Alban Weekly for Monday, 19 June 2017 - The Duke divinity School in Durham, North Carolina, United States - PRACTICAL WISDOM FOR LEADING CONGREGATIONS "Rebranded ELCA church is a place of welcome for believers and nonbelievers alike: A BROOKLYN CHURCH FOUND WAYS OF REACHING PEOPLE UNLIKELY TO COME TO CHURCH IN ITS TRADITION"
Alban Weekly for Monday, 19 June 2017 - The Duke divinity School in Durham, North Carolina, United States - PRACTICAL WISDOM FOR LEADING CONGREGATIONS "Rebranded ELCA church is a place of welcome for believers and nonbelievers alike: A BROOKLYN CHURCH FOUND WAYS OF REACHING PEOPLE UNLIKELY TO COME TO CHURCH IN ITS TRADITION"
On a sunny spring Sunday morning, the people of Park Church Co-op gathered for worship in their historic sanctuary, in the Brooklyn, New York, neighborhood of Greenpoint. The pews were totally empty. Instead, the congregants sat in an oval of chairs arranged on the chancel, around the communion table. Attendance that day: nine.
Simply by virtue of the body count, the church might appear to be failing. Once, more than 200 worshippers filled those pews on a typical Sunday. Yet since 2013, when the Rev. Amy Kienzle took over as pastor of what was then called the Lutheran Church of the Messiah, the congregation has shown signs of vigorous life and vibrant ministry.
It has flung open its doors to the community's artists and musicians, hosting dance parties, art exhibitions and concerts. It has built a robust calendar of spiritual offerings, including a weeknight compline service that brings ancient chant and medieval polyphony to a neighborhood more accustomed to emo angst and indie rock. And two years ago, in a signal of its posture of partnership and of welcome to believers and nonbelievers alike, it rebranded itself the Park Church Co-op.
Kienzle's work has begun to draw notice. Earlier this year, Brooklyn magazine named her to its 100 Brooklyn Influencers list, enthusing about Park Church Co-op's openness to the creative community and writing that "Kienzle's influence has firmly placed the congregation as the new neighborhood staple." But Park Church Co-op isn't just an old church space reborn as a new artistic venue. Under Kienzle, it's seeking to be a spiritual bridge to people who typically wouldn't enter a Christian church, and in doing so, it's re-connecting with its deep missional roots.
Rebranded ELCA church is a place of welcome for believers and nonbelievers alike by: Jeff Chu
Young residents of a changing Brooklyn attend a concert at Park Church Co-op, one of its many events and spiritual offerings. Photos by Whitney Kidder
In a changing Brooklyn neighborhood, the Park Church Co-op is re-connecting with its missional roots, seeking to be a spiritual bridge to people who typically wouldn’t enter a Christian church.
On a sunny spring Sunday morning, the people of Park Church Co-op gathered for worship in their historic sanctuary, in the Brooklyn, New York, neighborhood of Greenpoint. The pews were totally empty. Instead, the congregants sat in an oval of chairs arranged on the chancel, around the communion table. Attendance that day: nine.
Simply by virtue of the body count, the church might appear to be failing. Once, more than 200 worshippers filled those pews on a typical Sunday. Yet since 2013, when the Rev. Amy Kienzle took over as pastor of what was then called the Lutheran Church of the Messiah, the congregation has shown signs of vigorous life and vibrant ministry.
Worshippers at Park Church Co-op go back to the pews on the first Sunday of the month.
It has flung open its doors to the community’s artists and musicians, hosting dance parties, art exhibitions and concerts. It has built a robust calendar of spiritual offerings, including a weeknight compline service that brings ancient chant and medieval polyphony to a neighborhood more accustomed to emo angst and indie rock. And two years ago, in a signal of its posture of partnership and of welcome to believers and nonbelievers alike, it rebranded itself the Park Church Co-op. Kienzle’s work has begun to draw notice. Earlier this year, Brooklyn magazine named her to its 100 Brooklyn Influencers list (link is external), enthusing about Park Church Co-op’s openness to the creative community and writing that “Kienzle’s influence has firmly placed the congregation as the new neighborhood staple.” But Park Church Co-op isn’t just an old church space reborn as a new artistic venue. Under Kienzle, it’s seeking to be a spiritual bridge to people who typically wouldn’t enter a Christian church, and in doing so, it’s re-connecting with its deep missional roots.
How can your church be a bridge to people who are unchurched and perhaps even skeptical of church?
“This church has a tradition of being a community space,” said the Rev. Ann Kansfield, co-pastor of Greenpoint Reformed Church, about a half-mile away. “What Amy is doing is infusing it with some theology and some sense of church.”
A blend of traditional and non-
The recent Sunday service at Park Church Co-op constantly blended traditional and non-. The communion table was set with a pristine lace-edged cloth; the bread was a loaf of ciabatta, the wine a bottle of Chateau Diana merlot from the bodega down the street (“That’s all they have,” Kienzle said later). The hymns were old-school, although “Holy, Holy, Holy” was accompanied by banjo.
The Rev. Amy Kienzle presides at the Eucharist at a recent Sunday worship service.
