Emerging

I Understand Why Others Are Leaving: This Is Why I'm Staying

By Dr. Mark Poindexter

Recently, a parishioner who happens to be a former congregational pastor sent me something that he found in the magazine Christianity Today.  It is actually a piece of information that I came across in The Christian Century as well.  It is a quote from John Longhurst on research about why people are leaving the church (CC: April 16, 2014, p. 9). 

Evangelicals are leaving the church because they are angry.  Roman Catholics are leaving because they feel betrayed.  And mainline Christians? They’re leaving because they’re bored.

That quote appeared on a page that featured a bar graph about the “Decline of Institutions” with all the appropriate sociological descriptions for each age group – Millennials (18-33), Gen X (34-49), Boomers (50-68), and the Silent Generation (69-86).  The Builders (WW II generation) have finally fallen off the graph. So there exists only one group (Silent Generation) between my group (Boomers) and the end.  I hope the Silent folk hang around for a long time to come – I just hope they can find something to say.   Of course, the graph shows that the younger groups are much less inclined to participate in the institutions that the older groups have given much significant time and energy.  It is most likely that anyone reading this post is at least somewhat aware of “institutional decline.”

Over the past few weeks, I have also come across a number of stories of people of faith leaving the church because they have felt as if the church was hindering the growth of their faith. Their experience of church was one in which they did not find the presence of Christ. The sense of the Sacred was absent for them within the institution.  I read of one person who said that she was actually leaving the church so that “she could find Christ.” The telling of these stories almost always include the painful way that folks have been treated by others in the church.

Well, having been part of the “institutional church” for most of my life, (I have a problem with the way “institution” is most often used and understood in description of the church, but that’s another article) I thought that I would tell you why I have stuck it out.  I have written earlier about why I stayed with the life of faith, but this different.  This is about why I have stayed in the church.  First, however, I want to say that I recognize and honor the reasons others have chosen to leave.  I’ll readily admit that some of the ways church has been practiced can leave people with feelings of anger, betrayal and boredom.  I’ll acknowledge that some people and groups of people have been treated awful by the church – that the place of love and grace has been toward some a place of judgment and exclusion.  Let’s be honest.  The church has its fair share of people who can be real jerks (substitute any four-letter description you feel led to use).  After thirty years in ministry, I’ve met plenty of them.  They are people who, for whatever reason, believe that their obnoxious behavior toward others is something that Christ does not need to transform.  Such folks can cause significant damage to an entire congregation if they get into a position of leadership.  And they do get into leadership positions because too often the church simply looks for folks who are willing to say “yes,” instead of folks who are truly gifted to lead.  So for those who have been mistreated or seen the church mistreat others and feel betrayed and angry enough to leave, I understand.  And for those who are simply bored with the fact that too many times the church focuses on matters that don’t really matter, I get it.  I know why you have left.  Truth is, I have been close, very close, to walking out the door with you.  But I haven’t and here is why.

Yes, there are some real jerks in church. I know some by name.  But I have also found a lot of really good people in the church too.  People who are seriously concerned about doing what is right and striving to follow Christ in this day and time.  I was just in a meeting with one of the saints of our present congregation.  An 89 year old man by the name of Hoby.  Hoby is one of the kindest, gentlest, most honorable people I have ever met.  He still gives leadership in our church in many ways and presides at the Lord’s Table.  He greets everyone with a deep sense of humility and genuineness. He has a gentle, welcoming hug that embraces all.  Not too long ago, in a meeting around an important matter that involved some significant change for our church, I heard this wise old gentleman say, “Well, we better listen to what the younger folks are saying because we want them here.”  The meeting went silent after Hoby spoke, because everyone knew he spoke the truth.  Throughout my time in the church I’ve met a lot of folks like Hoby – John Ross, Bob and Barb Miller, Bob and Anna McDaniel, Rich Davis, Doc Martin – just to name a very few. I could name many more.  People who have blessed my life.  People who have helped me to experience the presence of the living Christ.  People who have helped me to remember the Sacred reality of life and given me and my family the opportunity to give and receive love.  Such folks help to balance out those who aren’t as kind or caring, or just plain mean.  I don’t let those folks zap my energy or take my attention anymore.  If that starts to happen I think how blessed I have been to have people like Hoby in my life.  The place I met Hoby, and all the others like him, is in the church. 

