There are many different dimensions to the life of a shrinking church, from difficult budgeting decisions to dealing with property that stubbornly refuses to shrink alongside the congregation to a sense of bewilderment around how the shrinking started and why, and when it will stop and move in the other direction. At Old South, a small congregation with two buildings, we’ve spent a great deal of time contemplating various hard choices, ending up with the heartbreaking decision to put the sanctuary building up for sale. It’s been a painful few years, although it’s been a positive thing that the congregation has maintained a commitment to being a congregation for as long as it possibly can.

As we continue to move into our next new reality, another significant issue is dealing with those aspects of congregational life that have, in the past, belonged to church members, when there are no longer any church members who wish take on such tasks. At Old South, there are some tasks that end up belonging to a single individual and when, after some time (in one case, decades) that individual expresses the desire to give up the assignment, there is simply no one else who can be identified as an adequate replacement. Old South’s treasurer, for instance, has expressed on many occasions a desire not to be the treasurer, but only recently has allowed that it might be time to pay somebody to do that work. We do not have anyone else in the community who has the necessary skills. We also have a committee chair who ends her reports to the governing board with the simple statement “I would like to be relieved of my duties.“ Unfortunately, no one is eager to take on the work.

The Vineyard is full of tasks to be done, but the laborers are few and they are getting weary and tired.

I have, in the past, pointed out the many biblical stories of older people being called to do amazing things.  But, I hesitate to speak such words these days.  The next amazing thing might be for the members of Old South to beat their pastor senseless.

For so many of the active members of Old South, growing up in the midst of the “glory days” of the 1950s and 60s (personally, I don’t think they were nearly as glorious as they are remembered to be; I’ve written on this topic in other posts, so I won’t here), when committee lists were long and well-populated (and there were boards and committees of such prestige within the community, that it was a big deal to be asked to serve), it’s a hard, hard thing, to find themselves in this place.  They are committed to keeping the church going, as a vital place for their life of faith and also their perceptions of the church as witness to and for the wider community.  But, the work involved is getting to be a big problem, especially for those who hold a strong congregational identity, not only pointing to the significance of the gathered community, but appreciating that an active laity is a foundational component of what a church is.

In the midst of the weariness, there are some who cling to a strange sort of denial: eventually, someone will come along to offer relief and respite. Only that doesn’t happen very often. Every year, we lose more people (moving away, fully or partly, or passing away) than we gain.

The next big discernment project for the congregation will very likely entail a re-visioning of what it means to be a “congregational” church, allowing some critical tasks to be done by paid professionals (paying the bills must be done, after all) and staff, while also exploring new opportunities for faithful witness. We are already seeing a renewed interest in connecting more meaningfully with the wider community, especially around social justice issues.

Will the congregation be able to embrace its weariness, recognizing that it is not an all-encompassing state of being, but instead a vestige of what used to be, but is no longer, letting go of certain components of a traditional “congregational church,” altogether or by shifting some tasks to paid professionals and paid staff? And, through that embrace, discover new dimensions of the life of faith?

I remain hopeful, mostly.