When the time came for the offering, Kienzle told those gathered that “we do have Venmo and PayPal, so if anyone does want to do an electronic offering, you can.” The offertory, sung by music director Josh Martin, was “Doubting Thomas,” a Nickel Creek song. Kienzle wore a clerical collar, but also tan wingtips and gray slacks that allowed a tattoo above her left ankle to peek out. The tattoo is of the Greek word χάρις, which means “grace.” During her reflection on the morning’s Scripture passage -- John 20:19-31, (link is external) the story of Thomas asking to see and touch Jesus’ wounds -- Kienzle spoke candidly about the gifts of others’ testimonies. In her college years, when she returned to the church of her childhood, Kienzle met a woman named Lottie, whose hands were gnarled from chronic arthritis. Even so, Lottie’s radiant smile “was untouched by the pain she experienced on a daily basis,” Kienzle said. Once, Lottie claimed to have seen Jesus standing at the foot of her bed. “That, amid her suffering, gave her hope,” Kienzle said. “‘We have seen the Lord,’ the disciples told Thomas. It’s an unbelievable assertion! Those who see the specter of dead people are kind of crazy, right? But her story helped my faith journey. … Our willingness to be vulnerable and to share our faith story with others can be the means for them to see the Lord.” If the congregants were surprised by Kienzle’s story of a mystical encounter, they didn’t show it. Kienzle has always been drawn to things unseen, to the unprovable, to the mysterious. “It took me a long time to stop believing in Santa,” she said later. She grew up on Long Island. Her father was Lutheran, her mother Episcopalian. They weren’t churchgoers, and she recalls her mother disavowing organized religion. Yet Kienzle was baptized Lutheran, and she and her sister were raised attending Sunday school, she said, even if “sometimes we got sent in a cab.” When she got to NYU, she chose to focus on medieval and Renaissance studies, specializing in art history: “The Bible stories were there in living color.” The summer before her sophomore year, she decided to stop by her old church to see what time services were. “I was bored,” she said. “But I also felt like something was missing. Maybe it was the ritual. Maybe it was the mystery.” Within months, she was on several church committees. And after finishing college, she went to seminary. “My mom was like, ‘What happened to art?’” Ordained in 2007, Kienzle spent six years at a Lutheran church in Dearborn Heights, Michigan, before accepting a call to Greenpoint, Brooklyn, as a mission developer. Her task, supported by well over $100,000 a year from the ELCA: to find new life in an old church.
Neighborhood of change and opportunity
The first time I met Kienzle, we ate at an old-school Greenpoint diner called Manhattan Three Decker, which has served bacon and eggs for at least a half-century. The second time, we ate at Littleneck Outpost, a three-year-old cafe/boutique/eatery. That day, the special was an $8.50 breakfast sandwich with egg, smoked cheddar and wild ramps on ciabatta. You could also buy $15 canvas tote bags and $24 sea-salt candles from Sweden. The contrast between the two reflects today’s Greenpoint. It’s a neighborhood of change and opportunity, tensions and challenges. Just as the Irish and Germans that populated the area eventually gave way to waves of Polish immigrants, the Poles are now being replaced by waves of hipsters and young professionals. Amid change, nothing is certain, and promising starts often succumb to disappointing realities -- including at this very church. In 2009, The New York Times published an article praising the work of Kienzle’s predecessor, the Rev. Griffin Thomas, opening the church up to arts and community organizations. But by the time he left in 2012, after nearly eight years at the church, attendance was no higher than it had been when he arrived. What Kienzle has done is to integrate history, outreach and spirituality in a way that the church had not before. The Lutheran Church of the Messiah was planted in 1899 as a missional congregation. Several years ago, as Kienzle cleaned out the detritus that had accumulated throughout the building over the decades, she found an old booklet containing the church constitution as well as an advertisement for the congregation. It said, “English Evangelical Lutheran Church of the Messiah,” and then, underneath that, in small type, “Park Church,” a reference to its location right across the street from Monsignor McGolrick Park. “We’re reclaiming that history,” Kienzle said, “though we have to speak a different language now.”
How can your church’s history and tradition be reclaimed in new ways?
Over the past few years, she asked the various groups that operate out of the church -- including a farmers market, the Brooklyn Children’s Theatre and a monthly dance party called No Lights, No Lycra -- whether she could call them “ministry partners.” (link is external) They all agreed -- intriguing, since none of the nine are Christian organizations. Take the one led by Debbie Attias, who identifies as Jewish. It’s a weekly fitness class called Dancorcism (yes, “dance” + “exorcism”). “When I first approached Amy, I was like, ‘Oh, Dancorcism sounds like the devil! She’s going to think I’m crazy!’” Attias said. “But we’re exorcising our everyday demons -- anger, fear, guilt. It’s basically energy work and healing and dance therapy disguised as a dance-and-aerobics class.”
Debbie Attias and her students take a quiet moment to prepare for her Dancorcism class.
