

Postscript One of my favorite Holy Week ideas for when I was a parish pastor: Invite people (tell them before Holy Week) that – on Maundy Thursday – they can offer 30 pieces of silver (quarters, nickels, dollars) to drop into the empty baptismal bowl on their way to receive Holy Communion. The sound of each person’s 30 pieces of silver on the way to the Supper is powerful. The offering is then given to people who have been betrayed in your community: queer young people, immigrants promised asylum, people experiencing domestic violence, etc.

I’m not a huge football fan, but I live relatively near the stadium where the Carolina Panthers play. A couple years ago, I was at a family gathering where people were talking about how the Panthers needed a new quarterback, and in an attempt to participate in the conversation, I said, “Wouldn’t it be cool if they recruited Colin Kaepernick?!” (I was impressed with myself for knowing that Kaepernick was a quarterback.)

You would have thought I had suggested recruiting Satan.

Assorted grumbles ensued, but the one that stood out was, “He’s an agitator” as if that’s the worst possible accusation a person can make. I remember thinking, “So was Jesus,” but it didn’t seem like a good time to say it out loud.

I realize now that reminding people I love that Jesus was lynched for being an agitator is part of my witness as a Christian. Jesus disrupted the status quo – not for the sake of causing unnecessary chaos, and not for drawing attention to himself but – for the sake of the poor and powerless. Examples:

• Jesus associated with “inappropriate people” like the unclean (lepers, a bleeding woman) and traitors (tax collectors) and heretics (Gentiles, Samaritans). This would agitate anyone – even today – who only associate with people who look, speak, live, and worship like we do.
• Jesus said some harsh words about being comfortable with our own lifestyle. 15% of his teachings and 11 out of his 39 parables are about wealth. And this would agitate any of us who – in our heart of hearts – love money and nice things more than we love Jesus.
• Jesus shifted long held understanding of God’s commandments. It was long believed that honoring the Sabbath, for example, wasn’t about refraining from work if that work saved people by healing them or feeding them. But this would agitate anyone who clings to rote rules (“No blue jeans in church”) over wrestling with the deeper meaning of God’s Word.
• Jesus elevated the worth of women in his (and our) culture. He not only included women in his ministry, but – in God’s good plan – it was a woman (or several of them) who were the first evangelists on that first Easter morning. This would be deeply agitating to anyone who believes that God created women not to challenge men or that God forbids women to be leaders in the faith.

The truth is that Jesus was indeed an agitator in terms of showing us what it means to love and serve God. If we are never uncomfortable in hearing God’s Word, if we are never challenged in what we believe, then we have turned our own way of life into an idol.

It’s so much easier for us to focus on practices that keep the peace but damage the mission:

• Maintaining rules that perpetuate the power of long term church members,
• Turning our backs on challenging situations which will require our congregation to address the needs of children with neurodiversity or adults who smell bad or any number of uncomfortable realities of human life from addiction to domestic violence.
• Refusing to hold members accountable when they gossip or lie.

Anyone who takes on beloved but problematic policies or church bullies or challenging realities will be considered agitators and – very likely – will be subsequently punished if not asked to leave. And this is one of a million reasons why the Institutional Church is failing: we do not do what we say we believe. We do not love the unlovable or serve the poorest of the poor. We do not make sacrifices for the vulnerable.

Again, being an agitator is not for the sake of creating personal power or chaos. It’s about challenging the norms that hurt the people Jesus has told us to love and serve in his name. It’s so much easier, though, to keep our mouths shut.

Image is a detail from Christ and Two Merchants by Giotto di Bondone (1303-05) located in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua, Italy. 

This is what it looks like to be partisan: “Vote for Candidate _________.”

This is what it looks like to be political: “I want our nation to __________.”

This is what it looks like to be faithful: “I believe God wants us to __________.”

In a perfect world, all three of these things line up together: We vote for a certain candidate because that candidate will help our nation move in a certain direction that aligns with what I believe God wants us to do.

Yesterday the leaders in our Presbytery made a faithful statement that some will call political. Please remember that the political is also pastoral for people of faith. We will welcome diverse people. We will seek equity for people. We will include people. The Bible tells us so.

I would definitely flunk the pop culture category on Jeopardy.

The image above (with a slight edit) illustrates Rolling Stone’s Top 30 Social Influencers of 2024 and I have never heard of any of these humans. They often influence what to buy or not buy, how to live or how not to live, how to see the world in a new way.

I heard, in Church recently, Jesus referred to as the ultimate influencer. This hadn’t occurred to me before.

