Sunday was strange. Upon arriving at church, we saw there was a guest pastor teaching that morning. He hailed from Portland, originally from Athens, home for a reunion. After the service there was a meeting downstairs in which we'd have a conversation and he would offer some advice for our own congregation. Soon after he began teaching that morning, we knew this was a meeting we should attend.
He spoke to us from his own experience pastoring an aging congregation in a university town, trying to offer some hope that mainline denominations don't have to "die out" - although blunt, this is literal in the case of our church it seems.
Rather, they can attract students, young adults and young families.
In our church, I would estimate the median age to be about, oh, 60. Looking around the sanctuary each week, B and I stick out quite obviously with our black hair, and people often say to me, "It's so nice to have you here. Thanks for visiting." When I explain that we're actually
members of the church, they are both happily surprised and embarrassed.
The visiting pastor's message quickly transported us into the twilight zone - it was a brief yet on the money description of our generation and what we look for in choosing a church. The congregation absorbed this information so eagerly because it truly was foreign information to them (although it was the most familiar and in ways unsettling to both of us). He explained in the most elementary of terms the following about a so-called contemporary church -
Contemporary churches:
1. do not use hymnals, but project words onto a screen
2. have more movement in the worship - such as hand clapping
3. do not use pipe organs, but incorporate guitars and drum sets into worship
4. have an "enyay" (~) flow to the service - high energy worship followed by teaching, followed by the "rockin postlude" ending music; (rather than a long liturgy of stand up sit down, there is just this simple curve)
5. have a casual dress code
6. use cutting edge multimedia in services
And so on.
(as most of you know, this message could also be called: "T and B's life until now."
For many, this was the first they had ever heard of such a thing. they were shocked. some appalled. all looking to Brandon and I for answers. While at the same time, we were starting to sweat in our seats - this is too close for comfort, for sure. our past was quickly encroaching.
After the service and the discussion, we were surrounded by questions: do you actually
know of churches like this? If so, could you give me some places to visit? (followed by meticulous note taking and fact gathering, probably organized into an outline in true Presbyterian fashion).
When I told them this was the first church in which I had ever used a hymnal, they lit up with glee - indeed, an expert in our midst! When I told them I was not raised in the church but converted of my own accord in my teens, they giggled - they do exist! When they found out we came from the Vineyard movement and that Brandon actually has been trained in small group leadership, the questions mounted and promises of future talks began.
Remember how we left all of this behind in search of a more personally authentic, stripped-down, less emotional-hype experience only a year ago?
It seems to be following me, but in a new way, hopefully a better way.
Surely, if we hope to have the option of attending a so-called "mainline" church in say twenty years, there must be some adaptation to appeal to these changing tastes (no matter how those tastes are associated with my own personal baggage).
The visitor told a story before the meeting adjourned that eased my fears:
When they first implemented this new "contemporary" model at their congregation, a graduate student who had been away for some years returned to find her home church changed, and so it appeared, overrun by the same, old evangelical model she had come to associate with all things corruptible to the church. However, after the "happy clappy hour" (as one of the women in my meeting called it!), the student realized that the theology of the teaching was the same and she found relief.
In this case then, it was possible to blend the two experiences - contemporary style with sound theology - one that avoids the trap of just being "
all Jesus and me" (This was another favorite phrase of mine from the day: the pastor's wife and co-pastor explained that she went through and edited out some of the worship songs that made everything too introspective. I hope you know what I mean - not to diminish the importance of Jesus and me, but not to focus solely on it at the expense of the social gospel).
During the meeting I offered our story, explaining that we left these contemporary, evangelical churches because of their narrow views on social issues. I told them that their churches do not have to disappear, but in fact have an advantage - they offer space for doubts, questioning and discussion. They allow LGBT persons to not only practice their faith in their midst, but serve in leadership! They care about the environment and issues of sustainability and know that peace and justice ministry must be at the center of all faith work. We actually pray for our national and global leadership and against all forms of oppression during service. Surely there are other young people who are restless in conservative contemporary churches who would see the value in this, I thought.
Two worlds are colliding friends, and as the meeting ended, the experienced West Coast co-pastors urged our aging comrades to put Brandon and me at the very center of this collision to offer our unique perspective. Perhaps it will mean congregational mutiny as the aging ladies despise any changes to their routines, now seventy years solid. Perhaps they should hire me as a full-time contemporary church expert to consult them on these matters:) Perhaps this will create the best of both worlds?