Each session works through the seven chakras -- the body’s energy centers, according to ancient Indian spirituality -- with music specially chosen for each. For a recent session, the soundtrack for the power chakra -- roughly, the torso -- was “Oh Bondage, Up Yours,” (link is external) from the 1970s British punk band X-ray Spex. “It’s very angry,” Attias said. “A lot of people are feeling stressed out with the political climate. At the power chakra, you can have a temper tantrum and let your body express frustration and chaos and just release your energy.” The session always culminates with the crown chakra, “when you realize that everything is connected and everything is love,” she said. “At the end, everyone is dancing together. There is no choreography anymore. We are making eye contact and giving each other what I call dance magic -- essentially, a blessing with your dance moves.” For this, Attias chose “Sunny,” (link is external) the disco-driven 1976 song from Boney M.
A blissful Debbie Attias releases her energy at her Wednesday Dancorcism class.
What are the stereotypes of pastors and church people? How does your church fit them? Defy them?
That journey from negative energy to positive roughly tracks Attias’ own attitudes toward Christianity. Her relationships with Kienzle and Park Church Co-op’s congregants have challenged her stereotypes “of what a pastor was supposed to be and what church people are supposed to be,” Attias said. “Here I am, part of a church now,” she said. “And I like it! I’m proud of it! I like telling people I’m at my church, and they’re like, ‘What are you talking about?’” Such testimonies hearten Kienzle in her efforts to meet Greenpoint’s people where they are.
What does it mean to meet people “where they are?” How open is your church to difference and to new experiences?
“People move closer to you if you stay open,” she said. “They begin to trust you.” Attias also co-hosts a monthly meditation session with Kienzle called Sound Church. Kienzle noted that the meditative “sound bath” led by Attias regularly includes readings of inspirational work, often poetry. It’s not a Christian service, and for months, Attias was adamant that it remain nonsectarian. But recently, she approached Kienzle to say that she’d been reading and pondering Psalm 23. Might that work at Sound Church as a prayer?
Reflecting on mistakes
Lately, Kienzle has been reflecting on the mistakes she made in her first few years at the church. She has occasionally let things slip beyond her grasp. Wanting to be welcoming, “sometimes we’ve said yes to things we shouldn’t have,” she said. Two years ago, for instance, the church agreed to be the venue for a feminist symposium. During one session, 16 people took off all their clothes and ran around the church naked. A startled church member took a picture and sent it to everyone. “I believe in pushing the boundaries of church,” Kienzle said. “But I’ve also learned that we have to ask more questions and be careful to explain why something is allowed to be here.” Last fall, she began incorporating more structure, drawing better boundaries. There are now standard booking forms that all who want to use the church as an event space must fill out. She created a team to share responsibility for managing musical performances, which constitute the bulk of demand. And with the co-op’s ministry partners, she drafted a statement of shared values -- a reminder that Park Church Co-op is not just a historic building but also a space of spiritual community.
Musician Robert Millis performs at the Park Church Co-op.
“It’s a challenge,” Kienzle said, “to discern who’s really committed to the place and who just wants to use it.” She has welcomed new partners such as Matt Morello, a musician who lives around the corner. After running into Kienzle at the local farmers market, where she was blessing vegetables, he approached her last year to suggest starting a monthly compline service. Held on the first Thursday of each month, the candlelit half-hour service of sung prayer draws on ancient tradition, Morello said. “Some of the chant is very old -- that could be the first millennium,” he said. “The polyphony that we sing, the multipart stuff -- it’s usually 1400 to 1600.” While Morello’s careful to note that “it’s not just a concert,” he’s equally adamant that the experience is up to the attendee to define: “It is a presentation of sacred music in a sacred space that I think lets us explore what those things are.” Such programming helps move Kienzle toward her goal of expanding Park Church Co-op as a spiritual center. “We need to figure out how to grow this worshipping community and make that a priority in a way we weren’t before,” she said.
In contrast to Sunday worship, a concert by Robert Millis draws a large crowd to Park Church Co-op.
How do you measure success?
But how do you measure success on that front? Attendance burgeoned to nearly 100 people last Christmas Eve. And some non-holiday Sundays, enough people have attended that the chancel was crowded, so now they’re experimenting with going back to the pews on the first Sunday of each month. Yet while church attendance might be one indicator of success, it isn’t the only one, Kienzle said. Neither Attias nor Morello attends on Sunday mornings, nor do they plan to. And in this neighborhood, residents’ personal barriers to entry at 11 a.m. on Sundays might be too high to overcome. “I know we’ve impacted people’s lives and changed their minds about the church,” she said. “People say, ‘I’m so glad this church is here.’ But that doesn’t mean they’re going to come on Sundays and forgo brunch, or that they will make it the center of their lives.” This points to important underlying questions not just for Kienzle and Park Church Co-op but for the church beyond: What does “church” mean today, particularly in a transient, urban context like Greenpoint -- and what should it mean? What are the unchangeable aspects of church, and what must be contextualized? How does God appear, and how can the people of Jesus bring their welcome and witness to the world?
What are the essentials of church? How can your church attract nonbelievers without sacrificing core beliefs?
“I do struggle a bit,” Kienzle said. “I am a Christian pastor. The call is to Word and sacrament. My call is to be a bridge. But how do I do that?” The Rev. Lamont Wells, Kienzle’s ELCA mission-development supervisor, is watching Park Church Co-op’s numbers. He agrees that church membership or Sunday attendance stats are not all that matter; participation in other church-sponsored activities counts for something, too.
