Moments of Grace in a Sea of Trouble

Posted on September 30, 2023 by smaxreisert

It’s a hard time to be in the church business. It’s difficult to be a parishioner watching one’s congregation getting smaller and smaller and trying to get one’s head around the overwhelmingly difficult decisions that are looming. It’s difficult to be a pastor, offering pastoral care to those parishioners while also trying to provide leadership, meaningful worship and a bit of cheerleading too. In the midst of the great shifts in the religious landscape in the United States, there are countless local churches struggling to figure out what’s next in the midst of a reality they never imagined (and, for some, a reality that they stridently deny).

As the pastor of a small congregation that’s struggling to figure out how to move forward in these challenging times, there’s a lot on one’s “worry” plate. There’s a lot to do to provide guidance, with a fair number of strange and unexpected bumps along the way. There are the frustrations that come from very understandable places, but they are still frustrations. There’s the grief that is sometimes expressed in straightforward ways, but mostly in not so straightforward ways, adding to the long list of frustrations. And, there’s my own experience and my own feelings of being a pastor in a shrinking church, learning how to be a pastor in a way that wasn’t part of the curriculum when I was at divinity school in the early 1990s. I may very well be the last in a long line of pastors who have served Old South. It’s not just the parishioners who are feeling overwhelmed.

So it is, that moments of grace stand out in starker relief. While these moments may not even out the frustrations, they seem to be making sure that it’s not all about the frustrations and grief. Recently, I’ve noticed several moments of grace that have reminded me of the significance of what we do as we gather as church.

One the most significant moments of grace happened not long after I announced one of my big plans/hopes for the fall: I wanted to record individual members of Old South sharing a little something about what they find special about the church community. I wasn’t looking for long lists or summaries, but short one-to-two minute snippets that I could upload to our webpage. On the Sunday when I announced this grand plan, I saw a lot of not so excited faces. Great, I thought, this big plan might end up never getting off the ground. I felt all of my excitement drain away. After the worship service, a woman who’s a member and attends regularly, approached me and declared that she wanted to go first in sharing what’s special about Old South. She certainly wasn’t the last woman I would have guessed would volunteer, but she wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list. But, there she was, not only delighted at the prospect of sharing something about what she finds special, but excited about taking the first slot. Clearly, a moment of unexpected and wondrous grace.

Another moment took place this week at our weekly Bible study meeting. The group has been on hiatus since June and this week, we held our first meeting of the fall. Three new people attended (doubling the number of people who usually attend) and the discussion was lively, interesting and engaged. And, full of an almost palpable feeling of grace. Old South may be small and shrinking, but there is, at times, a noticeable presence of faith that is strong and resilient.

What moment of grace will make itself known next? I might like to be able to put together a wish list, but I know it doesn’t work that way. Instead, I will endeavor to be on the lookout for those surprising moments that offer not only a glimpse into the blessing of grace, but a welcome refuge in the midst of a difficult time.

Posted in My Life as Pastor | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

The Many Problems of “Why I Left the Church”

Posted on September 15, 2023 by smaxreisert

There’s an episode of Modern Family that involves a scene in a church, although the location really doesn’t matter. Claire, mother of three teens, is listening to her two daughters complain about various issues while they are sitting in a pew. She responds to what they are saying, “You girls are so dramatic. Do I need to call you a wambulance?” Claire’s sassy young niece, Lily, sitting in the next pew pipes up sounding like a ambulance siren with a mocking tone, “Wah wah wah wah.”

I thought of this scene when I read Alexander Lang’s essay “Why I Left the Church.” In the essay, Rev. Lang, now former pastor of a large Presbyterian church in Illinois, shared the details of his decision to not only leave that particular church, but parish ministry in general. The essay outlines a series of problems that had become too much for him, while linking most of those issues to a national trend of the “great resignation” of clergy. [The essay may be found here.]

I should start by saying that there were elements of the essay that I found compelling. I lead a much, much, much smaller congregation, with the accompanying much less stressful role in pastoral ministry, but I could empathize with a few of the issues that he raised. Ministry in a local church can be immensely challenging, from competing and unrealistic expectations to a way too long and complex job description to the low rate of compensation for a whole lot of work and a whole lot of educational preparation. While he doesn’t make this clear line of comparison, many clergy (those who have an Master of Divinity degree) complete the same amount of education as attorneys— and attorneys can expect a much higher average rate of compensation, with a more focused area of expertise.

While there were a few compelling moments, I mostly found the essay infuriating. Being a clergyperson is hard! There’s too much to do! Only half of the church’s members attend worship regularly! I thought people would welcome the changes I suggested! But they didn’t! People who attend church don’t want to be challenged! They have a “fixed mindset” while I have a much better “growth mindset”! How can they not appreciate this?!?

Really, Rev. Lang? I’m assuming that you were a member of a church before you sought ordained ministry. Did you never serve on a church committee or board?