Another reason I have stayed with the church is because, as much as I love sports and good weather, I need something else to talk about.  I want to talk about meaning and purpose and what really matters in life and the church has been a place for me to do that.  In the church we can and should talk about such things as what is right and what is wrong and how we arrive at our conclusions.  We can and should talk about our own mortality and what that means for how we live.  We can and should talk about what it means to care for each other and all others.  We can and should talk about overcoming prejudice and not living in fear of one another.   I need some depth in life and maybe because I as a pastor have pushed the envelope at times, the church has been a place where that desire for depth has been explored.  Not too long ago, I was leading a class and some of the folks were sharing from a very deep place about their own lives and I can remember being moved to tears.  Not so much by their stories, but by the fact that a safe place had been created where they felt it was okay to share that part of themselves.  I understand why some folks have left out of boredom.  Too often the church steers away from important matters because they are either afraid that someone will be offended or because they don’t want to deal with the different opinions that can arise.  But if we don’t talk about matters of importance, I don’t know what it is we are to spend our time talking about. 

Finally, I have stayed in the church because, honestly, I don’t know where else to go. I crave human community and a sense of connection. I desire to live life in such a way that I feel like I am making a difference and, for me, that means following Jesus and being a part of that group of people who are seeking to follow him as well.  If I were to leave the “institutional church,” I would look for another group of folks who were on this same path and once I found them – that would be church too.  I’ve decided to stick it out in the church, because I think, if I left, I’d just find church somewhere else. 

So, that’s why I’ve stayed.  Folks like Hoby, who truly loves Jesus and strives to love others.  Such people in the church have fed my faith, immensely more than others have diminished it.  Because I get to have conversations with people on topics that matter.  And then, after our conversation, roll up our sleeves and get to the work that matters.  And because I don’t know where else I would go.   So, I’ve stayed with the church and I think it has been a good decision for me.  It has helped me to be a better person and helped me to work toward a better world. 

But I want to make something clear, though I have stayed in the church, I have not given the church my heart and I won’t.  My heart, the deepest part of me, belongs to another.  And I will explain what I mean by that next week.  

Rethinking Routine

By Rev. Mindi

As a mom of a child with special needs, I understand the importance of routine, stability, and predictability. It’s comfortable, it’s familiar, and it’s simply what one knows. But over time, even the routine needs a little mixing up now and then, because what ends up happening is not the routine you first established, but a second routine that emerges. This second routine creeps up on you out of nowhere. One day you have activities scheduled out—a good healthy mix of physical play, one-on-one learning, quiet time, therapies, etc. You bring in music and reading and flashcards and the latest technology. But over time, quiet time turns into putting-on-a-DVD-so-mom-can-take-a-shower, music time turns into putting-on-Steve-Songs-because-it-makes-my-child-happy, physical play is going-to-the-park-and-running-while-mom-checks-her-emails-on-her-phone, and so on and so forth. There are some things still established: regular appointments with therapists, regular play groups, etc, but other things fall through the cracks over time. The second routine emerges accidentally, without thought, and while it resembles the intentions of the first, it is not the first.

This is what I believe happens often in our churches.  The first routine that was established: the worship service, the education programs, the outreach opportunities, the fellowship events—these were all great ideas and worked well at the time. But over time, the routine has slipped away into finding a program for our kids and filling teaching positions with volunteers that are reluctant to step up, dropping away from outreach unless someone can come up with a new idea, reducing fellowship to coffee hour and doing the same order of worship that we’ve done for the past forty years.  At times we manage to shake up one thing—try moving the Sunday school hour, try contemporary music instead of traditional hymns—but we haven’t looked over the whole routine.

When I realize as a parent we’ve gone into the second routine, I try to go back to the beginning—not to the first routine, but I try to go back and see where things started to slip up and look at the root of routine change. It may be that the first routine set up was too rigid, too structured. It may be that what once worked for my son (such as a particular CD) has become boring and he won’t pay attention any longer, or a certain system for communication isn’t working any longer. We have to rethink how we do that part of the routine, and in rethinking that part, I may have to rethink the whole thing.

As a church, it may be it’s time to rethink the whole thing. Is worship really the central part of who we are? Do we still count attendance by how many are sitting in the pews on Sunday, or do we think of all the people we’ve reached out to during the week (which also leads us to ask the question, should be concerned about numbers anyway)?  What is our goal, our purpose, our vision? If it is to share the message of God’s love through Jesus Christ, is that best done through a worship service on a Sunday morning, or through volunteering time at a food pantry on Saturday afternoon? Does Christian education have to take place on a weekly basis in classrooms or Children’s Church, or can it take place alongside parents and other adults volunteering, or at a playground, or at a coffee shop (or ice-cream parlor—I used to do my Baptism classes at a local frozen yogurt shop!)

