Rabbi Andy Bachman has posted a recent sermon on the "transparent synagogue" on his blog, www.andybachman.com. The post was on October 8. You'll see the link to the left.
I think he and Dan are onto something here. Whether a building acts as a wall or a window depends, not on its architecture, but on the transparency of the community inside. The problem, of course, is not the buildings, and it will not be corrected by constructing big glass foyers. The problem is that the communities inside the buildings have allowed themselves to become opaque.
I plan to do some serious reflecting on this quality of transparency, what it means and how it is to be lived. Any thoughts out there?
Showing posts with label Closed Circles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Closed Circles. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
A Second Wind
I haven't been keeping up as much with this blog, frankly because I began to wonder about the validity of my approach in dealing with affiliates. Was I just sugar coating what amounts to narcissism and lack of commitment? Is there really anything valid about someone's personal sense of "belonging" -- or is that just wishful thinking to try to gloss over the seriousness of the church's predicament?
I've been reading "The Search To Belong: Rethinking Intimacy, Community and Small Groups" by Joseph Myers which has rekindled my interest in affiliates. Myers challenges the belief that intimacy is the goal of all relationships. THis is the assumption that's behind the small group movement -- that ideally 100% of church members ought to be in a small group that shares on an intimate level.
Myers identifies four "spaces" of belonging -- public, social, personal and intimate -- and argues that people can find real connectedness and community on all four levels. It's wrong to try to force people to move to a space that we think is the "right" space to be in. The fact is, that many people's connection to the church will remain at the "public" level -- attending worship (more or less frequently) and taking part in those activities that they find helpful and valuable. We should not assume that unless someone moves through stages to ever deeper commitment and ever greater intimacy that they don't "belong" -- or that the church has "failed."
What the church does is set up two value-laden categories -- "active" and "inactive" -- or, "committed" and "uncommitted," "insider" and "outsider" -- or however you want to label them. We think that the only really valid way of belonging is to be in the inner-most circle. But Myers argues that that does violence to the varied ways in which different people find true community. We try to put everybody in the same box.
This has got me thinking again about Reg Bibby's observation that people we think of as "inactive" or "drop-outs" often have an incredibly resilient and stubborn sense of being part of "their" church -- and if you mess with that, it can blow up in your face.
I think what it comes down to is recognizing that God works in mysterious ways, differently in different people. Who are we to judge that the person who slips into the back pew on a sporadic basis -- or the people who derive great satisfaction out of working at church suppers but avoid prayer groups like the plague -- or the person who watches Robert Schuller on Sunday morning and sends an annual cheque to the church -- who are we to judge that God is not at work in their lives?
That's not to say that we give up on nurturing people or forming them. It's not to say that we don't encourage deeper levels of practice. But, in the words of Alan Roxburgh, the church tends to ask "church questions" rather than "God questions." Our agenda is what will support and perpetuate the church structures familiar to the inner circle, rather than asking "What is God up to in people's lives?" And we ought not to forget that the religious structures of Jesus' day were what actually impeded the work of God in peoples' lives -- and that much of Jesus' ministry was in breaking through those controlling structures.
What I've decided to do is to start rearranging my schedule so I can devote major portions of my time to having coffee with people. Not as an underhanded way of roping them into church activities, but as a way of posing this question -- "Where's God in your life?"
I've been reading "The Search To Belong: Rethinking Intimacy, Community and Small Groups" by Joseph Myers which has rekindled my interest in affiliates. Myers challenges the belief that intimacy is the goal of all relationships. THis is the assumption that's behind the small group movement -- that ideally 100% of church members ought to be in a small group that shares on an intimate level.
Myers identifies four "spaces" of belonging -- public, social, personal and intimate -- and argues that people can find real connectedness and community on all four levels. It's wrong to try to force people to move to a space that we think is the "right" space to be in. The fact is, that many people's connection to the church will remain at the "public" level -- attending worship (more or less frequently) and taking part in those activities that they find helpful and valuable. We should not assume that unless someone moves through stages to ever deeper commitment and ever greater intimacy that they don't "belong" -- or that the church has "failed."
What the church does is set up two value-laden categories -- "active" and "inactive" -- or, "committed" and "uncommitted," "insider" and "outsider" -- or however you want to label them. We think that the only really valid way of belonging is to be in the inner-most circle. But Myers argues that that does violence to the varied ways in which different people find true community. We try to put everybody in the same box.
This has got me thinking again about Reg Bibby's observation that people we think of as "inactive" or "drop-outs" often have an incredibly resilient and stubborn sense of being part of "their" church -- and if you mess with that, it can blow up in your face.
I think what it comes down to is recognizing that God works in mysterious ways, differently in different people. Who are we to judge that the person who slips into the back pew on a sporadic basis -- or the people who derive great satisfaction out of working at church suppers but avoid prayer groups like the plague -- or the person who watches Robert Schuller on Sunday morning and sends an annual cheque to the church -- who are we to judge that God is not at work in their lives?
That's not to say that we give up on nurturing people or forming them. It's not to say that we don't encourage deeper levels of practice. But, in the words of Alan Roxburgh, the church tends to ask "church questions" rather than "God questions." Our agenda is what will support and perpetuate the church structures familiar to the inner circle, rather than asking "What is God up to in people's lives?" And we ought not to forget that the religious structures of Jesus' day were what actually impeded the work of God in peoples' lives -- and that much of Jesus' ministry was in breaking through those controlling structures.
What I've decided to do is to start rearranging my schedule so I can devote major portions of my time to having coffee with people. Not as an underhanded way of roping them into church activities, but as a way of posing this question -- "Where's God in your life?"