In one section of the essay, Rev. Lang lists all of the skills that many local church pastors are expected to master— CEO, professional speaker, fundraiser, counselor, etc. And then he goes on to bemoan the low rate of compensation that accompanies these expectations/demands. He sums up the paragraph in this way: “And yet, pastors are expected to do all of these things and do them well for $55,000 a year.” As if that’s what his compensation has been! Are you not aware, Rev. Lang, that your church’s annual report, with the church budget outlining exactly how much you were compensated as recently as 2022, can easily be found on the internet? Are you trying to garner extra sympathy for a problem you didn’t actually have?

Another major complaint concerns Rev. Lang’s writing style. He switches from first person to second person with alarming frequency. Here’s an example: “You are also there for the sicknesses, tragedies and deaths. I don’t think anyone becomes a pastor not knowing this is what you are signing up for. However, the reality of what this does to you mentally and emotionally is taxing over the long haul.” It felt like Rev. Lang was not willing to commit fully to what he was writing, diminishing its impact. He also implied that he was speaking for a much broader and larger group of people, as if he’s the first clergyperson to be brave enough to tell church people what they really need to know. Is he expecting a great big thank you from all of those poor (literally and figuratively) clergy who just aren’t as courageous as he is?

Rev. Lang also fails to acknowledge an issue of considerable gravity: he has a dangerous case of white male privilege syndrome. He has come to assume that the world, and its various parts, will work for him, at least for the most part. He is educated and in possession of a professional degree. As a pastor, he worked at his craft and endeavored to strengthen his skills, to become yet more proficient. He assumed that those things would usher in a high level of respect and admiration. It sounds like he expected deference from his congregation, as many well-educated white men expect, in ministry as well as in just about every other field. Alas.

Finally, in his long “poor me/poor you” revelry, Rev. Lang misses an opportunity to consider his experience in the midst of the difficult reality that is the current state of the Church. The Church as we have known it is collapsing. The current notable trend is not just about the “great resignation.” It’s also about the great “dechurching” (see The Great DeChurching: Who’s Leaving, Why They Are Going, and What Will Bring Them Back? by Jim Davis and Michael Graham). Under the weight of the changes in our culture and society, the Church is in the midst of losing its place as part of American life. This has been going on for decades. The Church is in decline not only because of what’s going on in the rest of society, but also because of what has gone on within the Church, and its various expressions. Clergy abuse across so many denominations has eroded respect for the Church, its denominations and local churches. Church corruption, fraud, and other serious ethical lapses have left the Church maimed and enfeebled. And, then there’s the extremely unfortunate tie between evangelical Christians and a certain former President that makes all Christians look like hypocrites. Pastors, even those of us who live morally upright lives (to the best of our ability), are guilty by association.

Rev. Lang may be an intelligent, decent and compassionate person. But, without taking a good look at context, he takes an unfortunate turn in his assessment. This isn’t a simple story of a burned out clergyperson and a demanding congregation. Sure, it would be nice if those who remain connected to Christian churches would take more seriously, and purposefully, the leadership of the clergy— especially those of us who are well-educated and thoughtful! It would be good if those who attend worship on a regular basis were more open to the transformational work and Word of Christ. But, instead of pointing out all of their faults, we pastors ought to be doing more to help those in the Church recognize the profound changes in, and around, the Church, while showing them that they are appreciated and valued, by each other, by their pastor, and by the God they show up to worship.

In his closing, Rev. Lang made a point of including the count of how many people showed up for his last Sunday, in person and online. All were treated to one of the “best sermons” he’s ever preached. I really didn’t need another reminder of how much this man doesn’t seem to understand what’s actually going on or what’s important about Christian ministry in these challenging days. There’s no shame in discovering that there’s an end to one way of serving as pastor. But, there is shame in twisting one’s reasons into something that places blame solely on the flock, when it’s the shepherd who’s lost his way— probably a long time ago.

Posted in Studies, Demographics, Reality | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

That Darn Toy (and Her Movie) Has Got Me Thinking

Posted on August 31, 2023 by smaxreisert

God created humanity in God’s own image,
        in the divine image God created them,
            male and female God created them.

Genesis 1:27 (Common English Bible)

I wasn’t planning to see the Barbie movie. I’ve never in my life been a fan of Barbie and I’ve never felt pulled into her orbit. I didn’t play with Barbies as a child, except for maybe a few occasions when friends insisted that I play with their Barbies. I don’t remember having one of my own, or even asking for one. Barbie always seemed so strange, so thin, so plastic, so stiff, and those feet that always required shoes to look right. I couldn’t ever envision myself looking like her in any way, especially when it came to those strange, super-unnatural, feet.