What is your church’s routine? What was its original intention, and what does it look like now? Is it time to rethink your routine?

Killing Church Committees and Other Reflections on Church Organization

Here is the first in our series of "best of" articles for 2011, which first appeared on September 12.  It was written by Derek Penwell.  Enjoy!

Make sure to read the next articles in this series on church organization: Killing the Whispers and Other Reflections on Church Decision-MakingCrack Addiction and Church TransformationOn Dating, Neediness, and Congregational Transformation, and Death of a Salesman . . . Please?

Do We Have to Look Like a Fortune 500 Company?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the way churches organize their common lives. Part of my D.Min. project centered on reexamining that most ubiquitous form church organization—the “functional church” model.

In a post-World War II era, when the country was heavily invested in manufacturing as the life-blood of the economy the functional church model–based on the industrial organizational model, which privileges efficiency and production–appeared perfectly natural … almost like the universe itself was organized that way. So, when churches started to have a “board of directors” that oversaw the work of “departments” and “committees,” modeled after the indisputable success of Ford and GM, it seemed to make good “business sense.” In fact, early visionaries of this model of church organization went so far as to understand the church’s work to be production, not of durable or household goods, but of “spiritual” goods.

In a society where manufacturing drives the economic machine, efficiency and production are the metric by which success is measured. Henry Ford, an early industrial innovator, sought new ways of manufacturing cars more quickly and efficiently. He “combined precision manufacturing, standardized and interchangeable parts, and a division of labor.” It was possible to assemble a vehicle on an assembly line, in which people were given single tasks and asked to perform them repeatedly—without necessarily having any larger sense of how the car fit together as a whole. This allowed for an amazingly efficient process that boosted output, while keeping costs down.

As one might expect, these new manufacturing methods spurred innovation among organizational thinkers. “If we can break down the assembly of a car into a manageable number of discrete actions on the assembly line, carried out by people trained to do a repeated action, surely there must be newer and better ways to arrange the business side of things more efficiently.” So, methods of business organization were developed to ensure efficient production through standardized and interchangeable parts and a division of labor. Companies found they needed whole divisions dedicated to overseeing particular aspects of the business. It just made more sense to have operations managers freed up from the worries associated with accounting or maintenance or human resources. In fact, whole departments became necessary, which did not require as a condition of completing their tasks, that anyone in the department would know the first thing about cars.

And this arrangement worked quite well when it came to running companies dedicated to producing cars, or sewing machines, or Red Ryder BB guns. But its applicability to the church raises some serious issues.1

The functional church model, though arguably distorting the gospel by turning it into a purchasable product, seemed to work as a tool to organize the life and work of the church. And when churches, alongside their manufacturing counterparts, were booming, organizing like a successful business made practical sense—it was a culturally recognizable form, whose success seemed to make it the only sensible way to organize. With churches busting at the seams attracting new members in post-war America, there were plenty of people to fill out the church’s organizational chart. It was neat. It was recognizable. And it worked.

So, what are you driving at Professor Pedantic?

Ok. Thank you for putting up with the history lesson.

A few important things have changed, both in the nature of the foundations of Western economies and in the life and cultural status of the church. Our economy is no longer a manufacturing economy. This presents a problem, since though we aren’t making as much stuff, we’re still training people in institutions formulated originally to produce factory workers—that is, obedient and productive people always looking for the affirmation of the people put in charge of them. (See Seth Godin’s great book, Linchpin.) Christian ministry, by its very nature, needs creative leaders—which, because of an older model of church organization, often punishes the people best suited to the kind of innovative adventure the church finds itself on at present.

Moreover, the culture, which during the mid-twentieth century was friendly to the church, has since fallen out of love with it. People increasingly quit coming—especially young people. The precipitous decline in church membership has left most churches with only fond (but distant) memories of the halcyon days. Fewer members in this case mean a lack of people to populate the numerous departments, boards, and committees that we’ve grown to feel are necessary to the existence and operation of any self-respecting church. Churches have fewer people, but the same number of bureaucratic spots to fill; and the inability to fill them causes not only feelings of anxiety (“We have to have the committees staffed, because …”), but also feelings of inadequacy (“Surely all the other church have fully staffed committees.”).

But why do we need all of these committees? Committees, generally speaking, are themselves hugely inefficient.

In order to justify their existence and the feeling that if there’s a committee, it ought be doing something, committees call meetings. These meetings—which are often convened, not because there’s anything in particular to do (or even plan to do), but because it’s the first Monday of the month, and that’s always when the Education committee meets—are often filled with hand-wringing about the fact that, either they can’t find anyone to chair the committee or they can’t recruit anyone else to take an interest in serving on the committee, or they feel like there’s some worthwhile project the church should undertake. So, much of the meeting turns to questions about what it should do.

