PRACTICAL WISDOM FOR LEADING CONGREGATIONS
"Watchfulness" is a better word for leadership than "vision"
THE TRANSFORMATION OF DEAD SPACE TO SACRED SPACE HIGHLIGHTS A CRITICAL DISTINCTIONTHEOLOGICAL REFLECTION
Gannon Sims: “Watchfulness” is a better word for leadership than “vision”
THE TRANSFORMATION OF DEAD SPACE TO SACRED SPACE HIGHLIGHTS A CRITICAL DISTINCTIONTHEOLOGICAL REFLECTION
Gannon Sims: “Watchfulness” is a better word for leadership than “vision”
Watchfulness.
The word is carved on a pulpit in the chapel at the Baylor University Spiritual Life Center in Waco, Texas. Until two years ago this worship space was what interior designers call dead space. A couch here. A coffee table there. It reminded Chaplain Burt Burleson of a bank lobby.
Now there are kneelers. A basin and towel adorn a small table near the pulpit. There's nothing new about the large panes of clear glass -- a staple in modern buildings. They filtered natural light before. But now the space has focus and so does the light.
What was dead space is sacred space. Another corner of the world has encountered the reign of God in the right here and right now.
Such a transformation from dead space to sacred space should make us think. It might even make us watchful.
It's a good word for the church. In his instructions to the church at Colossae, Paul asks his readers to be watchful. Leadership trades more often in words like 'vision' and 'future.' These are not bad words. But sometimes our attempts to vision the future blur the world right before our eyes. Vision and future allude to coming events. They're like marks on a trajectory. Watchfulness is more than that. It's a constant state of being and becoming.
***
Watchfulness.
The word is carved on a pulpit in the chapel at the Baylor University Spiritual Life Center in Waco, Texas. Until two years ago this worship space was what interior designers call dead space. A couch here. A coffee table there. It reminded Chaplain Burt Burleson of a bank lobby.
Now there are kneelers. A basin and towel adorn a small table near the pulpit. There’s nothing new about the large panes of clear glass -- a staple in modern buildings. They filtered natural light before. But now the space has focus and so does the light.
What was dead space is sacred space. Another corner of the world has encountered the reign of God in the right here and right now.
Such a transformation from dead space to sacred space should make us think. It might even make us watchful.
It’s a good word for the church. In his instructions to the church at Colossae, Paul asks his readers to be watchful. Leadership trades more often in words like ‘vision’ and ‘future.’ These are not bad words. But sometimes our attempts to vision the future blur the world right before our eyes. Vision and future allude to coming events. They’re like marks on a trajectory. Watchfulness is more than that. It’s a constant state of being and becoming.
Dean Burleson looks out over the Baylor campus and wonders. What forms a community identity? What does this or that space mean? Burleson doesn’t always know. But he never stops wondering. While he wonders, in a dorm across campus, a group of students meets for Morning Prayer. The same day at noon in the place that used to look like a bank lobby, a group of faculty, staff and students also gathers for prayer. The tone of these gatherings contrasts with the surrounding culture. This is Texas. It’s a place where bigger is better. But on the surface at least, there is nothing big about these gatherings. They’re quiet and simple. They’re reflective and watchful.
When we watch we learn where the needs are and what questions to ask. We notice the patterns and movement in the sky as the sun touches the horizon and the world is aglow. Watchfulness tells us something about who we are and how we work. Even the most visionary among us must watch before determining the next steps.
This is how it is in institutional life. We can wonder what might be, but sooner or later we have to reckon with what is. While this might cause us to face up to dead space, watchfulness helps us discover the windows that have always been there and how they might bring focus to the light.
The word is carved on a pulpit in the chapel at the Baylor University Spiritual Life Center in Waco, Texas. Until two years ago this worship space was what interior designers call dead space. A couch here. A coffee table there. It reminded Chaplain Burt Burleson of a bank lobby.
Now there are kneelers. A basin and towel adorn a small table near the pulpit. There's nothing new about the large panes of clear glass -- a staple in modern buildings. They filtered natural light before. But now the space has focus and so does the light.
What was dead space is sacred space. Another corner of the world has encountered the reign of God in the right here and right now.
Such a transformation from dead space to sacred space should make us think. It might even make us watchful.