During a recent visit with my children in Philadelphia, we found ourselves trying to figure out how to entertain ourselves on a cloudy and muggy Tuesday afternoon when most of the city’s museums were closed. My daughter had seen Barbie already, as part of a “Barbenheimer” extravaganza with her friends. But, she was eager to see it again, especially with her mother, it turned out. My son was less enthusiastic, but willing to go along. So, off we went to one of the city cinemas that was showing the movie.

Except for the end of the movie, which I thought was a complete train wreck, I enjoyed the movie a great deal. I laughed so hard, I thought I might damage myself.

For good and for not so good, the movie has wormed its way into my head and has got me thinking. One of the more interesting aspects of the film for me is a moment not far from the end in which it becomes obvious that Barbie doesn’t really know what to do with Ken. After a failed attempt at creating a patriarchy in Barbie Land, both Barbie and Ken find themselves in unknown territory, with Barbie not clear on whether or not she wants any relationship Ken, leaving Ken bereft of his identity, since there is no “just Ken”; there’s only Barbie and Ken. Amid the reestablishment of female empowerment, Ken, along with all of the other Kens, returns to accessory status, or maybe not even that. Barbie’s confusion felt like a reflection of a larger issue of the continuing struggles in the relationship between women and men in our society, a confusion that is further revealed in the muddled and perplexing ending.

The movie creates a starkly contrasted “Barbie Land” and the “Real World.” In Barbie Land, the Barbies— except for a very short-lived time of patriarchy— run the show. They are in charge of the government, the law, the professions, etc. The Kens are there to do things like “beach” and provide lifts during choreographed dance scenes. At one point, Barbie admits that she doesn’t even know where the Kens live. In the “Real World,” women are not empowered. They are the ones stuck in support roles and expected to exist and perform in contradictory ways. The Mattel empire, of which Barbie is a sizable part, is run completely by men and it is clearly important to those men to maintain a hard line of distinction between the two worlds, with women’s empowerment relegated to the fantasy lives of females. As an aside, I must admit that, although the men are “in charge” in the Real World, their lot doesn’t appear at all appealing. Those at the top of the Mattel ladder are portrayed as completely one-dimensional. They are all dressed in the same dark suit and are only concerned with whatever it takes to make more money for the company (I wonder how Ms. Gerwig got away with such a portrayal, given that Warner Bros and Mattel collaborated on the project).

Among the many things the movie has me thinking about (there are also the really interesting topics of death, apathy and anxiety— but those will have to wait), is this notion that women and men cannot hold equal status, cannot work together in a way that allows each to flourish, supporting and encouraging each other, with the goal of respecting the dignity of each person and each person’s gifts and talents, regardless of gender. It’s as if only one gender can be “empowered” at a time. I realize this is just a movie about a doll, and the world created by a company to sell that doll and everything that comes with it, but there’s something here that reflects an uncomfortable reality of the tension in the relationship between women and men.

As Barbie (the movie) struggles to resolve itself to an ending, it exposes a decidedly not funny dynamic that we human beings are somehow not able to live together in equality. I realize that Christianity is a significant part of the problem, with few denominations and churches emphasizing the Genesis 1 creation story in which women and men are created at the same time. For way too many Christians, the only Creation story that counts is the one in Genesis 2 and 3 in which the female is created second, as a “helper.” Despite the fact that there are all kinds of problems with usage and translation, the second story is the one that offers, I guess, the neat and tidy display of men in the dominant role and women in the accessory role.

Nearing the age of sixty, I grew up in throes of the second wave of feminism in the 1960s and 70s. My mother was certainly not a feminist, nor were any of the women I encountered as a young child, except for one very important one. The church my family attended had on its staff a female minister of Christian Education who was an ordained clergyperson. I don’t remember her and I suspect she was never invited to preach a sermon at that church, but she’s the one who signed my third grade Bible that I received in September of 1972. I still have that Bible and whenever I look at it, I’m reminded of a hopefulness that I had as a child that I, too, could grow up to be an ordained pastor, or wherever else my gifts and talents could take me, that my status as a girl would not limit me in any way. It should not be that girls are invited to dream big, only to find that there are a whole lot of obstacles in their way. And, it should not be that men should feel there is a good reason to put up barriers, to protect their “place” at the expense of female empowerment. With such strict gender roles and expectations, we are all lessened.

As Barbie demonstrates plenty of its own confusion, it also offers a few rays of hope. As Ken bemoans the possibility that he will be left to “live and die a life of blonde fragility” as “just Ken,” he then becomes aware that’s he’s enough, “and great at doing stuff.” It’s not a great motto, or anthem, but it’s not bad— for Kens and Barbies, and all the rest of us too.

Posted in Popular Culture, Movies, TV | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Christianity, Not Churchianity!

