Depending on the context, it can be a controversial topic: the alteration of the typical line-up of boards and committees for the average congregationally-inclined local congregation. For those churches whose identities are deeply tied to the active participation of those who comprise the congregation (by regular worship attendance and/or by joining through an official ritual of some kind), it can be a tricky thing to talk about substantial change, especially if the number of boards and committees is set to be cut significantly and still more, if the proposal includes the re-labeling of beloved posts/positions.

One of the most important considerations when a congregation is looking to redefine and “right-size” its governance structure is to take stock of the culture of the church— How have the boards/committees functioned? Are there clear expectations for some, or all, of the boards and committees? Are there some boards/committees that garner more respect than others? Are some boards/committees harder to fill than others? Is so, why?

When Old South went through the process to change its governance structure (a decade ago), we had a variety of issues to ponder. Our diminishing worshiping community was only one consideration on the list. The culture of the church, in terms of how the boards and committees functioned, was a critical issue. For instance, a couple of the boards/committees were so clearly defined that we had people who considered themselves drawn to only one and not any others. We had some people who had served for years on the Board of Trustees, but never on the Board of Deacons, and vice versa, and would never even remotely consider giving a different group a try. And, hardly anyone was enthusiastic about attending the monthly gathering of the chairs of the various boards/committees.

In order to help people perceive service to the church in a different way, we pushed aside the normal list of labels, including deacon (and the Board of Deacons). Eliminating the “deacon” role was difficult, as the word appears in the New Testament in a number of places and churches, like Old South, generally like to feel a sense of connection to the ancient church, even if it’s just a small one. For Old South, the word “deacon” had become problematic. There were certain “jobs” that belonged so completely to the deacons that somehow one had to be a deacon in order to do any of those assignments, like turn on the lights and sound system on Sunday mornings, greet people at the door as they arrived for worship, help to set up and serve communion on communion Sundays. It didn’t feel like any of those tasks demanded that someone be a member of what amounted to a special club in order to perform them. Plus, we had a few people who drove a bit of a distance to attend worship regularly. Some of those people were eager to get involved, especially with the Board of Deacons, but they didn’t want to be forced to drive a half hour (each way) to attend a monthly meeting just so they could turn on lights, greet people at the door, or serve communion.

It was a big step to eliminate the Board of Deacons, along with the other boards and committees, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as I thought it would be. Once I shared my thinking, it was interesting to see that people could understand what I saw as the issues. Through that process, we could begin to envision, together, something new.

We now have one governance group (called the Oversight Committee, along with a couple of ministry teams) and a welcoming of all into participation in our worshiping life. We have an open sign up process, online and on a piece of paper that is posted in the church vestry. On that sign up, there are slots for: greeter (in person and online), psalm reader, call to worship/invocation leader, worship assistant (the one who turns the lights and sound system on, and then off at the end of worship, makes sure the doors are unlocked, the hymn numbers are posted, etc. and the person who sets up and helps serve communion on communion Sundays), and tech assistant. For special Sundays, there are additional slots and other opportunities.

Most of the time, there’s enough activity around the sign up process that most slots get filled. Occasionally, there are times when we need to provide a little extra encouragement and there are even a few, but rare, times when the administrative assistant needs to get on the phone to fill slots (or leave them empty).

One of the most intriguing, and thrilling, aspects of how we do what we do now is in the process of inviting new people, or encouraging old timers to try something new. A whole culture has now developed around encouragement and assistance.

Earlier this summer, a person who’s been attending Old South for a relatively short period of time, expressed interest in setting up and serving communion. There were several people eager to show her the process. I was able to stay completely out of it. At the end of that worship service, the woman went right to the sign up and signed up for the same slot for the following month. After the next month, she went up to the sign up to fill in that slot once again to set up and serve communion. This time, though, that slot was already filled. So, she talked to the person who had signed up and got the other person to take a different slot.

It’s a remarkable experience to see this happen. We don’t need the word “deacon” to understand that there is service, on a variety of levels, going on. I remember way back when I was in confirmation class (probably around the age of fifteen), the pastor came to a class to teach us about the sacraments, to help us understand that, especially through the sacrament of communion, we actively practice our faith– ministering to each other, allowing others to minister to us, treating each other as we wish to be treated, welcoming the friend and the stranger, creating and observing space for an experience of the sacred, etc. That’s what’s happening at Old South. It’s not that this approach to communion was missing when we had a Board of Deacons, but that the practice of the church had become so rigid as to interfere with that space that actively appreciates the presence of the Divine.

In the decade since we substantially altered our governance structure, no one has asked that we return to the old way, to how we “used to do things.” We may be smaller in number, but we have actually grown when it comes to being better attuned to the movement of the Spirit in our midst. As a community of faith, we are more aware of what it means to be a living community of faith now and in these days, rather than a tribute to what was done in the past.