It's a good word for the church. In his instructions to the church at Colossae, Paul asks his readers to be watchful. Leadership trades more often in words like 'vision' and 'future.' These are not bad words. But sometimes our attempts to vision the future blur the world right before our eyes. Vision and future allude to coming events. They're like marks on a trajectory. Watchfulness is more than that. It's a constant state of being and becoming.
***
Watchfulness.
The word is carved on a pulpit in the chapel at the Baylor University Spiritual Life Center in Waco, Texas. Until two years ago this worship space was what interior designers call dead space. A couch here. A coffee table there. It reminded Chaplain Burt Burleson of a bank lobby.
Now there are kneelers. A basin and towel adorn a small table near the pulpit. There’s nothing new about the large panes of clear glass -- a staple in modern buildings. They filtered natural light before. But now the space has focus and so does the light.
What was dead space is sacred space. Another corner of the world has encountered the reign of God in the right here and right now.
Such a transformation from dead space to sacred space should make us think. It might even make us watchful.
It’s a good word for the church. In his instructions to the church at Colossae, Paul asks his readers to be watchful. Leadership trades more often in words like ‘vision’ and ‘future.’ These are not bad words. But sometimes our attempts to vision the future blur the world right before our eyes. Vision and future allude to coming events. They’re like marks on a trajectory. Watchfulness is more than that. It’s a constant state of being and becoming.
Dean Burleson looks out over the Baylor campus and wonders. What forms a community identity? What does this or that space mean? Burleson doesn’t always know. But he never stops wondering. While he wonders, in a dorm across campus, a group of students meets for Morning Prayer. The same day at noon in the place that used to look like a bank lobby, a group of faculty, staff and students also gathers for prayer. The tone of these gatherings contrasts with the surrounding culture. This is Texas. It’s a place where bigger is better. But on the surface at least, there is nothing big about these gatherings. They’re quiet and simple. They’re reflective and watchful.
When we watch we learn where the needs are and what questions to ask. We notice the patterns and movement in the sky as the sun touches the horizon and the world is aglow. Watchfulness tells us something about who we are and how we work. Even the most visionary among us must watch before determining the next steps.
This is how it is in institutional life. We can wonder what might be, but sooner or later we have to reckon with what is. While this might cause us to face up to dead space, watchfulness helps us discover the windows that have always been there and how they might bring focus to the light.
Read more from Gannon Sims »
IDEAS THAT IMPACT: THE WORLD AROUND US
Joy Skjegstad: Knowing your community, defining your mission
Knowing Your Community, Defining Your Mission by Ryn Nasser
It is pretty easy to stay within the four walls of the church and make assumptions about the lives of the people in the broader community. It is more difficult to actually build relationships with community residents and grow in your understanding of their needs and desires. It takes more time, too, but the benefits include ministries that better serve your community. ***
Getting to know the community that your congregation will focus on is a critical step in defining your mission. To start, work on getting answers to several key questions: What are the primary issues in your community? How do the people in the community want the church to respond to those issues? And probably most important: do the people in your community actually want the ministry you are proposing? Your congregation will be most successful if you can answer yes to this question.
It is pretty easy to stay within the four walls of the church and make assumptions about the lives of the people in the broader community. It is more difficult to actually build relationships with community residents and grow in your understanding of their needs and desires. It takes more time, too.
There are tremendous advantages, however, to building your congregation’s ministries on what the community says it wants. If you take the time to build these relationships, your congregation will focus its efforts on meeting unmet needs rather than duplicating what other groups are already doing. You will also have a strong foundation for sustaining your programs; strong relationships with your community make it easier to recruit participants and volunteers and raise money.
Sunny Kang, pastor of Woodland United Methodist Church in Duluth and a partnership advocate for the Self Development of People Committee (PCUSA), describes a process that one of his churches used to get to know the community:
Connect with key leaders of the community on a one-to-one basis and build relationships with them. They will be able to introduce you to others you need to know and will help educate you on the needs and desires of the community. Start by asking them to teach you about the community. Everyone likes to share what he or she knows. Key leaders could include:
_______________________________________
Adapted from Starting a Nonprofit at Your Church, copyright © 2002 by the Alban Institute. All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2008, the Alban Institute. All rights reserved. We encourage you to share Alban Weekly articles with your congregation. We gladly allow permission to reprint articles from the Alban Weekly for one-time use by congregations and their leaders when the material is offered free of charge. All we ask is that you write to us at alban@div.duke.edu and let us know how Alban Weekly is making an impact in your congregation. If you would like to use any other Alban material, or if your intended use of Alban Weekly does not fall within this scope, please submit our reprint permission request form.