As this crowd of concertgoers attests, Park Church Co-op has become a neighborhood staple in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.
But while he’s optimistic about the ministry at Park Church Co-op, Wells said, “across the board, I’m not optimistic about the sustainability of many of our ministries.” The ELCA does full reviews of missional projects like Kienzle’s every 18 months, and ministry sustainability -- a particular challenge for churches of this size -- will no doubt be a criterion for evaluation. “We can’t continue to invest missional dollars forever,” Wells said, especially given the high cost of living and working in New York. “It’s a tough time to do ministry there.” Others in the neighborhood validate Kienzle’s work so far -- and see promising signs. “Amy should have collapsed like a cheap suit when she arrived and there were three people in her church. She didn’t,” said Kansfield, the Greenpoint Reformed Church co-pastor. “She has a deep sense of her own personal faith and lives it out in a way that is very attractive to others -- it’s generosity and compassion and creativity and connectedness to the people around her.” And what is all that, if not good news?
Questions to consider
To whom is your church in mission? Who, if anybody, is it trying to reach outside of the congregation?
How can your church be a bridge to people who are unchurched and perhaps even skeptical of church?
What are the essentials of church? How can your church attract nonbelievers without sacrificing core beliefs?
What are the stereotypes of pastors and church people? How does your church fit them? Defy them?
How can your church’s history and tradition be reclaimed in new ways?
What does it mean to meet people “where they are?” How well does your church do that? How open is it to difference and to new experiences?
Who are potential ministry partners in your church’s neighborhood?
The problem with 'outreach' is that it is 'out there,' and often presumes that we have no needs 'in here,' writes a denominational leader. But we are called to be near, to serve our neighbor both far away and in the next pew.
The problem with 'outreach' is that it is 'out there,' and often presumes that we have no needs 'in here,' writes a denominational leader. But we are called to be near, to serve our neighbor both far away and in the next pew.
Whenever I ask congregations to tell me about their ministry, they almost always start by talking about “outreach.” Whether the parish is large or small, rural or urban, members tell me how they give out food and clothes, donate money to nonprofits and conduct Vacation Bible School for neighborhood kids. They tell me about their committees -- even the ones that have only one or two members -- and the many events and programs they manage.
But more and more these days, they also talk about frustration and exhaustion. It’s the same people doing the same ministry over and over, they say, the same programs and large events staffed by the same handful of volunteers. They believe deeply that the church should “do outreach,” but everyone is busy and overcommitted. The result? Much less gets done by the few who keep giving more. Sometimes I wonder whether we should just stop. Stop trying so hard. Stop doing the same things hoping for different results. Stop “doing outreach” -- at least as we now envision it. More precisely, I wonder whether we should take a step back and rethink our understanding of “outreach” and how it fits within the context of church and ministry. The problem with “outreach” is that it is “out there,” somewhere far away. Jesus and his disciples, however, in their ministry, were close enough to touch. They served their neighbors; they healed people whose names they knew or with whom they spoke. For us, “outreach” is too often about packing food or sending resources and money to others. To be sure, such help is needed, but rarely are we asked to actually know and be with those neighbors in need. Though we might spend time with them as part of our “service,” we are never truly with them. Not really. “Outreach” too often presumes that we have no needs “in here.” Although most Christians I’ve met have great compassion for others, they -- we -- are often reluctant to know about, are even secretive about, the needs in our own communities. The priest might know who has lost a job or can’t pay the medical bills or whose house is in foreclosure, but not many other people do. Not those who share a pew with them, who pray alongside them, who receive the same bread and wine. Because those matters are private. Because we are ashamed. Because we are afraid. As we seek to serve the needs of others, of those outside our congregations, maybe we should also try to do better at knowing and sharing the needs of those within. We are called to be near. “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus was asked. A neighbor is “one who is nigh,” one who is near. We are called to serve our neighbors. We are called to be near enough to others to understand their needs, to bear their pain, to truly offer ourselves. Do we know the needs of our neighbors -- at home, at church, at work, even in our families? Are we willing to ask? Being near, however, is scary. Whenever I ask church people what comes to mind when they hear the word “outreach,” the first thing everyone says is “soup kitchen.” Why? Because the average person in the average pew is far away from the average person in the average soup kitchen. That person in the soup kitchen could never be me. Therefore, I never have to confront the needs of the kind of people I know, or even my own needs. I don’t have to know how needy we all are. “Be not afraid,” Jesus said. We don’t have to fear the stranger, that person whose life could not seem more different from my own. Receiving is even scarier. Christian service confronts us with the reality that each of us will likely be poor and vulnerable sometime. We are called to be as open to being served as we are to serving. Learning to be vulnerable enough to give and receive is ministry. It’s not a ministry that can be easily quantified -- like the number of meals served or mission trips completed -- but it is one that is at the heart of what church is for. The Christian community is not only a place where we worship God but also a place where members take the time to really talk, listen and reflect on their own lives and on the lives of others. It is a school where we learn to speak truth in love. It’s where we learn, by being neighbors, that all are neighbors, willing to share each other’s burdens. It’s where we learn to erase the boundary between “out there” and “in here.” Caring for our neighbors, whether in the next pew or far away, doesn’t always require organized programs. In fact, in many congregations today, more energy is expended organizing and scheduling “outreach” programs than in actually doing the work of ministry. Sometimes feeding the hungry is as simple as buying or preparing a meal. Sometimes visiting the sick is just that. These are no less ministry for not being organized in the name of the church, or any other organization. “If you love me, feed my sheep.” There are many ways to feed others and to be fed. There are infinite places and ways to serve others and to be served. But there is only one place to learn what the words of Jesus mean. Church is not just another organization to do “good work.” It is a religious community for forming disciples. If we do better at that task, then maybe we will start to see that people “out there” who are hungry and homeless are also “in here,” with us, part of us. And maybe our communities will grow until we really are all neighbors, all of us, whatever our condition. As Christian disciples, we will still be called to give and receive. But there may not be any more “out” to reach.