Then, someone will have a great idea. “Let’s start a __.” Everyone agrees what a wonderful and noble idea it is. Meetings are set up to plan this exciting new foray into _____. Brilliant ideas are put on “to-do” lists, calendars are synced. The excitement is palpable.

Then, comes that awkward point in the meeting when some intrepid soul ventures, “This is great … but who’s going to be responsible for doing all the things we’ve said?” Uncomfortable silence. Then, somebody says, “Well, I guess we’ll need to ask for volunteers. We could put it in the bulletin and the newsletter.” A sigh of relief goes up, as if to say, “We’ve done everything we can do.”

So, this brilliant idea goes through the ordinary channels, soliciting volunteers. It appears in the bulletin and the newsletter. The committee chairperson stands up on Sunday morning before worship and announces, “We need help with a new project. We’re really excited about it. If anyone’s interested, please see me after church.”

What happens? Nobody volunteers, and a good idea eventually dies from inattention, morale plummets, and it will be a long time before anyone gets excited about the prospect of rolling the programmatic rock up the hill again.

In business, it’s (at least) possible for people on committees and in departments to dream up new initiatives, and then compel people to carry them out—a highly touted virtue of the manufacturing model is compliance, remember. But in church, people can say no, or, more likely but no less devastatingly, people can say nothing.

In the world in which we live, people are busy. Most pre-retirement households require that both partners work, rendering one prolific source of mid-twentieth century volunteerism—namely, housewives—anomalous. Because of the economy and the vast increases in education debt, young people (Millennials and Gen Xers) regularly have to work more than 40 hours (which as a concept was, not coincidentally, negotiated largely by union workers in factories to help keep them from being worked to death). And, if there are children in the household mix, time is even more precious.

Consequently, one of the complaints routinely made by older members in churches–namely, that the generations following behind don’t seem to be picking up the ball–fails to consider a couple of things. First, working people in younger generations often don’t have the same number of hours to commit to a community organized around committee meetings as their predecessors did. If economic pressures force you to work 50, 60, 70 hours a week, the last thing you want to do is to go sit in a meeting—much of which will be spent either complaining about the lack of participation or trying to figure out what to do, and who’s going to do it.

Second, young people don’t have the same emotional investment in the programs and initiatives that proved so successful and rewarding to the generations that came before. Rightly or wrongly, what young people hear when churches appeal for help is: “We need more bodies to do stuff we thought up when we were your age, but no longer have the energy to do ourselves.” Instead of reassessing why there is no energy behind beloved programs, dropping them, and looking for those places where there is energy, churches often note the lack of energy, and then try to generate it by appealing to tradition, faithfulness, involvement, etc. Again, rightly or wrongly, young people apparently aren’t interested in propping up programs they had no hand in forming. They have neither the time nor the inclination to do work somebody else is passionate about, just because there are folks who feel strongly that it ought to be done, but are no longer able to do it themselves.2

That is not to say, however, that young people are lazy and apathetic. On the contrary, young people by most sociological measures are interested in two things that committees used to accomplish: 1) communal or social interaction, and 2) a desire to offer service. There are a couple of differences, however, in how young people view those two things. The social component young people seek needs to address a deep yearning to belong to something larger; which is to say, they are looking for engagement with a community that will both feed them emotionally (and increasingly, spiritually), as well as offer them opportunities to work to make a better world.

As a group they are savvy about social media, and satisfy some of their communal longings on-line. This also means, though, that they believe much of what used to be done at committee meetings can be done on Skype, by email, or by Google Docs; and they prefer to reserve their time for true face-to-face interaction for something other than committee meetings. Consequently, if you call a meeting and young people attend, the meeting better be necessary, substantive, and to the point, or they won’t come back.

Furthermore, an interest in making a better world, or a commitment to social justice, strikes a chord with younger generations. As a demographic, they care intensely about peace and poverty, the environment and equal rights for all. They are capable of intense commitments that require them to devote great energy to causes about which they feel strongly. (It should be no surprise that exciting communal movements like “The New Monasticism” have taken hold with these generations). But because of the limits of time, they tend to be choosy about those opportunities to which they commit themselves. As a result, it can be difficult to convince them that programs without a big payoff in spirituality, true community-building, or social justice are worth their time.

So what do I think we need?