It is pretty easy to stay within the four walls of the church and make assumptions about the lives of the people in the broader community. It is more difficult to actually build relationships with community residents and grow in your understanding of their needs and desires. It takes more time, too.
There are tremendous advantages, however, to building your congregation’s ministries on what the community says it wants. If you take the time to build these relationships, your congregation will focus its efforts on meeting unmet needs rather than duplicating what other groups are already doing. You will also have a strong foundation for sustaining your programs; strong relationships with your community make it easier to recruit participants and volunteers and raise money.
Sunny Kang, pastor of Woodland United Methodist Church in Duluth and a partnership advocate for the Self Development of People Committee (PCUSA), describes a process that one of his churches used to get to know the community:
A church I was pastor of did research for six months before we opened our doors to the community. We talked to the kids at the high school next door to the church and asked them, “What is the problem in the community, what can we do to help, how can we serve you?” They were real reticent at first, but eventually they did tell us “there are a few things you could do.”
We ended up opening the church to kids during lunch because there were 450 students in two of the lunch periods and the school could only accommodate 200 of them. So 200 to 250 kids had to leave the school building every day for lunch, even in 20-below-zero weather in the winter. So we opened our building and served lunch. It started slowly at first, but grew so that we had 250 to 350 kids in the church building every day during the week. Too many churches say, “We think the people in the community need this,” and they impose their value system on the people. Community residents often end up saying to the church, “Who asked you to do this?” You need to keep asking—is there a market for what we say the community might need?
So how can you get to know the community? I am not necessarily defining community as a geographic area, though many congregations are focused on a neighborhood, town, or region. Your community might be a certain group of people—for example, people living with HIV/AIDS. Here are some strategies to help you connect with the people your congregation aims to serve.Connect with key leaders of the community on a one-to-one basis and build relationships with them. They will be able to introduce you to others you need to know and will help educate you on the needs and desires of the community. Start by asking them to teach you about the community. Everyone likes to share what he or she knows. Key leaders could include:
- political leaders
- denominational staff
- pastors of other churches
- law enforcement officers
- staff at the neighborhood public school
- leaders of other congregations
- program specialists in the program area that is your focus (for example, youth development, family counseling, or chemical dependency treatment)
- Read the demographic data and relevant studies. Census data is valuable to ministries that are geographically based because it gives a breakdown of the area by age, race, gender, and income level. There may also be written assessments of the need you are trying to address, so you do not need to start from scratch. Public schools could have valuable demographic information on your community, as could the local chamber of commerce, business associations, or neighborhood groups. Searching the Internet may help you find university research on your focus area. You might be able to find studies and statistics on infant mortality, employment and graduation rates, or housing trends that could help you focus the mission of your congregation.
- Connect with the community through your church members. Members of your church may live in the area you aim to serve or work in professions that would provide needed contacts. For example, if your downtown church wants to provide an outreach to the business community through the congregation, business leaders in your church could help you accomplish your goal.
- Join community organizations or boards. If a group of people from the community is working on an issue you would like to address, consider joining the group. As you work side by side, you will hear community concerns articulated over and over again. You will also build new relationships with community leaders; for example, a crime task force for the neighborhood or town you hope to serve would be a great place to connect. Always ask: What can the church do to support the neighborhood?
- Attend community meetings. When community members get together for discussions or celebrations, make sure there is at least one member of your church in attendance. You may want to consider building a portable booth for community events to promote the visibility of the congregation.
- Walk around the community. There is no substitute for seeing the people of your community and their needs with your own eyes. If you are open to spontaneous conversations, you will learn a great deal from people you meet on the street. Find out where people “hang out” in your community—it could be the neighborhood park or the diner in your rural town. If your community is not geographically based, just plan on being in attendance whenever the people of your “community” get together. It might be a national conference on a particular topic or a denominational gathering.