All Christians are called to invite others along the way of Jesus. Make it easy for people to say yes, don't wear out your welcome, and be yourself, advises a pastor who offers "free prayer" in public.
Thomas Rusert: How Christians can be inviting without being irritatingby Thomas Rusert
Bigstock / VectorShow
All Christians are called to invite others along the way of Jesus. Make it easy for people to say yes, don’t wear out your welcome, and be yourself, advises a pastor who offers “free prayer” in public.
A colorful balloonist recently accosted my family as we ate dinner.
We were at Applebee’s, led by gift cards from my grandfather and our little secret that we enjoy the restaurant’s kitschy atmosphere and half-price appetizers. The balloonist was walking around sporting a propeller-topped red hat and a balloon filled with rattling beads on his wrist. I hadn’t adequately prepared my 3-year-old to resist such enterprising genius. So she called out to the balloon man, giving him the green light to bother us. He didn’t charge us anything or ask for anything. He offered a gift with a smile and skill. But the button on his thick yellow suspender -- “I work for tips” -- made it clear that he was hoping for something, too. I reached into my wallet and surrendered a dollar. With my daughter gleefully shaking her inflated blue monkey, I said to my wife, “Don’t people know we just want to be left alone?” Yes, that was one of the less-pastoral things I said that day -- and not befitting a native of Minnesota. But it was true. I don’t go out to eat for the balloons. Since that encounter, an existential anxiety has gripped me: I, too, regularly go to restaurants to get noticed. I try to look different. I offer something -- “free prayer” -- that people did not come in for. Am I another suspendered balloonist? A clown with a clergy shirt? Something worse? Every week, I show up in restaurants or coffee shops to offer free prayer. Rather than a propeller-topped hat, I sport a clerical collar. Rather than a button inviting tips, I set up a black and white “Free Prayer” sign. And every week, I talk with several strangers about their faith and life. Every pastor, church leader and Christian is called somehow to invite others along the way of Jesus. In our secular age, ministry leaders cannot afford to hunker down in our holy hideouts. We have to be where the people are. But we must do so without being obnoxious. No rattling balloons, no buttons announcing, “I work for tips.” Yes, we have to be noticed, but there is a line between invitation and irritation. My experience with free prayer over the last two years has taught me several features of a welcome invitation. First, I’ve learned to make it easy to say yes. My “Free Prayer” sign invites people, but I make it easier for them to engage by catching their eyes and sharing a smile. I have even begun pushing the chair out on the other side of the table. People no longer have to move it to sit down. The smallest gesture speaks volumes. Without a word, I say, “Yes, I would love for you to sit here.” And that makes it a little easier for strangers to say yes to my invitation.
Thomas Rusert rotates "free prayer" among several shops and doesn't raid people's tables. He lets people come to him. Image courtesy of Thomas Rusert
The concept translates. Maybe you’d love to connect your sibling’s family with church. Make it easier for them to say yes to an invitation by giving them another reason to come. You love your kids; so do they. So invite them to your daughter’s baptism or to hear her sing in the choir. I have also learned through free prayer not to wear out my welcome. I don’t go to the same place every week but rotate among several shops. I set up where I can be noticed, but not right in front of the register. I don’t raid people’s tables; I let them come to me. The balloon man bugged me not because he was there but because he rattled his balloon right in front of my daughter. Just let me come to you, balloon man. Again, the concept translates. Proselytizing friends at dinner is irritating; weaving sermon insights into conversation is inviting. With a gentle approach, you’ll never have to eat alone -- you’ll dine another day with friends and have the chance to share another invitation. Finally, I’ve learned to be myself. Free prayer works for me because I enjoy meeting strangers. I like to listen to people and ask questions. I’m not shy about a quiet prayer in public. In “Telling the Truth, ”Frederick Buechner encourages authenticity in preachers, but the same goes for any Christian sharing faith: “He is called to be himself. He is called to tell the truth as he has experienced it. He is called to be human.” Jesus regularly sat with strangers and shared a meal. Jesus enjoyed eating, drinking and being social. He was authentic. And authenticity rarely irritates. To decide how you can go public as a Christian, consider where you are most authentic, most yourself, and then add a thoughtful invitation to the mix. Maybe you enjoy craft beer. How could you let people know about a guy who turned water into wine? Maybe you like to garden. How could a bountiful harvest tastefully witness to one who fed the hungry? As the 21st-century church, we must learn how to be inviting without being irritating. I assume the balloon man asked permission to be in Applebee’s. It’s anyone’s guess what manager thought it was a good idea to let him roam free. As Christians, we have all the permission we need to be out in the world pointing people to Jesus. God gave us the green light when God commanded us to “go.” The right invitation gets results. Make it easy for people to say yes. Don’t wear out your welcome. Be yourself. Just promise you’ll let me finish my dinner if you decide to use balloons. Interested in the Free Prayer ministry or have a creative idea for being inviting but not irritating? Go to https://1freeprayer.org/ (link is external) or email the author at trusert@doylestownlutheran.org (link sends e-mail).