Jesus didn’t say much about buying stuff (although he had thoughts on financial priorities.) Jesus did say a lot about how to live and how to see the world.

True confession: I spend a lot of time in my head trying to figure out how people who say they follow Jesus have nothing to say about what’s going on in our country right now if they voted for the current occupant of The White House. This is a spiritual matter to me, not a political one. I would ask the same question if the President was from another party – and I have.

In this situation, though, I’ve come to three conclusions:

• People who are untroubled by what’s going on in our country do not know what’s going on.
• People who are untroubled by what’s going on in our country do not want to know what’s going on.
• People who are untroubled by what’s going on in our country do not believe the news reports about what’s going on.

I shared an image on social media that one of my colleagues – BG – posted first which says: “If you have ever wondered what you’d do during slavery, The Holocaust, or The Civil Rights Movement, you’re doing it right now” and I know that some of the people I love consider that statement self-righteous or naive or mean. But I stand by it.

I know a naturalized citizen who has lost his job (with medical insurance) helping refugees resettle because there are no more refugees coming into the United States. Even those cleared for entry, even those to be welcomed here because they helped Americans at great risk to themselves and their families back in their homeland are no longer welcome. I know several scientists frantically seeking new funding for their cancer research after NIH grants were cut. I have friends who have worked for USAID trying to convey that we – the United States – are causing the deaths of thousands of people either by stopping the deliver of food or medicine.

Are we or are we not influenced by the teaching of Jesus? It doesn’t matter if we vote Republican or Democrat or Green Party or Libertarian or we don’t vote at all. If we call ourselves Christian, it means nothing if we are not influenced by the One who said:

• You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve. (i.e. not money)
• Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. (i.e. the “woke”)
• You cannot serve God and money. (i.e. are we willing to ignore the poor for our own financial gain?)
• I desire mercy, not sacrifice. I came not to call the righteous but sinners. (i.e. beware the self-righteous who show no mercy to vulnerable people)
• Why do you call me “Lord, Lord” and not do what I tell you? (i.e. why we all need to confess every day that we can do better.)

What specifically can we do?

• We can call our members of Congress. If yours are like mine, they’ve stopped answering their phones. But we can leave messages.
• We can speak up when someone openly expresses racism and makes comments based on white supremacy. I live in N.C. A pastor used the N-word in my presence within the last six months. When someone comments that “those people have made bad decisions” ask if they have ever made a bad decision and what did they lose because of it?
• We can financially support organizations that feed the poor, serve the unhoused, assist those without medical insurance.
• We can volunteer our time to those same organizations.
• We can vote out people whose policies privilege only the rich.
• We can take an honest look at ourselves and our own privilege. Who do we know who happens to get their food from a food pantry? What is the first and last name of the poorest person we know and what do we know about them? When was the last time we had a conversation with a Person of Color or an immigrant or a person in the LGBTQ community about what their daily lives are like?

My point is this: how is Jesus influencing our lives? Not everyone who reads this claims to be Christian. But if we do claim Jesus . . .

I once heard Dr. James Forbes preach on the Luke 15 parables: The Parable of the Lost Sheep, The Parable of the Lost Coin, and The Parable of the Prodigal Son. He reminded us which character was God in these parables:

• In the Parable of the Lost Sheep, God’s the shepherd.
• In the Parable of the Prodigal, God’s the father.
• And in the Parable of the Lost Coin, God’s the woman.

“Maybe you don’t believe that women are created in God’s image, or you don’t believe that God calls women to ministry, or you don’t believe that the Bible includes female imagery of God,” Forbes said. “I’m not going to argue about that with you today. You can take that up with Jesus.”

Preachers everywhere are being accused of being “too woke” today when we proclaim God’s Word about caring for the poor, the imprisoned, the stranger, the lonely, the sick. Well – to quote Dr. Forbes – I’m not going to argue about that with you. You can take it up with Jesus.”

“Liberal Preachers” who are criticized for lifting up the blessings of being meek, merciful and peacemaking, can take that up with Jesus. When “liberal preacher” Bishop Mariann Budde asked the President to consider mercy for the vulnerable on January 21st, she faced subsequent death threats. She was quoting Jesus when she preached those words.

Nevertheless, there are some Christian leaders who claim that:

Woke Christianity isn’t Christianity at all. It’s a fake version of Christianity that denies or misuses the Word of God in favor of making sure no one gets their feelings hurt.