Posted on August 22, 2023 by smaxreisert

My son recently arrived home after an almost five-month, 2200-mile journey hiking the Appalachian Trail.  No surprise, he had many tales to tell.  One story involved a man he met somewhere in the middle of the hike.  This man declared that he had shaken free of the capitalist system and had taken to the freedom of the woods and mountains.  Sure, he may have sported an array of expensive, high-end equipment, but he felt that he had freed himself from the shackles of the ordinary system of life in the United States.  He also claimed to have shaken himself free of the system of religion, although he had not rejected religion altogether.  My son remembers him stating that he belonged to “Christianity, not churchianity.”

This little nugget of story has lodged itself in my brain and I’ve been reflecting on it over this past week.  There is an important truth in the difference between the Church and Christ.  While churches may claim allegiance to Christ, that Christ is the “Head” of the local church (as in the case of Congregational and United Church of Christ churches), and that the church seeks to love and follow Jesus, no church can assert a thorough and complete knowledge of Jesus Christ and Jesus Christ’s intentions or expectations.  Each church and denomination is but a small window into an understanding of God, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit.

It’s too bad that most, if not all, churches and denominations fail miserably when it comes to recognizing how little we human beings can reasonably understand about the God we claim to be so wondrous and amazing.

I’m reminded of some of the especially illuminating observations of Frederick Buechner, one of my favorite Christian writers who died just over a year ago.  In his book Telling Secrets, Rev. Buechner offers this summary of the difference between churches and self-help groups:

I do not believe that such groups as these which I found my way to not long after returning from Wheaton College, or Alcoholics Anonymous, which is the group they all grew out of, are perfect any more than anything human is perfect, but I believe that the Church has an enormous amount to learn from them. I also believe that what goes on in them is far closer to what Christ meant his Church to be, and what it originally was, than much of what goes on in most churches I know. These groups have no buildings or official leadership or money. They have no rummage sales, no altar guilds, no every-member canvases. They have no preachers, no choirs, no liturgy, no real estate. They have no creeds. They have no program. They make you wonder if the best thing that could happen to many a church might not be to have its building burn down and to lose all its money. Then all that the people would have left would be God and each other. 

Telling Secrets by Frederick Buechner (1991)

In another book, Wishful Thinking, Rev. Buechner makes this bold claim: “Jesus said, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me’ (John 14:6). He didn’t say that any particular ethic, doctrine, or religion was the way, the truth, and the life. He said that he was. He didn’t say that it was by believing or doing anything in particular that you could ‘come to the Father.’ He said that it was only by him by living, participating in, being caught up by the way of life that he embodied, that was his way.” [Wishful Thinking, 1971]

Churches have much to learn when it comes to claims regarding their relationship with Christ.  When churches imply, or even state, that they possess the one and only truth about the Divine, they are really attaching themselves to and marketing idolatry. I don’t think I need to say that this is very dangerous.

There’s also an important bit of wisdom in the perception that the church is not a building. I take some issue with the need for choirs, liturgy and even preachers(!), since I believe that groups of the faithful need some structure (by “structure,” I’m not talking walls and a roof) and a mode and method of worship. But, churches are not buildings. Where the faithful gather is a place that is nothing more than a convenient space in which we gather for worship. We could be anywhere and in any space, but we choose to have a building that makes everything a little easier— except when we start to think that the building, especially any one particular building, is so necessary for the worship of God that without it, there is no church.

At Old South, we have much work to do to disentangle ourselves from our sanctuary building. It is a lovely building, no question, but it has become a serious problem. We are too small of a congregation to meet the needs of such a large, aging, demanding building with new leaks regularly making themselves known and plaster falling from the high ceilings and from around the large stained glass windows. But, probably our most serious work will be in disentangling ourselves from the notion that the building IS the church, that somehow it is that one building that allows us to worship God. We need to reacquaint ourselves with what the faith actually is and what it means. It’s not about walls and architecture. It’s about people and the lives that we live.

We must resist the temptation (for a temptation it surely is) to get so caught up in the granite and mortar (Old South’s sanctuary building is constructed of granite) that we lose sight of getting caught up in endeavoring to embody Christ in who we are and what we do.

Posted in Buildings | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Wondering About Life-Altering Experiences in a Secular World

Posted on July 31, 2023 by smaxreisert

Last week, I had to deliver my daughter to the bus station in Portland, Maine early in the morning. After helping her carry her stuff into the line to board the bus, I got back into my vehicle and took a moment to think about the immediate future. Since I live over an hour from Portland, any visit to the biggest city in Maine usually involves running a few errands— like visits to Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s (there’s only one of each in all of Maine). But, those stores open at 8:00am, which I would normally think of as plenty early, but last Thursday, as I sat in my truck in the bus station parking lot, 8:00am had not yet arrived. I considered my options.

After a quick online investigation of possible coffee spots, etc, I found myself tempted by the promise of a “life-altering experience.” This promise involved a place called “The Holy Donut” and a particular kind of maple donut that was required if I ever wanted to declare myself as having lived a full life. With the age of sixty not so far into the future, I figured I better take advantage of the lull before groceries and check out that donut. I mean, the cafe has “holy” in the title. How could I possibly not want to have a life-changing experience on an altogether normal Thursday in the middle of summer?