- Gather the opinions of the community. If the people you want to serve have a positive impression of the church, they may be willing to participate in a survey or focus group. Invite some folks over for dinner at the church and ask them what they think. Brief door-to-door surveys might also do the trick. Try to find a volunteer who has the expertise to help you develop a survey. For instance, there may be someone in your congregation who has worked with focus groups. Also, your local neighborhood organization or United Way might be able to advise you on how to design a questionnaire. Questions for surveys or focus groups should focus around the questions: What do you see as the major issues for this community? How would you like to see this church respond to those issues? How can the church serve you?
_______________________________________
Adapted from Starting a Nonprofit at Your Church, copyright © 2002 by the Alban Institute. All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2008, the Alban Institute. All rights reserved. We encourage you to share Alban Weekly articles with your congregation. We gladly allow permission to reprint articles from the Alban Weekly for one-time use by congregations and their leaders when the material is offered free of charge. All we ask is that you write to us at alban@div.duke.edu and let us know how Alban Weekly is making an impact in your congregation. If you would like to use any other Alban material, or if your intended use of Alban Weekly does not fall within this scope, please submit our reprint permission request form.
Read more »
Jeffrey Jones: New questions for a new day
Jeffrey Jones: New questions for a new day
Jeffrey D. Jones: New Questions for a New Day by Ryn Nasser
It's time to start asking new questions. Better answers to the same old questions about the church will not get us through the tumultuous times in which we live. This is a time for out-of-the box thinking. Old questions keep is in the box. New questions invite us to move outside.
***
It’s time to start asking new questions. Better answers to the same old questions about the church will not get us through the tumultuous times in which we live. This is a time for out-of-the box thinking. Old questions keep is in the box. New questions invite us to move outside.
Phyllis Tickle, in The Great Emergence, talks about the need for today’s church to have a rummage sale so we can rid ourselves of all those practices, beliefs and ways of being that are no longer effective and get in the way of being the church we are called to be.
Many of the questions we have asked for centuries in the church need to be put in that rummage sale. They need to be replaced with new questions that lead us into new ways of being and doing – ways that are attuned to the time in which we live.
It’s not that the old questions weren’t valid at one time or even that they have no place in the church today. Rather, the new questions, if they are the questions that form our approach to ministry,will lead us to new insights and new learning.
One question that has been asked consistently through the years, and even more so in these days of declining church membership is, “How do we bring them in?” It would be better for us to ask, “How do we send them out?”
In these days of changing roles and responsibilities many wonder, “What should the pastor do?” But a more important question for congregations today is “What is our shared ministry?”
When congregations focus on strategic planning they ask, “What’s our vision and how do we implement it?” What would happen if they instead asked, “What’s God up to and how do we get on board?”
When congregations have financial struggles, they ask, “How do we survive?” Instead they might ask, “How do we serve?”
When congregations think about their mission, they often ask, “How do we save people?” or perhaps, “How do we help people?” A better question might be “How do we make the reign of God more present in this time and place?”
There are no “right” answers to these new questions that can be applied to all congregations. Every congregation needs to live with the questions, because it is only in living with them that new ways being and doing church emerge. The familiar line from Rainer Maria Rilke in Letters to a Young Poet can guide us: “Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, one distant day live right into the answer.”
If you ask these questions there is no assurance that you’ll find the way to renew, revitalize or redevelop your church. It may happen. But you may just as likely discover that asking these questions takes you down a road to some other alternative that you hadn’t even thought of before. What I feel pretty confident about, however, is that asking these new questions will bring us closer to discovering what God is seeking from us in this time. I also believe asking these new questions will help ensure that whatever the future holds for us and our congregations we will be more faithful in the work we are about right now.And that is a pretty wondrous thing!
Jeffrey D. Jones is a pastor in the American Baptist Church and the author of several books, including Heart, Mind, and Strength: Theory and Practice for Congregational Leadership. His latest book, Facing Decline, Finding Hope: New Possibilities for Faithful Churches, will be published by Alban Books in February 2015.
***
It’s time to start asking new questions. Better answers to the same old questions about the church will not get us through the tumultuous times in which we live. This is a time for out-of-the box thinking. Old questions keep is in the box. New questions invite us to move outside.
Phyllis Tickle, in The Great Emergence, talks about the need for today’s church to have a rummage sale so we can rid ourselves of all those practices, beliefs and ways of being that are no longer effective and get in the way of being the church we are called to be.
