Church 4 $ale

Once upon a time, a group of friends got together in a living room to pray, to sing, and to have a meal together. Their community was contagious. Others began to join them until the living room was packed to discomfort each time they gathered. Eventually, the friends realized they needed to rent a more public space for their gatherings.

It was a Big Adventure with Jesus as they inhabit the auditorium, 3 classrooms and a hallway (for the nursery) at the local junior high school. The congregation continues to grow, and they hire a pastor, then a combo worship leader/youth pastor. Setting up and tearing down each week is alternately a hassle and a point of shared-experience bonding for the group, but the consensus grows among them that their lack of a regular meeting place communicates impermanence to some potential members. A building fund is established, and before too long, the congregation buys a chunk of suburban farmland. They continue to meet at the junior high each week.

A few more years pass and the building fund ripens sufficiently to move on to Phase II. The leadership team - because the church now has a leadership team - hires a consultant to help them navigate the building phase of the project. There are meetings, a banquet, and a couple of sermon series featuring thinly-veiled requests for money disguised as messages about stewardship and mission, along with a lot of talk about faith committments and pledges. Though building projects can divide a church, the congregation navigated the process with a great deal of committment and camaraderie.

At last, the goal is met! The building is built! A beautiful, shiny specimen of a modern building, sparkling along a suburban highway. Big, bright Kidzone. Spacious sanctuary with state-of-the-art sound and lighting. Sprawling parking lot, bookended by a couple of basketball hoops for the FourNinetyEight Youth Group to use after their midweek meetings. Within a year, the congregation has doubled in size, populated with young families from the surrounding `burbs.

There were plenty of growing pains, of course. But mostly the church was adding to its membership rolls. After all, this church was the place to be! There was always something exciting happening there! There were small groups meeting in homes, of course, but everyone knew that the real ministry seemed to happen most freqently at one of the many events at the building.

No one knew it then, but these days were the apex of the building's life span. A power struggle disguised as a doctrinal debate caused an associate pastor to leave, and within a few months, about 20 percent of the congregation goes with him. (They began meeting in someone's living room, dreaming about a new kind of church they'd plant together that would remedy the issues with the one they'd just left.) Then there was an affair between a couple of high-visibility members that led to a messy, gossip-fueling divorce. The leadership team became increasingly focused on managing the in-house crises and dramas of the congregation.

Attendance numbers plateaued, then begin to trend downward. The church trims its missions program. Quietly lays off some staffers. More people leave. They're hovering near the same number of people they had when they moved into the building, though at least 50% of the present group wasn't part of the congregation at the time.

And then the bottom dropped out of the stock market. Housing values nose-dive. Key givers lose their jobs. The church isn't able to pay its bills. The pastor hits the congregation with messages about sacrificial giving and what it means to be a part of this church that leave a sour taste in many congregant's souls...and pocketbooks. Giving continues to contract. A few more families leave quietly.

Finally, they're no longer able to pay the mortgage. The pastor begins substitute teaching at the junior high where the congregation used to rent space. The church is headed into foreclosure.

Wait. That's not quite right. The church building is headed into foreclosure. The church's shiny container, Kidzone and all, is about to be turned over to the bank. The congregation, those who are left, grieve their lost building...and their lost relationships...and began to remember that God didn't call them to inhabit a building, but be His body.

Happily ever after? Not yet. But in this loss, I am hopeful that clarity and joy are possible for this bride-in-the-making.

* * * * * * *

I am hearing stories of churches facing foreclosure on their buildings during these painful days of economic contraction and pruning. Though it would be easy to read these sad real estate events as a form of loss for the kingdom, I am not so sure that's always the case.

Agree? Disagree? Why?

Which kind(s) of skeptic are you?

A couple of years ago, I was contracted to write a book which would be a part of a series targeted at skeptics. My subject matter was the church; the book's title is The Church For Skeptics: A Conversation For Thinking People. The publishing biz is going through the same painful contractions the rest of the economy is experiencing. As a result, this book has had quite a journey on its way to being born.

The wait continues as the book's story has taken a new, promising turn in recent weeks.