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Being there when we're needed
We're at a stage in our life when we have contact with a lot of young adults. They're our kids' friends. And, even though our own kids sometimes think we're a little square, their friends think my wife and I are pretty cool.
One of their friends recently asked if she could talk to me. Some things have happened in her life that have made her open to the possibility that God might be trying to get her attention. She wants to come to church.
I know this happens frequently. Young adults have moments of spiritual crisis or awareness and they need someone to help them shape and direct those experiences. But it's not always easy to know where to tell them they should go. If a young person in another city asks me what's a good church to attend, often I don't know.
I'm glad I have enough confidence in my church and its ministry to encourage this young woman to come here. But it's something I think we need to worry a lot more about than we do. We say we want young adults to come back to church, but we're ill-prepared to receive them when they do -- or to give them the spiritual support and help they're looking for.
One of the young adults who responded to my survey commented that the church needs to be ready when people his age find their way back. I don't think that means launching a lot of gimmicky market-driven programs. I think it means making sure there's enough depth in our own faith, worship and community life that it doesn't feel like a waste-land or a closed club when they arrive.
One of their friends recently asked if she could talk to me. Some things have happened in her life that have made her open to the possibility that God might be trying to get her attention. She wants to come to church.
I know this happens frequently. Young adults have moments of spiritual crisis or awareness and they need someone to help them shape and direct those experiences. But it's not always easy to know where to tell them they should go. If a young person in another city asks me what's a good church to attend, often I don't know.
I'm glad I have enough confidence in my church and its ministry to encourage this young woman to come here. But it's something I think we need to worry a lot more about than we do. We say we want young adults to come back to church, but we're ill-prepared to receive them when they do -- or to give them the spiritual support and help they're looking for.
One of the young adults who responded to my survey commented that the church needs to be ready when people his age find their way back. I don't think that means launching a lot of gimmicky market-driven programs. I think it means making sure there's enough depth in our own faith, worship and community life that it doesn't feel like a waste-land or a closed club when they arrive.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Mixed Messages
The research that I did on 200 church "affiliates" contains some interesting mixed messages.
Most people who completed and returned my survey seem to feel pretty positive about the church. They don't have any big honking "issues" with the church. They aren't mad. They haven't gone away in a huff. Nor have they lost their faith.
For example, when asked to respond to the statement "My church would be there for me if I needed it," 30% strongly agreed and 56% agreed. That's 86%.
Only 16% strongly agreed that "Going to church is an enjoyable experience for me." No surprise, since seven out of ten of them attend church "a few times a year" or less. But, 56% agreed -- and only 4% strongly disagreed. They might not be there very often, but these results suggest that when they are, they kind of like it.
However, 11% strongly agreed and 34% agreed that "Church people tend to be more judgmental than other people."
And 11% strongly agreed, while 52% agreed that "A few people run everything in the church."
The congregational challenge here is to turn vague impressions into concrete experience. How can congregations take advantage of the relative good will on the part of affiliates to build more meaningful relationships. How can we expand the opportunities for people to turn to and benefit from the church's ministry?
A second challenge is to find ways to break down the impression (unfortunately, often accurate) of the church as a "closed circle" with fairly high, invisible walls separating the insiders from the outsiders. This is one area in which core members and leaders really need to follow Bibby's advice and "think affiliate." I remember Kennon Callahan, one of the earlier generation of church consultants, saying in his laconic drawl, "Every church thinks it is a friendly church. That's because the people who think it's a friendly church are the ones who are left." And it's so true. We assume that we are communicating a message of welcome and hospitality when the experience of those on the outside might be entirely different. (I discuss this at length on page 36 of my report.)
This is not an easy or straightforward task and any meaningful response will be very congregation-specific. But I wonder if anyone has comments on how this might happen within a mature and well-entrenched congregational system? An awareness of the dynamics of systems would seem to me to be critical here.
Most people who completed and returned my survey seem to feel pretty positive about the church. They don't have any big honking "issues" with the church. They aren't mad. They haven't gone away in a huff. Nor have they lost their faith.
For example, when asked to respond to the statement "My church would be there for me if I needed it," 30% strongly agreed and 56% agreed. That's 86%.
Only 16% strongly agreed that "Going to church is an enjoyable experience for me." No surprise, since seven out of ten of them attend church "a few times a year" or less. But, 56% agreed -- and only 4% strongly disagreed. They might not be there very often, but these results suggest that when they are, they kind of like it.
However, 11% strongly agreed and 34% agreed that "Church people tend to be more judgmental than other people."
And 11% strongly agreed, while 52% agreed that "A few people run everything in the church."
The congregational challenge here is to turn vague impressions into concrete experience. How can congregations take advantage of the relative good will on the part of affiliates to build more meaningful relationships. How can we expand the opportunities for people to turn to and benefit from the church's ministry?
A second challenge is to find ways to break down the impression (unfortunately, often accurate) of the church as a "closed circle" with fairly high, invisible walls separating the insiders from the outsiders. This is one area in which core members and leaders really need to follow Bibby's advice and "think affiliate." I remember Kennon Callahan, one of the earlier generation of church consultants, saying in his laconic drawl, "Every church thinks it is a friendly church. That's because the people who think it's a friendly church are the ones who are left." And it's so true. We assume that we are communicating a message of welcome and hospitality when the experience of those on the outside might be entirely different. (I discuss this at length on page 36 of my report.)
This is not an easy or straightforward task and any meaningful response will be very congregation-specific. But I wonder if anyone has comments on how this might happen within a mature and well-entrenched congregational system? An awareness of the dynamics of systems would seem to me to be critical here.
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