Many of the questions we have asked for centuries in the church need to be put in that rummage sale. They need to be replaced with new questions that lead us into new ways of being and doing – ways that are attuned to the time in which we live.
It’s not that the old questions weren’t valid at one time or even that they have no place in the church today. Rather, the new questions, if they are the questions that form our approach to ministry,will lead us to new insights and new learning.
One question that has been asked consistently through the years, and even more so in these days of declining church membership is, “How do we bring them in?” It would be better for us to ask, “How do we send them out?”
In these days of changing roles and responsibilities many wonder, “What should the pastor do?” But a more important question for congregations today is “What is our shared ministry?”
When congregations focus on strategic planning they ask, “What’s our vision and how do we implement it?” What would happen if they instead asked, “What’s God up to and how do we get on board?”
When congregations have financial struggles, they ask, “How do we survive?” Instead they might ask, “How do we serve?”
When congregations think about their mission, they often ask, “How do we save people?” or perhaps, “How do we help people?” A better question might be “How do we make the reign of God more present in this time and place?”
There are no “right” answers to these new questions that can be applied to all congregations. Every congregation needs to live with the questions, because it is only in living with them that new ways being and doing church emerge. The familiar line from Rainer Maria Rilke in Letters to a Young Poet can guide us: “Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, one distant day live right into the answer.”
If you ask these questions there is no assurance that you’ll find the way to renew, revitalize or redevelop your church. It may happen. But you may just as likely discover that asking these questions takes you down a road to some other alternative that you hadn’t even thought of before. What I feel pretty confident about, however, is that asking these new questions will bring us closer to discovering what God is seeking from us in this time. I also believe asking these new questions will help ensure that whatever the future holds for us and our congregations we will be more faithful in the work we are about right now.And that is a pretty wondrous thing!
Jeffrey D. Jones is a pastor in the American Baptist Church and the author of several books, including Heart, Mind, and Strength: Theory and Practice for Congregational Leadership. His latest book, Facing Decline, Finding Hope: New Possibilities for Faithful Churches, will be published by Alban Books in February 2015.
What if times change so much that our original mission starts to look like a mistake? Is it possible that our mission -- as stated in the mission statement or as lived in our daily practices -- needs to be changed? If so, what then?
***
***
In theory, everything a congregation does should serve its mission. Traditional strategic planning starts with a mission statement and progresses through strategic vision, goals, objectives, timelines, budgets, and a tagline for the T-shirts—each expressing and reflecting the mission. If leaders have to choose between what they personally prefer and what the mission calls for, their obligation is to pick the mission. Members, too, when they vote in congregational meetings, hold the congregation in trust—not for themselves, but for the mission.
Fidelity to mission assures donors that their gifts will serve the same ideals that motivated them to give. Some donors try to take control, writing elaborate restrictions, hoping to require the institution—even after they are dead—to do as it is told. But most donors—whether of a dollar in the plate or a bequest of millions—rely on the institution’s understanding of its mission to provide a sense of continuity or even permanence, as times change.
But what if times change so much that the original mission starts to look like a mistake? “New occasions teach new duties,” says Lowell’s familiar hymn, and “time makes ancient good uncouth.” Uncouth was a strong word back in 1845, but Lowell was protesting major evils: slavery and the war with Mexico, whose ban on slavery in Texas partly prompted the U.S. invasion. Lowell was suggesting that the nation needed to change its mind about some of its most basic values.
Could a church or synagogue face a similar about-face? Is it possible that our mission—as stated in the mission statement or as lived in our daily practices—needs to be changed?
I’m not talking about small tweaks. Any mission statement needs to be restated now and then—updating the language and correcting errors. Leaders owe their loyalty to the mission, not the mission statement. If the current generation thinks it can state the mission better, they should try. But what if the mission itself—the bedrock of principle on which the institution stands—needs radical revising?
This is not as far-fetched as it may seem. Almost any congregation that has passed its hundredth birthday regularly violates some of its founders’ cherished values. Some of our country’s oldest churches once advocated slavery or witch-burning. Some newer ones were founded in a moment of zeal for a principle—not using pipe organs in worship, not admitting members without full immersion, not ordaining homosexuals—that soon seem, if not uncouth, at least odd or antiquated.