The book is not an apologetic (or worse, a diatribe) for the church. It affirms questions and struggle, because the truth is that all of us are skeptics of one stripe or another. Below is a brief excerpt from the book's introduction that explains what I mean:

There are lots of us who are skeptical about the church, for lots of different reasons. Some of us have huge questions about the odd, toxic habits practiced by the churches to which we’ve belonged, attended or have seen in the media. Others among us need to investigate some things…or everything. We doubt. We have questions, and some of those questions may not have comfortable answers. Or easy ones. When it comes to the subject of the church, there are several main categories of skeptics:

• The “You’re not from `round these parts, cowboy” skeptic

At first glance, skepticism among the hard-core faithful – the people who seem to be at church every time the doors are open – would seem to be an oxymoron. But if you look a little closer, you’ll discover that some in this tribe nurture deep mistrust that is a perfect breeding ground for skeptic’s questions. They aim their rhetorical guns at those outside of the Christian faith as well as those from neighboring Christian faith communities who are…choose as many answers as apply) …more liberal than us …more conservative than us …don’t look like us …worship differently than us …aren’t us

• The burn unit skeptic

There are people who are skeptics because they’ve had their trust damaged or destroyed by someone (or a posse of someones) who has represented the church while engaging in slander, gossip, erroneous teaching, financial misconduct, hypocrisy, legalism, or through emotional, sexual or spiritual abuse. These skeptics ask questions like “How do they get away with it?” and “What’s the point of an institution that causes so much pain?”

• The Pepto Bismol skeptic

Some of us are skeptics because we have ingested a regular diet of bad news and worse images about the church from media and popular culture. The scandals, the criminal behavior, the tacky televangelists, the militant involvement in public politics and morality alike have left a lot of us with permanent indigestion. We have little interest in sampling anything the church offers from its all-you-can-eat toxic buffet. Pepto Bismol skeptics say things like “The church is a huge joke” or “Religious people are sleazebags, chuckleheads or nut cases.”

• The debate team skeptic

Unlike those whose skepticism toward the church has been formed primarily by negative media images, there are also thoughtful people who have spent time researching…and perhaps even once believing…Christianity’s claims. Their scientific, philosophical, archaeological and/or historical investigations have led them to the conclusion that the faith (and, perhaps, any faith) is devoid of truth or value. These skeptics ask, maybe with an indifferent shrug of their shoulders, maybe with open hostility in their eyes, why anyone would even bother with the church when all it does is perpetuate a Giant Lie. Though there’s a small percentage of skeptics who are rabidly committed to their own cynicism, most of us simply want to engage in some thoughtful conversation about our doubts, questions and observations about the church. We don’t want to be sold…or told. We want to be able to ask our questions without being judged because we’ve dared to ask them. We want our experiences and observations affirmed. We want to be respected. We absolutely don’t want to get fooled…again or ever. (All rights reserved, Michelle Van Loon)

Do these categories resonate with you? What would you add or change?

Wall fall down

Though I'm fighting a serious case of respiratory illness, I wanted to share one of the most profound images of our recent trip to Israel. Just a few hours after we landed in Israel, Bill and I had made our way to the Western Wall, the holiest site in Judaism. We separated, as men and women have separate areas in which they're asked to come to the wall, and spent time in prayer and lots of observation. Orthodox Jews predominated the crowds, but there were a number of other gapers and seekers sprinkled amongst them. (Us, perhaps, included in that group.) We tucked our own written prayer requests between the cracks of the ancient stones as so many have before us, and left after snapping a few pictures. It was a pretty standard visit.

We then paid 30 shekels each to visit the Ophel Archaeological Park, to the south and west of the Wall. As we explored the ancient ruins, we rounded a corner and saw the pile of stones in the picture above. The giant stones are a remnant of the rage and destruction that came in 70 A.D. when the Romans destroyed Herod's temple. This is the true wailing wall - a sight of sorrow, even nearly 2,000 years after it happened and of fulfilled prophecy from a generation earlier:

^"Jesus left the temple and was walking away when his disciples came up to him to call his attention to its buildings. 'Do you see all these things?' he asked. 'I tell you the truth, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.'" - Matthew 24:1-2

(Keep reading in Matthew 24 to remind yourself of what else Jesus had to say about what would and will follow the destruction of the temple.)

Perhaps because this site was so stark, so unexpected, it nearly took my breath away. There were no praying pilgrims here. The scene was silent and sad and true. It was also a spilled out basket of multi-ton blocks that serves as a promise; CSI evidence that we are indeed at the end of things, and that Jesus' words are true. He is coming back.

Soon.