I purchased the supposedly remarkable donut, along with a decidedly unremarkable cup of coffee, and set myself up at the small counter by the window. I took the precious donut from its bag and broke it apart into a few pieces, all the while preparing my soul for a miraculous experience.

It was certainly a fine donut. And, I was all the more impressed knowing that the donut was made from fine Maine potatoes. As an aside, I must say that I continue to marvel at the amazing things that the humble potato—especially the humble Maine potato— can accomplish. But, I can honestly say that I did not have anything even close to a life-altering experience. And, I don’t think that the donut, as delicious as it was, fulfilled my quest to live a full life.

It was a good donut and I’m glad that I tried it, although I’m not sure it was worth the calories that I’m still endeavoring to work off.

As I sat at that counter, looking out at a cloudy morning on Portland’s waterfront, enjoying the maple donut made out of potato, I wondered about life-altering experiences. What happens to how we understand such experiences when so many people are cutting ties to an entire arena that is significantly connected to transformational experiences? I realize that religious practice is just one of many ways to have one’s life and one’s perspective altered, but it is, and has been, a meaningful avenue for many to feel something that can be deemed truly life-changing. As the opportunities that religious communities offer become less and less available, will the concept of the transformational experience be diminished? Will the maple potato donut have to be enough?

Posted in My Life as Pastor | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Hey! Different Kind of Church Here! Part 2

Posted on July 18, 2023 by smaxreisert

I don’t keep my profession a secret, but there are times when I wish I could. One recent example involves a little monthly pampering that I give to myself: I get a pedicure about once a month. I’ve seen the same pedicurist for several years. I’ll call her Tammy. I’m sure I told Tammy long ago that I was a Protestant minister, but somehow Tammy never absorbed that piece of information— until a couple of months ago. This has turned into an unfortunate situation, involving problematic assumptions that people sometimes make when they hear the word “Christian.”

Last month, as one foot was soaking and the other was beginning to get the treatment it so desperately needed, Tammy started talking about Maine’s “terrible governor,” who was poised to sign into law expanded access to abortion, including late-term. Tammy was beside herself. “I keep thinking about my precious grandbabies,” she declared. And, then she went on to talk about how horrifying it was to think about other grandbabies being aborted just a day before they were to be born, that women could decide at the last minute that they had changed their mind about giving birth and could abort at any point throughout the pregnancy. “I just can’t stop thinking about my precious grandbabies,” she commented several times, emphasis on “precious.” It was clear enough that she believed that she was in the company of a kindred spirit, one who would join her in her outrage.

My conversations with Tammy, during my regular visits, rarely venture into political issues, but on that day in June, she went on at length, clearly assuming that I shared her discomfort and anger. As Tammy went on (she had a lot to say before I could get a word in, to dispel her assumptions), she told me about all the things that she had learned about the “terrible” governor’s policies from her friends at the church she attends. Tammy, it turns out, does not watch or read the news herself. She completely relies on information that is passed to her in places like church, and she spends little energy in asking any questions about that information.

When I could finally get a word in edgewise, I told her that I had a very different approach to the issue at hand, that I believed abortion was a matter of choice for women. It took at bit for Tammy to understand what I was trying to say to her. She knew that I was a Christian clergyperson and the expectations she held about what that meant ran deep and strong.

She finally asked me how I could hold such a view that “precious” children, like her precious grandbabies, could be terminated just before birth? I paused and waited for her to look at me and then I asked, “Do you know any woman who would make such a decision on a whim and not in the event of something catastrophic? Do you know any woman who would do that?” And, then I went on to inform her that, although Maine’s governor was indeed poised to grant greater access to abortion, that abortions beyond the viability stage are exceedingly, extraordinarily rare.

It took a moment or two for Tammy to think about this. She had a lot going on in her head, as she absorbed this unsettling notion that someone who shared her faith did not share her views on an issue that was likely one of the foundational pieces of how she understood the faith and its essential beliefs. Finally, she admitted that she could not think of any woman who would do that, but still, it seemed to her that access to abortion ought to be more severely limited and not expanded. How could any good Christian think otherwise?

As we continued our conversation, I suggested to her that women ought to be trusted to make good and moral choices, and that churches ought to spend more time reflecting on the negative views they have about women as well as the control they wish to place on women’s lives and bodies. As the expression on her face got more and more perplexed, I told her that I was frustrated by the scare tactics many Christian churches employ to frame dangerously disrespectful notions of the personhood of women and to draw terrible portraits of the murder of “precious infants,” as if there’s an entire class of homicidal women getting pregnant precisely to murder babies just before birth.