Relational evangelism is reintroducing young people to the church, and they are finding authentic community as they participate in intentional communities interested in being the church.
A November 2009 issue of The Week featured a story, “Losing our religion,” that focused on the rapidly growing numbers of the religiously unaffiliated in the United States, the so called Nones, and asked if organized religion is fading. Younger than the general population, many Nones believe in God, yet are skeptical about organized religion. The article quotes recent statistics suggesting that if this trend continues, cohorts of nonreligious young people will replace older religious people and account for one-quarter of the American population. Another recent article in USA Today concluded that young adults born in the 1980s and 1990s, approximately 72 million people, want to make an impact and are socially-conscious yet do not relate to traditional institutional structures. A decreasing number of these young adults view churches as places to make a difference or to develop their leadership skills.2 The fact that nearly every major denomination is aging and losing members has been a concern for the last thirty years, yet institutional efforts to reverse these trends and to capture the religious imagination of young adults have been limited. Moreover, mainline denominations, historically and culturally self-conscious about evangelism, are further challenged to proclaim the good news in today’s religiously pluralistic nation and world. What then is the role of evangelism with young adults today? What are some of the ways that the Christian church can better respond to the spiritual questions of young adults in a religiously pluralistic age? How might congregations better respond to the gifts and skills young adults have to offer? “One of the reasons many churches don’t do evangelism well is that their motivation is self-serving,” says Tom Brackett, church planting specialist for the Episcopal Church. “Long before we announce the good news, God is at work among the people.” Brackett believes that a focus on evangelism primarily as a church growth strategy is counterproductive, especially with young adults, and at a time when the world is longing for evidence that God is with us. A more positive approach to evangelism for many, he suggests, lies “in pointing out the ways that God is already active, transforming lives, and connecting us to each other.” David Gortner, professor of evangelism and congregational leadership at Virginia Theological Seminary, writes in his book Transforming Evangelism that for evangelism to be effective today it must go deeper than top-down institutional solutions and traditional programs. Rather, Gortner argues that evangelism is a spiritual practice based in gratitude, combined with a new way of seeing and hearing God’s presence in others. “Evangelism is a willful, joyful spiritual discipline of seeing and naming the Holy Spirit at work in ourselves and those we encounter—giving voice to our own grace-filled experiences, and helping others find their voice.” One judicatory that is intentionally reaching out to young adults is the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts. In 2008, the diocese initiated the Relational Evangelism Pilot Project, a ministry designed to find out what young adults ages 18-30 value deeply, how they experience their faith journeys, and their perspectives on faith, spirituality, and the church. The project defines relational evangelism as “a life-long spiritual practice that is the ministry of all to recognize the power of God in Christ to transform our lives and communities, and then being willing to share those stories of God’s grace in others.” The project came about as a result of multiple gatherings around the Boston area of young adult clergy and others who were already engaged in young adult ministry. Arrington Chambliss, the director of the project, comes to it with a long history of engagement with young people through faith-based and community organizations. With a “passion for finding God in the stories of other people,” Chambliss is clear about the innovative and investigative dimensions of the work. “I’m excited to support young people in their ministry. It will help me take myself more seriously as a Christian and will also create an opportunity to learn together how we can lead resurrected lives, creating the kingdom of God here on earth.” Interested in young adult ministry that “truly listens first,” Chambliss says that the Relational Evangelism Pilot Project is about engagement, not conversion. “It is God who does the converting,” she says, “relational evangelism is about us having a deep enough relationship that others want to join with us.” The Relational Evangelism Pilot Project is based in the virtues of Christian spirituality, simple living, and forming community. The project is also based in the belief that young adults generally relate more freely to individuals than to institutions and focuses on three interrelated groups: young adults who have no relationship to the institutional church, those who have a peripheral relationship with the church, and those already involved but who are seeking more support regarding their leadership role in the church. The project places young adult “evangelists” at sites around the diocese, including congregations and university chaplaincies. Each of the evangelists is hired to work for 20 hours per week for 1-2 years under the supervision of clergy who serve at the site. Their task is to build relationships with other young adults and to find out more about their academic, career, social, and spiritual needs. From there, the evangelists will build a leadership team of five young adults who will facilitate small group-based ministry and faith-based action projects. Sustainability of the project is based on the premise that a core group of young adult leaders will remain at each site after the original evangelist’s term of service is complete. Chambliss hopes that the Relational Evangelism Pilot Project will provide young adults with the spiritual direction they need at crucial points in their lives. She also hopes that the project will not only enhance young adult ministry in congregations and chaplaincies, but will serve as a model for other judicatories and congregations interested in engaging a new generation. “Not only does evangelism mean sharing the good news of the gospel, but it also means sharing the good news of people’s lives and what we can do together in the world to demonstrate the power