And so our discipline of church strategic planning needs to allow for the possibility that the most cherished principles of the founders or the current members may come into question. Rational planning—the kind that begins with a mission statement and proceeds logically to produce goals, objectives, and work plans—will not do when the frame itself is bent. Rewriting the mission statement is a good way to refresh a mission that has gone stale—but it fails to solve the problem of a mission that has gone toxic in the icebox.
I have worked as a consultant with a number of congregations that were founded from a split. At least one of the resulting bodies almost always has an unstated mission that says, “We are the church of NOT THEM.” A negative mission has great unifying power—for a while—but means less to newcomers. Sooner or later, a congregation has to organize for something. Congregations born of division often need to re-found themselves a few years or a generation later. It is not an easy process. Congregations often fizzle out rather than swallow pride and say, “It’s not enough to be holier than those we split from. To thrive long-term, we need to be called into the service of a purpose greater than ourselves.”
Inevitably, someone mentions money. “People gave this building/organ/fund because they trusted that the church would remain true to its original faith. You may be right that we would be more relevant if we changed, but our duty is to keep trust with the donors.” This argument is not without merit, but I’ve noticed that it rarely is the actual donors making it.
Once I helped a small church that had a hard time making a decision—any decision—and then carrying it out. I suggested that the governing board choose one modest, non-controversial goal. They did: the entrance to the church was almost invisible because a large tree had grown right in the doorway. The board approved the project, assigned it to a trusted leader, and approved the funds and the authority to remove the tree.
A few weeks later, I returned to lead a gathering on another subject and I asked how the tree project was coming. Apparently a small group in the congregation protested the removal on the grounds that,
1.) Trees are good, and
2.) This tree was a memorial.
My gathering turned into a forum on this issue. Eventually I was inspired to ask, “Who is the tree a memorial to?” After a brief pause, the protesters with a single voice said, “We can’t remember.”
Donors give their gifts in support of mission, but they give them to a living congregation. Re-founding requires looking beyond the words of the old mission statement. It requires the courage to question the founding principles themselves in the name of loyalties and values deeper than the ones we know how to articulate. More often than not, re-founding requires taking a critical look at the founders’ own anxieties and prejudices, and embracing a wider concept of the mission they glimpsed only narrowly. I have read many local histories of churches that split during the 1800’s over whether to play an organ in worship. Within a decade, the non-organ-playing church—if it survived at all—installed an organ bigger than the one in the old church!
Congregations that divide this year over our current version of the organ issue (snare drums, this time) will find themselves going through a similar process. After a time, the surface issue goes away, and the hard work that remains is to dig below the mission as once stated to the deeper sources of our calling.
Repenting of an ancient mission is not easy, whether it is written in a covenant or mission statement, or simply graven in the lineaments of history (“We’re the church that adds a building to our campus every twenty years.”) Like every major planning triumph, a successful re-founding prompts some members to depart. Not every congregation that tries re-found will survive. But some do, and in the process glimpse a little of the light that helps us find the next path as we make our way together through a changing world.
__________________________________________________________
Dan Hotchkiss is a senior consultant with the Alban Institute. “When the Mission Changes” originally appeared in the November/December 2011 issue of Clergy Journal(logosproductions.com).Read more »
FROM THE ALBAN LIBRARY
Fidelity to mission assures donors that their gifts will serve the same ideals that motivated them to give. Some donors try to take control, writing elaborate restrictions, hoping to require the institution—even after they are dead—to do as it is told. But most donors—whether of a dollar in the plate or a bequest of millions—rely on the institution’s understanding of its mission to provide a sense of continuity or even permanence, as times change.
But what if times change so much that the original mission starts to look like a mistake? “New occasions teach new duties,” says Lowell’s familiar hymn, and “time makes ancient good uncouth.” Uncouth was a strong word back in 1845, but Lowell was protesting major evils: slavery and the war with Mexico, whose ban on slavery in Texas partly prompted the U.S. invasion. Lowell was suggesting that the nation needed to change its mind about some of its most basic values.
Could a church or synagogue face a similar about-face? Is it possible that our mission—as stated in the mission statement or as lived in our daily practices—needs to be changed?
I’m not talking about small tweaks. Any mission statement needs to be restated now and then—updating the language and correcting errors. Leaders owe their loyalty to the mission, not the mission statement. If the current generation thinks it can state the mission better, they should try. But what if the mission itself—the bedrock of principle on which the institution stands—needs radical revising?