Tammy had a hard time with our conversation. And, I’ll admit that I did too. I don’t like the assumptions that are made when one identifies as Christian. I don’t like that many Christians are led to believe that “good Christians” agree on certain topics. My conversation with Tammy was not the first time I’ve found myself in a conversation in which clear (but false) assumptions were made about where I stand on sensitive matters like abortion— not only because of I define myself as a Christian, but I’m also a member of the clergy.

I wonder sometimes about how many people have stopped going to church because of the dominance of anti-choice sentiments among many Christian churches and denominations. How hard do I need to wave my different approach on such matters, as well as the different approach of the entire denomination of which I am part? And will it make any difference?

Posted in My Life as Pastor, Other Denominations/Christians, United Church of Christ | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Hey! Different Kind of Church Here!

Posted on June 29, 2023 by smaxreisert

The news regarding the state of Christianity and church life in the United States is all bad, for those who still attend some kind of church. In a newsletter series offered by The New York Times, Jessica Grose has written extensively about the continuing significant shifts in the religious landscape of the United States, from the massive “dechurching” that’s been in process for the last half century to new categories that describe “nones.”

In Hallowell, Maine, we don’t need to read about the shifts in the religious landscape. We are right in the throes of it all. In this tiny city just south of the state capital, the Episcopal church closed in 2020 and the United Methodists are about to start sharing 1.5 clergy in a cluster of six area churches. Several of Old South’s most active members are people who were members of another UCC church, a couple of towns south. That church closed almost fifteen years ago.

As I continue to read the troubling media coverage of the decline in attachment to and participation in Christian communities, I’m often struck by the associations, and assumptions, people appear make about Christianity and its various denominations and churches. Some people have left the “Church” because of the sexual abuse scandals in the Roman Catholic Church. Some people have left because of the lack of welcome to those in the LBGTQIA community. Some people have left because of the treatment and status of women. Some have left because they have doubts and questions around traditional systems of belief and are troubled by literal interpretations of the Holy Bible. Many of these people, it appears, have left a “church,” without regard to the wide variety of churches that exist.

Not all Christian churches are the same, nor do all Christian churches maintain the same practices or adhere to the same doctrines and dogma. There’s a reason why most towns and cities across this country have multiple churches. They are different!

Although the denomination in which I hold my ordained standing and in which I serve as clergy, the United Church of Christ, is experiencing not only the same decline, but in some cases a more aggressive form of decline, I sometimes just want to vent my anger and frustration. The UCC ordains women and welcomes women in all aspects of leadership. We are proudly welcoming of all sorts of people, with many UCC churches waving their pride flag(s) and we’ve been welcoming the LGBTQIA community in ordained leadership as well as in other forms of leadership for a very long time. We also welcome people with doubts and questions, and, as the theologian Karl Barth declared, we “take the Bible too seriously to take it literally.”

The UCC is far from perfect, to be sure, but among those who have left a church, but miss church community, we check a lot of the boxes that those people claim that they want. So, where are they?

As a small Mainline Protestant denomination, the United Church of Christ, is not found in every small town, or even in every county across the United States. So, some people have a good excuse not to check us out or even to be aware of our existence. But, there are plenty of UCC churches in the Northeast (New England, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, etc) and in pockets of the Midwest as well as scattered along the West Coast. For those who want to maintain a connection to the Christian faith, who wish for a more welcoming environment, who yearn for equity and far fewer scandals involving clergy abuse of children, we are right here. We may be harder to see, since we are shrinking at an alarming rate. Still, we are here. And ready to welcome and offer community, a place to experience and be reminded of God’s love for all.

Posted in United Church of Christ | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

These Difficult Days

Posted on June 11, 2023 by smaxreisert

It’s a tough time to be a clergyperson. We are expected not only to be able to complete widely-divergent tasks, but to do them well— from plumbing and building issues to website design (and maintenance) to flock wrangling to sermon writing (and delivering) to community organizing to seer of the future (as long as that “seeing” is the kind of seeing that fits neatly into the congregation’s expectations). Many of us are expected to be good collaborators, within our church community and outside the church community, even when those with whom we are supposed to collaborate are not all that interested in collaborating. And, then there are all of the complex and thorny issues around church communities becoming smaller and older.

During a recent conversation with a layperson who served on a local church search committee for that church’s new pastor, the person exclaimed with glowing admiration and boundless assurance that the soon-to-be new pastor of his church would usher that community into a new future of growth and opportunity. I was a bit taken aback by this man’s grand expectations that were clearly grounded in magical, unrealistic thinking. I wondered if the new pastor, who would be not only new to that community, but new to ministry (having only recently been ordained), had any idea of what is expected of her.