of our faith,” says Chambliss. “We are viewing evangelism as a spiritual practice emanating from our deep gratitude of God’s presence in our lives. It is my hope that the young adults involved in this ministry will see the good news in each other, find the community they are searching for, and embark on a spiritual path that will engage them more deeply with God, each other, and the world.” Authentic community, rather than church attendance, is a key focus of relational evangelism and an important factor in the growth of intentional communities interested in being the church. For instance, The Restoration Project is an intentional, ecumenical community in Tucson, Arizona, founded largely by young adults around the values of hospitality, simple and sustainable living, playful spirituality, and peaceful, prophetic action. The community of The Restoration Project sponsors an open meal once a week, keeps a room open for hospitality, works in solidarity with those on the margins, throws parties, and lavishly invites people into their home and their lives. Carol Bradsen, a co-founder of the community, admits to a lot of aversion to the term “evangelism” when it is used to turn Christianity into a product and evangelism as a way to sell it. “To me, following Jesus is about being,” says Bradsen. “It’s about being part of the family of God and the new way of living that naturally unfolds from this. It’s about being a good neighbor. It’s about inviting people to be part of community and to share in the joy of abundant life that comes from living with kingdom values.” Another of The Restoration Project community’s co-founders, Kate Bradsen, notes that the group has no church growth “marketing strategy.” Rather, “we believe if we take care of the depth of our ministry, spiritual lives and relationships that God will take care of the breadth of our ministry.” “It’s not about making new believers, but about creating the kingdom,” says Gretchen Larson-Wolbrink, also a founding member of The Restoration Project community. For example, Carol Bradsen shares the story of a neighborhood potluck sponsored by the community. Some of the visitors saw the invitation on the neighborhood list-serve and invited friends to come as well. Many were young adults and wanted to know more about this group and what it was doing in the community. “We did not throw that party so people would ask these questions. That wasn’t our motivation,” she says. “We threw a backyard potluck because that’s the kind of thing we like to do. Jesus went to a lot of parties, so we are in good company there. I believe that a good dinner party can be a sign that the kingdom is among us—it’s a place where all are welcome and there is enough for everyone. The thing is, that night we experienced abundant life together.” Beyond individual and community-based approaches with young adults, the Internet and, more recently, social media provide powerful tools to support relational evangelism. Thom Chu, a faith-based organizational developer specializing in generational studies, recently completed a one-year project with the United Church of Christ researching a comprehensive mission strategy for the denomination’s work with youth and young adults. Chu is also a faculty member of the United Church of Christ’s Web University, focusing on reaching young adults through the Internet. Through face-to-face meetings and internet surveys, Chu found that the single most popular venue for relational evangelism with young adults is on the internet, specifically through social media, such as Facebook. According to Chu, Facebook is the second or third most frequented website in the United States today and an important evangelistic tool capable of an incredibly broad reach of constituents with the added capacity to explore deep topics. Chu’s approach relies on young people’s individual friend requests (as an adult he never solicits Facebook friendships with minors or anyone he is serving in ministry), and over the course of two years he has accumulated nearly 1,000 friends. Every day on his virtual visitation schedule, Chu posts inspirational birthday greetings, puts a thumbs-up on photos, and views video clips of mutual concern in a manner he considers “the spiritual practice of benediction.” Through the medium of Facebook, Thom Chu believes he is able “to combine enthusiasm (remember its etymology of ‘God in us’), hospitality, celebration and joy, creativity and curiosity, and compassion and justice-making in short messages reaching through the ether.” Some of his most effective communications through Facebook are not necessarily with young adults who regularly attend church, or even who identify as Christians, but with those who are drawn to the depth of thought and meaning of spiritual teachers that they read in various posts. Some of Chu’s Facebook contacts have also resulted in visits to local congregations. Nancy Davidge, a marketing communications consultant based in Marblehead, Massachusetts with a specialty in helping religious organizations and other nonprofits use social media, suggests that the good news has always been spread by the social media of the time. Today, many congregations have at their disposal a variety of accessible and inexpensive communications tools to help them build community through relational evangelism. Yet Davidge notes that while many congregations use tools such as email, websites, Facebook, blogs, and Twitter, they may still be missing an opportunity to build a long term relationship with people. “It is important that churches think strategically about how to electronically engage new members who join the community, to identify their interests, and to build relationship by sharing the congregation’s mission and offering ways for a newcomer to become involved,” says Davidge. “While the media may have changed, the importance of telling your story in ways that engage and invite remains the same.” Thom Chu’s research on youth and young adults affirms the importance of intentionally building community through social media in such a way that enables users to read the depth of the message “amid the morass of multiple messages.” In this way, he defines relational evangelism as “the task and the gift of persistently acknowledging and attending to God’s presence in daily environments.” Individuals model this by demonstrating authenticity and vulnerability within a public framework, such as Facebook, that for Chu includes “care of creation, compassion for others, and self-care.” He sees the role of relational evangelism in a religiously pluralistic age as