Story Time

This was originally published in a church newsletter in Feb. 2022. (Edited)

I’m going to channel Jesus a little and begin with a story… There once was a small church. They were a faithful congregation. They had a pastor who served them well. He had been at the church for seven years, and he loved it deeply. They had strong lay leadership that cared about discipleship formation. They had a history of being a witness of Christ’s love for their community. But, recently, the church felt like something had changed.  It began when there was an exodus from Sunday worship. In his sixth year with them, the pastor had preached a controversial sermon. He boldly stated from the pulpit he didn’t believe being LGBT was a sin. It had shaken people. Some were upset, and this sermon had been a topic of much conversation during fellowship, in small groups, and around restaurant tables. While some couldn’t fathom leaving over one disagreement with the pastor, others were up in arms. A very vocal minority emerged in the congregation. They decided they wouldn’t go to worship, so long as he remained their pastor. They would worship at a different church, where the pastor had no problem calling homosexuality a sin and “preached the real Bible.”  However, they also wouldn’t pull their membership, and remained active in small groups and on committees. And it seemed, no matter what, this very vocal minority always managed to bring up that sermon.  The pastor was discouraged. He knew that he had made a bold statement from the pulpit, but he was clear that he understood people would feel differently. He thought he had the people’s trust, so he invited people to talk with him. He welcomed and encouraged conversation. He wanted to talk with people. But no one talked with him. And, it seemed, the conflict was spreading to other areas of the church. It wasn’t uncommon to hear whispers of “us vs. them” on any given Sunday morning. The pastor feared that he had taken a step too far with his sermon. He had trusted that Christians would rest in their identity as Christ-followers, above all else. He had trusted that being Christ-centered was the most important thing. But it was starting to feel like his church was most concerned with their political identity.  From some he heard that they were “a conservative, Biblical church” and from others he heard they should be “a progressive church!” He stopped hearing that they wanted to be a Christ-centered church.  The other thing leadership noticed was that the church became very concerned with finances. With the exodus from worship, already tight finances became tighter. The church was transparent about their financial situation. But soon transparency gave way to focus. Committees stopped talking about ministry and only talked about finances. Small group treasurers came into the office to make sure their funds were untouched. “We’re supposed to have $700,” one man told the church secretary, “I want to make sure it’s still there.” The pastor began to notice that those who refused to worship with him on a Sunday would come to financial Q&As and committee meetings. They didn’t care about their worship life, but they did care about church finances. Whenever they could, they told their friends that finances were tight all because of “that pastor.”  If he were gone, their problems would be solved.  Finances soon became another driving factor of the church’s life. Whenever someone wanted to start a new ministry, the first questions was “How are we going to pay for it?” The church’s General Committee used to start their meetings asking about what was new in mission and ministry, but now started with budget reports and discussing the bottom line. The church operated out of a sense of scarcity. They couldn’t do anything new until their financial situation was better. They started centering money more than they centered Christ.  People in the church started to get upset. They weren’t in the church to talk about money and politics, but because they had hearts for Christ and for the world. How could they faithfully be part of a church where Christ was not at the center of their lives together?  Church leadership tried. They led Sunday school, Bible studies, and book studies that centered on strengthening discipleship. Some tried to start new, low-cost, ministries like prayer groups or afternoon teas that would bring people together. The pastor focused on Christ and the Bible in his sermons, preaching trust in God and Christ’s love often.  No matter what they did, nothing helped. The church was lost. They continued to focus on politics and money. The vocal minority continued to both stay away on Sunday mornings and talk about “that man” in their fellowship groups. Eventually, the church lost more people. Some left because the vocal minority had turned their ear enough. Some left to go to healthier congregations. Some left because the church no longer served their needs. Some left because they felt the church no longer served Christ. Sunday attendance dwindled and dwindled. In the pastor’s 12th year with the congregation, the church closed its doors for good.  *** Though I am truly not as good a storyteller as Jesus, I hope you see the point of the story:  A church that loses its focus on Christ is a church that cannot remain.  The church in the story is fictional. Yet, like any good Law and Order: SVU episode, while the story is made up, we may see echoes of reality in it.  There are churches in this world who have lost their way. There are churches that we can walk into and immediately get the sense that they do not center Christ. They center something else: their social life, their political identity, their finances. We know churches like this. We know churches that are Sunday only churches. They worship together for one hour on Sunday mornings, but don’t offer discipleship formation Monday-Saturday. We’ve seen these churches, and we’ve seen these churches close. It is an unfortunate reality.  For this season between Christmas and Lent, I have chosen to preach a sermon series called What are We Fighting For? in my church, following the sermon series with a Lenten book study of the same name. The book study is written by Bishop Thomas J. Bickerton, and was originally published in 2016. Bickerton clearly wrote this book in response to the talks of schism and division in the United Methodist Church. While there are parts of the study that certainly reflect the state of United Methodism in 2016, the overall message is one that is timeless: “Now is the time to refocus our attention on the things that Jesus told us we should be and do. We will never find complete agreement on any issue, but we can find our focus when we discover God’s amazing love for us and the limitless possibilities we have to share that love with others” (p. 138).  The heart and focus of the Church is God’s love, particularly God’s love revealed to us through Christ. That is what matters most. Everything else is inconsequential. Politics, inconsequential. Money, inconsequential. Church size, inconsequential. Number of families and children, inconsequential. The Church is at its best when it is Christ-centered and Love-focused.  It is no secret that there is much facing the American Church in the 21st century. Declining attendance. Wavering finances. Deep political rifts. An understanding that Church is no longer an expectation. And all of this can be really discouraging, and anxiety producing. When we realize the world is shifting and changing around us, and that we, the Church, are being left behind, that can be terrifying. We begin to think of the future. What about our kids and grandkids? Will they know God like we do? Will church be important to them? Will they have faith?  When these questions pop up, it can lead to inconsequential things feeling very consequential. Finances are consequential. The building is consequential. Political identity is consequential. Traditions are consequential. Attendance is consequential. If any of those are off, then our church is doomed! But, as Bickerton reminds us, the truth is none of these things are consequential.  In every church, you should be able to take away finances, buildings, politics, and even traditions and still have church. Because, at the very heart of our life together, is Christ and the love of God revealed through him.  The church in my story lost sight of that heart. They focused on inconsequential things, forgetting first and foremost they are Christ’s. It affected their witness and ministry in the world. And while this is a fictional church, it’s also very real. There are churches in this world that have stopped centering Christ, and have instead chosen to center inconsequential things. There are churches that have forgotten, truly, what matters most. And they are worse off for it.  We should remind ourselves, as often as possible and in as many ways as possible, that Christ is ours and we are Christ’s. We should remind ourselves, as often as possible, that the strongest churches are Christ-centered churches. We should remind ourselves, as often as possible, that Christ’s love is, truly, what matters most.