I’ve been in clergy conversations recently in which the word “stressful” has been the key word. Many of these conversations, I’ve started to realize, focus on one or two or a tiny group at a local church that cause almost all of the stress. The stressfulness rarely comes from an entire community, or even most of a church congregation. It always seems to be a very small number, sometimes as small as a single person. Yet, one of the most stressful aspects is that the rest of the congregation is either unwilling or unable to confront the difficult person or very small group. This sets up a situation where one person, or a tiny group of people, largely set the tone for the entire (not large to begin with) congregation and that tone includes impossible, and unfair, expectations of the church’s pastor. Since most of the clergy that I connect with are in sole pastorates, most of which are less than full-time, this is a particularly enervating state of affairs.

It’s a tough time to be a clergyperson. For myself, I feel fortunate not to be in the midst of at least some of the same issues as my colleagues. While Old South would love to experience some growth and opportunity (what congregation wouldn’t?), I don’t think most people hold outrageous expectations around what I’m supposed to do about growth and opportunity. I’ve been preaching for a very long time about the bigger issues that we are facing, in the national decline in church membership and participation, etc. Still, I wouldn’t exactly characterize my work and ministry as a walk in the park.

Some of the most challenging aspects of being a pastor are connected to my own consternation around those wider issues. Church community has been, for so much of my life, a place of great significance, a place where I’ve experienced love, grace and blessing. How can it be that I’m now in the midst of a ministry that is considering the sale of a church building or where a Sunday attendance of more than thirty people is something to celebrate? I don’t want to be in this spot, any more than my parishioners.

As I read article after article about the mental health crisis taking over this country, I wonder a lot about how local churches can wave themselves into the community’s consciousness: feeling unloved and full of despair? We can help with that!

At the same time, I am very much aware of at least some of the things that keep people away, including clergy abuse of children, clergy abuse of women, and the various other scandals that have rocked large churches and therefore, have received media coverage. It’s a very big thing for a small church to endeavor to build, or rebuild, trust in a community.

It’s a tough time to be a clergyperson. Yet, I find myself often contemplating the stories about the earliest of Jesus followers, especially after the crucifixion and then resurrection. So many of them were terrified, huddled together behind locked doors. Somehow, though, they managed to pull themselves together, to open themselves to a new reality, which likely wasn’t at all what they thought it would be, and they set out to share the Good News, little by little, making a huge difference in the lives of one person after another. That’s our calling as well. It may not make the reality of our lives and ministries any easier, but a renewed sense of purpose might do a great deal to diminish the magical and unrealistic expectations that parishioners put on their pastors.

Posted in My Life as Pastor | Tagged | 1 Comment

Looking for the Opportunity in the Crisis

Posted on May 24, 2023 by smaxreisert

Last week, I read an article from NPR entitled, “The Faithful See Both Crisis and OpportunityAs Churches Close Around the Country.” (https://www.npr.org/2023/05/17/1175452002/church-closings-religious-affiliation) The article outlined the continued issues experienced in the Christian Church and its many denominations. More churches are closing than opening. The percentage of people who list “religion” as important in their lives continues to decline. The average parishioner age is increasing. Etc.

At Old South, we are experiencing all of it. While we may be in better shape than some churches (we still have a healthy endowment, we’ve already “right-sized” our governance structure, and so on), we are struggling with how to move forward. A growing number of our regular parishioners seem ready to disengage from the building that houses the sanctuary, to try to sell it and move worship— and everything else that we do— to the parish house. But, there are a few who are opposed to selling the sanctuary building. For a congregation that is already small, the sense of a possible rift that might cause even just a few people to leave the church has ushered in its own worry and consternation— and inertia.

And then there is the grief. Over the past couple of months, members of the governing board have paired off and have met with those who are not part of the board, to listen and to talk about the challenges ahead. The central question revolves around the possible sale of the sanctuary building. Most people agree that it’s probably time to sell the sanctuary building. The congregation is getting smaller and older while the sanctuary building is getting older too, and instead of shrinking along with the congregation, has become much more in need of costly repair and maintenance. But, the thought of actually going through with a vote and putting a “for sale” sign in front of the sanctuary building brings a deep sense of loss and grief that can barely be contemplated. How did this happen? Why now? Why us? The grief looms large, as if there’s nothing but failure and death. The word “sad” is now used so much that we might rename ourselves “Old Sad Church.”

It has been difficult to lay out the reality of opportunity in such a way that it finds its place alongside the grief. For there are opportunities here. Instead of two aging and needy buildings, we could have one updated and more useful building. Instead of spending so much of our time and energy worrying about the sanctuary building and fretting over the next rain storm (and the water that will make its way into the structure, further damaging walls, ceilings and floors), we could be considering ways of making our parish house more useful to the community. We could spend less time on the demands of our physical plant, and more time on mission.

Some of the anxiety at Old South is connected to the notion that no one will want to buy the sanctuary building alone, that the only way to sell is to offer both buildings. If we end up needing to sell both, then where will we be? To some extent, I can understand the vexation at the thought of somehow becoming a “homeless” congregation. Still, it’s frustrating that we, a congregation of people who claim a kinship as followers of Jesus Christ, the One who died and then rose again, appear to be paralyzed by the challenges we face— instead of allowing our faith to lead us.

