A Faithful Church is in Business 24/7/365

"When I moved here 12 years ago, I expected that the church would be busy on Sunday mornings.... but there is something happening there every day.... that is not acceptable; it needs to be regulated."(1)

This was spoken at a  meeting of the Village Plan Commission last evening by a member of the community.  My initial reaction was anger.  

• How could someone not know that the work of the a faith based community is non-stop? 
• Where was this person in school when the Anglo settlement  of New England in the 1600's by people fleeing religious regulation was discussed? You remember them -- the Pilgrims, who established a faith based community where the work of faith and life itself were indistinguishable?  
• Was there an extended illness when the 1740's settlement of the  west coast was led by Roman Catholic Missionaries was taught?  You remember that -- the Roman Catholic missions that housed and educated the native population and established all of the oldest communities in California.   
• Surely someone taught about the founding of public education was done by churches who opened their doors to children returning from long hours of labor in factories and mines. 

How did public education fail the person who spoke this complaint?

I understand that someone who does not practice faith might think that Sunday morning is the only time a faith community is active.  Clearly the speaker had an impression of faith communities that did not match my experience. 

• But why would a church need a building if it is  a Sunday-only association?  
• Why not just meet in people's homes?   

Clearly the CHURCH has failed in its 24/7/365 practice of faith. 

I left the meeting with my blood pressure through the roof.  I took the long way home -- walking briskly in the night air five blocks out of my way so I could think and pray about the situation.  

God has a way of turning my reactions into responses if I can just keep my mouth closed long enough. My reactions are usually knee jerk responses in anger or defense; I should never be allowed to speak after 9 p.m. when my brain operates only in the brain stem and my reactions are reptilian .  Responses are the result of trying to understand the other point of view and offering a reasoned, rational reply.  Responses come from the cortex and upper brain anatomy.  I cannot be reasoned or rational if I'm angry. 

Through the cool night air and the brisk stride, God doused the anger with another possibility. In the middle of the second block it struck me that the church this person was talking about is doing faithful ministry -- if they are doing "something everyday," if their ministry is not just on Sunday morning, they are being the Church, the Body of Christ.  If that faith community feeds the hungry, offers drink to the thirsty, welcomes the stranger, clothes the naked, visits the sick and the imprisoned (Matthew 25), they are indeed being the church.  

Celebrate with this community of faith that someone is complaining that they are faithfully following Christ is providing for "one of the least of these who are members of [Christ's} family" [Matthew 25:40).  This IS the work of the church.

If our building is not used 24/7/365, we are not being faithful.  We are not being good stewards of the blessings God has given to us through our predecessors in the faith.  We are going to do better.  We need to fill our empty space with those busy going about the work of providing for the least of these.  We need to find the vision and the energy to commission those among us for ministries.  If the Kingdom is going to come "on earth as it is in heaven," we cannot sit around and wait for it to happen; we are called to use our hearts, minds, bodies, and spirits.  Let us fill the building with God's work!  Let us make busy the doors! Let us be the church to all the world. 


(1) This was the overarching complaint of a number of members of the community who stuck out the entire meeting for the purpose of voicing their concern that an amendment to the village zoning ordinances regarding the definition of "Religious Use" of buildings was removed from the agenda and not discussed.  

To the other concerns, I offer these responses:

Comment:  Churches rent their space to outside businesses and agencies so that they can increase their coffers and make their expenses.
Response:  Churches offer to share our space with agencies who are doing work that tends to "the least of these."  That may include, but is never limited to, young, aged, widowed, addicted, homeless, oppressed, unemployed, under-employed, poor, disabled, sick, naked, hungry, imprisoned or newly released, mentally ill, sinners of all sorts, immigrants and other strangers, and you.  

Sharing space is just that: space is offered so that those who are working toward the fulfillment of the Realm of God (see Matthew 25) can have a safe and secure place to do their work.  If churches make a profit of any kind, they lose their property-tax exempt status and will incur massive expenses; churches offer space at the cost of having that space -- which is far below the market rates.  Churches may recap the cost of the space, but nothing the church can do will ever re-cap the cost of building and upgrading the space; the best that can come of shared space is re-cooping the cost of heat, air conditioning, electricity, and maintenance of the space.  Churches do not make a profit at anything they do.

Comment: Not for profit is tax terminology; it does not relate to the what churches are doing.
Response:  Unlike other entities in our Capitalistic Economy, the goal of the church is NOT to make a profit or to stay "in business."  The mission of the church is to usher in the Realm of God by offering God's extravagant welcome, unbounded hope, abundant grace, and unlimited love to all who will accept it and be transformed by the realization that they are children of God. 

When this  mission is completed, the churches can and should go out of "business;" but it will never be complete in my or your lifetime.  It is ongoing and fueled by hope and the vision of a better world. The difference between the capitalist business (aka a "for profit") and a faith community rests on the benefactor of the activity: For-profits are fueled by the vision of benefit to the owner(s) (monetarily) while not-for-profits have a "benefit the other" driven vision. Not for profits "do it" at a loss -- always because we're not in it for the money; we're in it for the benefit of "the least of these." That's why we depend upon donations. 