I have two broad suggestions:

  1. The church needs to shed its attachment to any method of organization that drains energy rather than amplifies it.
    • If you spend more time talking about the failure of the organization than actually doing something, you’re going backward. Do the hard work necessary to change and move on.
    • If you spend too much time researching, thinking that there’s a perfect system other people are using that you’re missing out on, you’re stuck. There are no perfect systems. The only system you need is the system that helps you get ministry done.
    • If your system of organization makes you guarantee an initiative will work before it gives you permission, you’re always going to be playing catch-up. There are ten failures for every success. So, the more success you seek, the more you’re going to have to learn to live with failure.
    • If you need total agreement before making a decision, you’re guaranteeing mediocrity. Programming, organizing, ministering for the lowest common denominator of agreement will never excite anyone for long.
    • If nobody wants to do it, don’t do it. Quit wasting time trying to gin up the enthusiasm to do ministry nobody cares enough to do. (Possible objection: “Some things have to get done, even if nobody wants to do them–like say … worship and paying the bills.” I’ll stipulate that some things have to get done for the church to continue in its present form. But if there isn’t anyone who can muster the enthusiasm to do those things, it’s time to start thinking about changing forms or closing the doors anyway. I’ll defend the assertion that if nobody wants to do it–VBS, Women’s Circle, etc.–there’s not much point in wasting time and energy trying to manufacture the passion.)
  2. The church needs to re-think what work meetings are supposed to accomplish.
    • Meetings and brainstorming are two different things. Meetings are about decisions. Brainstorming is about ideas. Both are necessary, but many church meetings toggle between the two as if they were the same thing. They’re not; and when you mix the two, you introduce confusion and drift–which keeps people from wanting to come back. If you’ve scheduled a meeting, make the decisions necessary, then figure out how to support those decisions. If you’ve scheduled a brainstorming session, throw it open to all ideas. Then, after everyone has had a chance to reflect on the options, reconvene at a later time in a meeting to make decisions. Don’t try to do both at the same time.
    • Inasmuch as possible, try to do work on-line. There doesn’t have to be a meeting to decide who’s going to bring the congealed salad to the potluck. Email, Twitter, Facebook are great tools for avoiding frivolous meetings.
    • Produce and distribute an agenda. It shows you’ve thought beforehand about the things you’ve asked people to gather to decide. It communicates that you take your meeting seriously, and you want everyone else to take it seriously also.
    • Stick to the agenda. If there are important items that come up that aren’t on the agenda, you should seriously consider calling another meeting to address them. Having an agenda provides a tangible instrument that everyone can refer back to, in order to hold each other accountable for keeping to the task at hand.
    • Announce the length of the meeting from the beginning, then honor that time commitment. It shows that you value everyone’s time. Habitually going long in meetings communicates a belief that whatever thing you’ve called people together for is more important than anything else they could be doing with their lives.
    • As much as possible, schedule meetings to address decisions that need to be made, not because the calendar says it’s time to meet. Meeting for the sake of meeting is a sure recipe for losing young leaders (and old too, for that matter).

Bonus: Learn about the wonder of doodle polls! Trust me.

We live in a different world. That’s a commonplace almost not worth mentioning … except that, while we know it’s true, we often live as if it were not–as if the church organization that met the needs of an industrial world should continue to be sufficient to meet the needs of the information society. Unfortunately, as churches are finding out, Jesus’ saying about new wine and old wineskins continues to prove uncomfortably true when it comes to organizational strategies. Whether the world we inhabit is better or worse than the one we inherited is another argument. My point is that different jobs need different tools, and different paths require different maps (even, perhaps, especially, if the destination remains the same).

Does the church have to be organized like a Fortune 500 company? No. But that’s good news, because we’ve shown over the past thirty years that–its theological dubiousness notwithstanding–as a practical matter most churches can’t make the functional church model work anyway.

The true test of a faithful church is not whether in can produce a slick flow chart–but whether it can produce disciples who follow Jesus.


  1. One of the issues raised in framing the gospel as a product is theological in nature, having to do with the extent to which packaging the gospel as a salable commodity does injury to the gospel–which doesn’t fare well in the consumer marketplace (without great contortions); it’s difficult, after all, to highlight suffering, sacrifice, and death as the centerpiece of a marketing campaign. (But that’s a whole different post.)  ↩
  2. If it sounds as though I’m insensitive on this point, like I find some kind of satisfaction in killing off cherished programs, I understand. But the truth is I’m not. What I am doing here is describing what I take to be the realities churches face. I take no satisfaction from the hurt that results from a lack of support for a beloved program. I’m merely trying to explain why that support may have evaporated over the years. ↩