one that respects other living faiths, but at the same time shares Christ’s story and encourages others to engage with it and their own story. “I consider myself an evangelist as part of a complete being responding to a God who made me, and I can’t resist the opportunity to share something this wonderful with others. I express this in many forms, tapping into spiritual practices ancient and modern, and do this in a persistent (not insistent), iterative way, incarnating a Christ who always shows up in the right place at the right time.” Miguelina Espinal, a young adult and the priest-in-charge of the Church of the Epiphany in Orange, New Jersey, echoes the importance of showing up in the right place at the right time in relational evangelism with young adults. “Relational evangelism is what Jesus did: eat, drink, laugh, and share with his followers,” she says. Emily Anna Perow, missioner for youth and young adults in the Episcopal Diocese of Connecticut, believes that who she is today is largely due to her experiences of relational evangelism. “I am who God has called me to be because others have listened to my story and shared their stories and share the gospel.” She believes that the “relational” in relational evangelism with young adults refers to the amount of time it takes to really listen to and get to know someone. “Jesus travelled the countryside sharing his story and relationship with his father and most importantly he truly listened to others and heard their doubts, concerns, fears, and joys. We must give others that same opportunity.” Lastly, relational evangelism is crucial in an age of religious pluralism. Rather than deny religious difference, relational evangelism equips young adults to be secure enough in talking about their own faith to engage actively and authentically in interreligious dialogue and community action for the common good. “Evangelism is about proclaiming God’s love for the ‘other,’” says Lisa Kimball, professor of Christian formation and congregational leadership at Virginia Theological Seminary, “It is not about keeping score of who is saved and who isn’t.” In fact, the spirit of mutuality and intentional listening characteristic of relational evangelism opens up the follower of Jesus to God’s love in a way that seeks deeper relationship with all of creation, and responds to the suffering of the world. In a religiously pluralistic world, relational evangelism contributes to the creation of healthy environments in which young adults listen to God at work in their lives and discern ways their gifts can contribute to the reign of God for all humankind. Sheryl A. Kujawa-Holbrook is the author of two books published by the Alban Institute and is professor of practical theology and religious education at Claremont School of Theology in Claremont, California. ______________NOTES 1 “Losing our religion,” The Week, November 6, 2009, p. 13. 2 “Generation Y Gets Involved,” USA Today (October 23, 2006). 3 David Gortner, Transforming Evangelism (New York: Church Publishing, 2008), p. 32.
Evangelism in the Twenty First Century…
Evangelism is a spiritual practice
Evangelism is the work of every generation.
Evangelism is based in a deinstitutionalized approach.
Evangelism is the work of individuals first (not programs or institutions).
Evangelism is based in the assumption that God is already present and active.
Evangelism is often found in community, and transforms our communities and personal lives….
Adapted from the work of David Gortner in Transforming Evangelism (New York: Church Publishing, 2008) 29.
Relational Evangelism as a Spiritual Practice involves…
Waking up to your life with all your senses attuned and your heart and mind ready to respond to the encounter of God’s loving work in your life and in the world;
Listening to hear the stories of transformation and learning to draw them out;
Telling your story to recognize the transformation in your own life;
Inviting people to join in God’s dream for their lives and our communities based on their passions and interests;
Adapted from the Relational Evangelism Pilot project of the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts
_________________________ Discussion Questions:
1. Reflect on your own faith journey. What are some of your own experiences of evangelism and how do they impact how you feel about evangelism today? If possible, compare and contrast both positive and challenging experiences.
2. The article refers to evangelism as a spiritual practice. How do you experience evangelism as spiritual practice? How might a sense of evangelism as a spiritual practice open up new perspectives for you?
3. As you reflect on your own adulthood, how did you experience the church? In what ways was the church present to your daily life? In what ways was the church irrelevant or challenging?
4. How are young adults present in the life of your congregation? In what ways are their gifts and leadership recognized and affirmed?
5. If evangelism is at first the work of individuals, what are some ways you are or might become a relational evangelist? What are some ways that relational evangelism might more fully become part of the life of your congregation?
The Turnaround Church is the story of Wollaston Congregational Church United Church of Christ, a 130-year-old congregation that once was thriving in ministry, membership, mission, music, and money. For half a century, however, the church had slowly declined and was considering closing its doors. The two dozen remaining members knew they had to change, but did not know how. They had very little money left, but they were willing to risk it all. With few resources, members hired Mary Louise Gifford, a new seminary graduate, to be their full-time minister. Wollaston is now a vibrant, Spirit-filled faith community-a turnaround church. Changes in worship, stewardship, and priorities, combined with the congregation's resilience and Gifford's optimistic leadership, have transformed this church. Gifford tells us how.
Addressing a wide audience, Gifford shows church leaders they have options and reason for hope. People in dying churches will find assurance that they are still a part of the body of Christ. Clergy serving these struggling churches will discover tools and resources to help them guide change. Judicatory leaders will appreciate an inspiring story they can tell about a church that turned around in spite of the odds. The Turnaround Church, while not a prescription for all churches, is a call to make long-lasting, life-sustaining changes.
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