A Sewing Machine and Ministry

My mother’s sewing machine was a mainstay of our home when I was growing up.  It was at that machine that many of my clothes were made from hand-me-downs and recycled Goodwill clothing, repairs and patches were administered to well loved wardrobe items, my sisters’ wedding gowns were crafted, several sets of drapes were assembled and later repaired, the sails for my brother’s boat were repaired, and the dress my mother wore to
my wedding was created.  The walnut case – assembled at a factory in the early 1900’s – was a  constant reminder of memories of good times, challenging times, sad times. It was a piece of furniture I received from my brother with great joy.  This I would treasure in my own home; I would use it to create and repair clothing and household items, as well as for my own memory-making. 

But my brother had stored it for 5 years in his basement.  The moisture from that Connecticut River Valley home had caused the walnut veneer to mold, buckle, and peel. The varnish finish was checked from hot summers on Cape Cod.  The machine within this case was still fully functional with a little fine tuning; but the case in which it was housed was in serious danger of being non-useable. Something needed to be done about the case, but I was conflicted about how to proceed.  To re-veneer and refinish the case would decrease its historic value; to do nothing would also diminish its value.  It was not as it used to be and, it seemed, it could never be like that again.  Change had happened and was yet to happen, and there was no course of action that I could take to avoid some type of loss.  Yet the promise – and challenge – of renewal and rebirth engaged me.

The state of the Church, to me, is very much like the status of my mother’s sewing machine.  We are in a time of major transition, and change is not something we do well.  Often when faced with limited choices we find conflict and grief are more comfortable than change.  We know things will never be the same, but we have great difficulty knowing how to proceed into God’s future. 

Ministry happens when the needs of creation, the giftedness of individuals, and the will of God collide.  Ministry is about building trust and strengthening relationships: between individuals, between people and God, between groups, within families and communities.  Ministry is about learning and growing: in our personal and spiritual lives, in our understanding of one another and “the other.”

For most of the last 28 years, my role as a pastor has been to engage, foster, and lead ministry in the settings to which has God called me. My ministry has centered on the needs of congregations and individuals who need healing from conflict, clarity in their mission and purpose, new hope and vision their future, and spiritual and faith renewal. The image of my mother’s sewing machine explains this well.

My wedding band & finger suffered damage in this work.

To restore and renew this treasured item was painful.  As I emptied the drawers, I found spools of thread that matched the colors of many memories: patch-sized pieces of cloth carefully stored to repair long-gone but remembered clothing; bobbins and needle threaders, buttons and snaps, darning needles and crochet hooks; and a shuttle bobbin from the machine that the case previously housed.  Memories flowed as I handled each item to decide what was worth keeping.  But this was just the beginning of the work.

The sewing machine – the heart of the piece, had to be carefully extracted, first by unclasping the leather belt that wound from the wheel to the treadle; then by unscrewing the bolts that held it firmly to the case.  Lifting it carefully, several small metal items fell to the floor; they were straight pins long lost in the midst of a forgotten sewing project.  Each wood screw had to be removed so that the wooden lid, the machine pedestal, and hinged spring could be separated and their veneer layers replaced.  The checked finish on the drawers and lower cabinet needed to be repaired, but was the finish shellac, varnish, or lacquer?  How to proceed depended upon the make up of the cabinet.

Ministry is, for me, a careful study of the history and life of a congregation.  I listen to the memories, hopes and dreams of the church members, and engage the congregation in a time of self study that assesses the strengths and challenges of the congregation and the gifts and abilities of its members.  Together, we carefully examine the layers of history, disclose and address the worn and painful areas, and seek to discern the direction God is calling the congregation.  This is not a painless process; how to proceed depends upon the make up of the congregation and the trust levels of its members. 

Initially, I tried out several approaches to the checked finish of the sewing cabinet, each tried in an inconspicuous place; but the finish did not respond.  I brushed the finish with lacquer thinner and finally the checked finish dissolved just enough to smooth out some of the checked area.  Ultimately, this too did not work in the larger areas, and I had to strip all of the original finish off of the case.  These first attempts were not failures but learnings.

Ministry engages the congregation in learning:  about themselves, about their faith, about their life together, about God’s purpose for them within that particular community.  Not everything works perfectly because we are human and imperfect; but when we view our experiences as a journey of learning, we grow stronger.  The journey into God’s future travels through the valleys of errors, over the mountains of success, and across the flat plains of the ordinary.

On the floor of my garage are ten components that will eventually be reassembled into my mother’s sewing machine case. I am waiting for the right time -- a warm, humid day -- to apply the new veneer with old fashion hide glue.  I have a vision of what the completed project will look like, but need to remind myself to be open to the surprises the wood may yet have in store.  Assembled, it will still be the piece that adorned my childhood home and filled my memories, even though the scratches and finish will be new.  With the Singer machine reattached, it will be put to good use toward the purpose for which it was crafted.  All this will happen in time.

Ministry, too, is a matter of vision and of timing.  For the Church to be renewed, rebuilt, and retooled for this Post-Christian era, we must actively watch and listen for the direction and vision God gives us and put our gifts, abilities, and purpose into the hard work of living into God’s future.

     Just as my mother’s sewing machine will find a new purpose in a new place, so my ministry is being transformed and changed.  For six years I led a congregation through healing (from an abusive pastor) to new vision. I have co-pastored a new church exploration.  I have guided 9 congregations through painful transitions and healing to ready them for the leadership of a called pastor.  I have experienced the transitions in these congregations and then left the new life for another to lead.  I feel strongly that God is calling me to a new challenge in leading beyond the transitions and into the new vision God provides.  In the language of my mother’s sewing machine, I have led God’s people through the remembering, disassembly, testing, and refinishing; I feel called to finish the project, to imagine and form new ministries and new life within a now-healing congregation.