Many changing, struggling, or dying institutions- like the church-cling to a nostalgic view of the past. We remember and long for those halcyon days when our worship services were full of participants, our Sunday school classes full of kids, our staff and leaders full of energy and commitment. Our institutional memory dates between 1965 and 1985, when many small mainline churches experienced the most growth and participation. This is when baby boomers brought their families to church. We forget that it was not always this way. Consider that the first 50 years at Zion, communion was given and receive twice a year. And for the first decade, the average number of communicants was 22 people. The first 3 pastors over the first 20 years never communed more than 51 people. The first two decades, the first three pastors baptized a total of 30 people. They buried 26 people.
Yes, Zions once had a worshiping attendance that exceeded 150 people, in the late 1970s and through the 1980s. But declining worship attendance has been the pattern ever since then. And I want to say, So What? Zion has been many congregations over 130 years. 13 pastors, hundreds of people. We are blessed to have a descendant of a charter member on our current church council. Very few people here have institutional memories that preceed the 1940s. Most of us who remain have memories of that golden age between 1965 and 1985. I was born and raised in a Lutheran congregation during those years. And I'm grateful for it. But those days are long gone. We have to do the next thing, lay the next cornerstone, build the next church for our children and grandchildren.
The church is at its best when it is taking risks, starting new ventures, planting and building something new. Followers of Jesus live on the edge, on the margins, on the outer limit of institutional structures. When we become stagnant managers of institutions, we avoid risk and ignore God's calling on us. There is no call story in the bible that allows for the called person to keep on doing what they've been doing in the comfort of their own lives. Abram and Sarai, Moses, Jonah, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Mary, Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Peter, Paul, Stephen, the disciples, the deacons, the evangelists and pastors---all were called to leave and go; to surrender and follow; to trust and move; to die in the hope of resurrection promises.
In my tenure as pastor, we have explored the edges within the comfortable confines of the congregation. Peter's Porch has allowed us to make contact, to welcome and serve our neighbors---and especially those who struggle with food, housing, health, and financial insecurity. We have been a stable and caring presence for about a decade now, serving breakfast and clothing and food to the guests we welcome here once a month.
Dinner Church has been the furthest we have traveled beyond ourselves. And we have met Jesus in those people we have encountered along the way. I will never forget parking lot baptisms during Peter's Porch or the brave testimonies we have heard from people struggling with addiction, suffering from abuse, searching for an identity, longing to belong. I have seen Jesus gathered around a big table, rich with food, where strangers become family and all the voices are expected to be heard. Those gatherings cannot happen with 50 people. They are extended family size gatherings that are ideally between 20 and 40 people, including children and adults from three or more generations. I have written about and practiced dinner church for four years. I believe in micro-churches; small, relational, mission-focused communities that gather with intention for spiritual connection.
I think large congregations are important. They can offer inspirational worship, lots of resources, a well- trained and gifted staff, and many learning opportunities. But anonymity is rarely transformative and large congregations struggle to build caring, sustaining relationships. They have to work hard to create more intimate experiences for people to get connected to one another. Big churches have to figure out how to create small churches within themselves. This is because the heart and soul of church is a small group of people struggling to follow Jesus, encourage one another, do justice and serve humbly together. Jesus did not recruit 5,000 hungry people. Jesus recruited the 12 disciples. And he sent them to feed those hungry people. Some of them followed and shared and practiced and embodied his teachings. Most ate the bread and went home. I am personally focused on finding followers. And I think more Christian leaders should be. Many people are not interested in large churches. Too structured, too hierarchical, too consumeristic, many people want a more personal and relational community of faith and love. Rather than financially manage and maintain a building, some people will connect to smaller gathering spaces. House churches are emerging as an alternative to larger congregations. We don't have to build new buildings to be the church. But we can't be the church if we don't build new relationships through which people come to encounter Jesus and experience God's powerful grace.
Cornerstones may also be new ideas. A new way of being the people of God. What are we building together? What must be torn down to make way for the next thing God is calling us to do? What if we joined forces with a large congregation (St. Paul Lutheran, Lititz) in order to become the church meeting on the edges? What if we were the ones to start house churches and dinner churches and Peter's Porches in other places? What if we risked the "stability" of weekly Sunday morning worship gatherings, in order to be on mission weekly?
On Sunday, October 13th we will explore and envision our next cornerstone, even as we celebrate our first one.
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