This is not as far-fetched as it may seem. Almost any congregation that has passed its hundredth birthday regularly violates some of its founders’ cherished values. Some of our country’s oldest churches once advocated slavery or witch-burning. Some newer ones were founded in a moment of zeal for a principle—not using pipe organs in worship, not admitting members without full immersion, not ordaining homosexuals—that soon seem, if not uncouth, at least odd or antiquated.
And so our discipline of church strategic planning needs to allow for the possibility that the most cherished principles of the founders or the current members may come into question. Rational planning—the kind that begins with a mission statement and proceeds logically to produce goals, objectives, and work plans—will not do when the frame itself is bent. Rewriting the mission statement is a good way to refresh a mission that has gone stale—but it fails to solve the problem of a mission that has gone toxic in the icebox.
I have worked as a consultant with a number of congregations that were founded from a split. At least one of the resulting bodies almost always has an unstated mission that says, “We are the church of NOT THEM.” A negative mission has great unifying power—for a while—but means less to newcomers. Sooner or later, a congregation has to organize for something. Congregations born of division often need to re-found themselves a few years or a generation later. It is not an easy process. Congregations often fizzle out rather than swallow pride and say, “It’s not enough to be holier than those we split from. To thrive long-term, we need to be called into the service of a purpose greater than ourselves.”
Inevitably, someone mentions money. “People gave this building/organ/fund because they trusted that the church would remain true to its original faith. You may be right that we would be more relevant if we changed, but our duty is to keep trust with the donors.” This argument is not without merit, but I’ve noticed that it rarely is the actual donors making it.
Once I helped a small church that had a hard time making a decision—any decision—and then carrying it out. I suggested that the governing board choose one modest, non-controversial goal. They did: the entrance to the church was almost invisible because a large tree had grown right in the doorway. The board approved the project, assigned it to a trusted leader, and approved the funds and the authority to remove the tree.
A few weeks later, I returned to lead a gathering on another subject and I asked how the tree project was coming. Apparently a small group in the congregation protested the removal on the grounds that,
1.) Trees are good, and
2.) This tree was a memorial.
My gathering turned into a forum on this issue. Eventually I was inspired to ask, “Who is the tree a memorial to?” After a brief pause, the protesters with a single voice said, “We can’t remember.”
Donors give their gifts in support of mission, but they give them to a living congregation. Re-founding requires looking beyond the words of the old mission statement. It requires the courage to question the founding principles themselves in the name of loyalties and values deeper than the ones we know how to articulate. More often than not, re-founding requires taking a critical look at the founders’ own anxieties and prejudices, and embracing a wider concept of the mission they glimpsed only narrowly. I have read many local histories of churches that split during the 1800’s over whether to play an organ in worship. Within a decade, the non-organ-playing church—if it survived at all—installed an organ bigger than the one in the old church!
Congregations that divide this year over our current version of the organ issue (snare drums, this time) will find themselves going through a similar process. After a time, the surface issue goes away, and the hard work that remains is to dig below the mission as once stated to the deeper sources of our calling.
Repenting of an ancient mission is not easy, whether it is written in a covenant or mission statement, or simply graven in the lineaments of history (“We’re the church that adds a building to our campus every twenty years.”) Like every major planning triumph, a successful re-founding prompts some members to depart. Not every congregation that tries re-found will survive. But some do, and in the process glimpse a little of the light that helps us find the next path as we make our way together through a changing world.
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Dan Hotchkiss is a senior consultant with the Alban Institute. “When the Mission Changes” originally appeared in the November/December 2011 issue of Clergy Journal(logosproductions.com).Read more »
FROM THE ALBAN LIBRARY
Lending Your Leadership: How Pastors are Redefining Their Role in Community Life by Nelson GranadeAs America faces great change, we must find new ways of cooperating with one another to solve problems beyond our individual control. As leaders of one of the largest pools of community capital -- our congregations -- pastors have both the opportunity and the skills to help guide local communities through transitions and to help cast a vision of renewed communities. At the heart of Granade's book is a firm belief that clergy can play a unique leadership role in community life. He encourages clergy to reclaim that role and to share with their communities a message of hope: God still cares and is involved in the life of individuals, families, communities, and the world.
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Alban at Duke Divinity School
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