Christians throughout the centuries have found themselves in all sorts of challenges and difficulties. So many Christians have found ways of managing the grief and sadness (and anger too), in order that they might grasp onto the opportunities that the way of faith opens up. It’s not an easy or simple thing to do, but finding opportunities in the midst of crisis is really a vital component to the life of any Christian and any Christian community. Easter wouldn’t be Easter if those first followers didn’t open their eyes and their hearts to perceive what was right in front of them— as unbelievable as it surely seemed.

Posted in Buildings, Studies, Demographics, Reality | Tagged , | Leave a comment

What’s So Funny?

Posted on May 8, 2023 by smaxreisert

I’m not sure where the practice began, but at the church where I grew up in suburban Boston in the 1970s, it was a common practice for the pastor to begin his weekly sermon with a joke. Perhaps it was meant to lighten the mood, to allow people a brief moment to settle in, or simply to provide a little break before delving into more weighty matters, there was always the opening joke.

Occasionally, I follow the same pattern by starting a sermon with a joke. But, I don’t do it very often. Although I like humor, and I like to be in situations and among people where there is the opportunity for laughter, I usually find that the middle of a worship service is just not the right place.

As I have gotten older, and have acquired a bit more (of what I hope can be classified as) wisdom, I’ve discovered that humor in the context of a sermon is a dicey business. There are times when it feels appropriate to offer something funny, but I have found that the mix of joking and sermonizing, can be a really difficult area. So, for the most part, I avoid it.

I’ve been thinking about humor and the Christian faith. It started when a certain email newsletter, that I never subscribed to, started to show up in my in-box, sometimes multiple times a day. A couple of months ago, a friend pointed me to a piece on the Babylon Bee that she thought I would find amusing. So I went looking for it. I did not find that particular piece especially funny, but somehow in taking a look at it, the Babylon Bee figured out my email address and started sending me their email newsletter.

The Babylon Bee describes itself as “Your Trusted Source for Christian News Satire.” It leans decidedly to the conservative side.

When I started to find the Babylon Bee in my inbox on a regular basis, I went looking for a way to unsubscribe. I didn’t really like most of the material I saw. But, after some thought, I decided that I wasn’t quite ready to unsubscribe. I felt like I should keep an eye on this newsletter.

I don’t often open the emails that I receive multiple times a day. I take a look probably once every few days. I’m troubled by many of the items that I see. Although there are a few vaguely amusing headlines about Bible stories (“Disciples Casually Ask Kid With Fish and Loaves If His Mom Could Pack Wings and Nachos Next Time”) and church life (“Visitor Expertly Weaves Past Church Greeters Like Saquon Barkley”), much of the humor seems directed at tired and cheap stereotypes about women (“Woke Alert: New Movie Features Competent Female” and “Man Daydreaming During Wife’s Long Story Praying It Doesn’t End With A Question”) and everything they can think of to pile onto the LGBTQ+ community (“Hasbro Introduces New ‘Transition Me’ Elmo Doll” and quite a few headlines connected to Bud Light and their relationship with a transgender influencer).

I have a reasonable sense of humor. I like to laugh. But, there is very little I find funny at The Babylon Bee. Its humor, and attempt at satire, is usually sophomoric, at best. If I were a teenage boy, I would probably find it hilarious. That’s not a good thing.

The world of Christian comedy is a complicated one. And I suspect it is even more complicated for organizations whose job it is to produce and provide comedy/satire for Christians. And given the number of emails that I receive from the Babylon Bee, it’s clear that they feel that it’s necessary to keep the content coming.

But there’s still a question about the relationship between the Christian faith and humor, whether it be satire or a relatively simple joke. How should Christians go about being funny and amusing? Should Christians observe particular boundaries, should they endeavor to avoid certain situations or categories or people? What is the relationship between one’s faith and one’s desire to make fun of other people or situations? Should Christian satirists practice any sort of restraint in providing humorous content for other Christians and/or the general public?

It’s one thing to make fun of the powerful, those whose lives consist of a certain level of status and comfort. It’s a very different thing to kick people when they are already down, or to take advantage of people whose lives are not at all comfortable and worse yet, to perpetuate harmful lies and distortions about the lives of people who are not straight white men.

Jesus was very clear about the most important components of the life of faith: love God and love neighbor as self. I’m not trying to be a complete fun squelcher, but I don’t think Jesus gave a pass to humorists or satirists. It’s not that we cannot ever look to our neighbors to be amused. And, it’s always a good idea to consider one’s own foibles on a regular basis. But, when so-called Christians consistently prey upon easy targets, when they further marginalize people who are already struggling, when they rely too often on stale, old stereotypes, a crucial question must be considered: what sort of faith are these “Christians” displaying?

Posted in Popular Culture, Movies, TV | Tagged , , | Leave a comment