Actually the Gospel of Jesus is not about hurt feelings. It’s about the fulfillment of God’s Word:

(Jesus) unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
   because he has anointed me
     to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
   and recovery of sight to the blind,
     to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.’

If we don’t believe that Jesus himself was and is about justice, compassion and mercy for the vulnerable, we can take it up with Jesus.

Image of the pulpit in the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. designed under the direction of British architect W. D. Caroe. This was the pulpit where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. preached his last sermon in a church sanctuary.

The rate of change is determined by the level of trust.

Somebody said that to me last week. (Thanks, if it was from you.) It was a take on Rev. Jennifer Bailey’s quote.

There are several rookie mistakes Pastors – and other leaders – make that will forever sabotage our effectiveness. The first is to try to change things without establishing trust. Show me a Transitional Pastor who decides to shake up how a church does Lent and Easter without first learning what they love about the way they do Lent and Easter and I’ll show you an unnecessary $#@ Storm. Show me a newly Installed Pastor who announces that the congregation will not longer be singing The Doxology during worship and I’ll show you a choir set on blocking every idea the Pastor has moving forward.

Trust is in short-supply these days. Institutions we once trusted have betrayed us. (There was yet another joke about the Catholic Church offered by the Irish Catholic host Conan O’Brien during the Oscars Sunday. Will the Roman Catholic Church ever recover from the sins of their past? Will the Presbyterians?)

How do we engender trust in our families, our communities, our institutions? Be trustworthy.

• Listen to people who haven’t had a voice. (Note: Listening is not waiting for our turn to talk.)
• Read the room. (Notice things like a detective. Or a person with emotional intelligence.)

One of the beautiful things about being a long-term pastor is that – God-willing – we have engendered trust even among communities that occasionally disagree. As Lent begins tomorrow, consider trust-building as a spiritual discipline.

The Rev. Jennifer Bailey is the Founder and Executive Director of the Faith Matters Network.

We are a movie family. We regularly analyze movies together. We stay to watch all the credits.

One of the best things HH and I did as parents was take our kids out of school on opening day of epic movies like Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings and go to the Uptown Theater in D.C. We got in line early to grab our favorite seats: first row, center balcony. The red velvet curtains opened and we were transported.

The Oscars are tonight and we always watch although I’m not sure why. HH and I don’t care much about the fashions. Our favorites don’t always win and we often do not watch every nominated film. I’m fairly certain that some winners prevail because “it’s time” (Anthony Hopkins) or everybody likes them (Tom Hanks.) But it’s fun.

John Lithgow has never won an Oscar (maybe it’s time) but I watched an interview with him this morning and he and Geoffrey Rush were talking about their new movie and movies in general and he said something that sparked an epiphany:

“We’re in the impact business.”

Great movies are those that make an impact. HH and I have watched three Gene Hackman movies since his death (The Conversation, The French Connection, and The Royal Tenebaums) and only one had much of an impact on me. We’d seen The Royal Tenebaums before at least twice and – still – it moved us when we watched it again. We laughed. We cried. We coveted the luggage – like all Wes Anderson movies.

The truth is that every one of us is in the impact business. We were each born to make a difference.

It might be an earth-shaking difference: Margaret Sanger. Or it might be a tiny difference: Jan Edmiston. But this is a calling each of us shares.

A couple years ago, an esteemed pastor challenged me to close ten churches in our Presbytery before I retire. (!) First of all, I am not a bishop. I don’t have the authority to close any church. In fact I find that congregations tend to close themselves after years of making no impact in their communities.

I visited a “small church” today that makes an enormous impact in the recovery community. Perhaps a handful of people gather for worship on Sunday mornings but hundreds have found wholeness through the nightly AA meetings.

I visited another “little church” a few weeks ago with about 25 members, and I learned that they feed a couple hundred people every month. They even have freezers to store chicken to hand out, donated by a local processing plant. And they have a Bible study for developmentally delayed adults with about five adult women each Sunday morning. They are making an earth-shattering difference.

Everyone can make a difference in someone’s life or in the life of their community. It’s predicted that 100,000 churches (of all or no denominations) will close by 2030, according to Mark Elsdon. Those that will close are the ones who forgot that they were in the impact business. They will close after benefitting no one in their neighborhoods. They will have long become rote responsibilities for the handful of members left.

Consider the movies, the groups, the individuals, the animals, the experiences that have made an impact in our lives. And then consider how we are making an impact for one other person or many other people. Even the small impacts can be life-changing.

Image of the Uptown Theatre in Washington, D.C.