full of surprises
Tuesday, February 28th, 2006Readers of this blog may remember me talking about how I’ve been surprised at how progressive I find my family to be when I actually talk to them about things religious instead of assuming. So now I don’t get surprised when I find us agreeing on theological or ecclesiological points. But I have recently learned some very unexpected information regarding the way the wind’s blowing in the church I currently attend.
We’ll call it First Church of Surburbia (FCoS), because it is indeed nestled in a a suburban housing development, the kind where planners saw little need for sidewalks and plenty of need for stucco. It’s no mega-church — it’s around the 400-mark in terms of size. My dad used to be pastor there, for many many years, before he left for health reasons (no bad blood, in other words). I’ve also written in this blog about how it was actually a good church in which to grow up — a functional organization filled with many kind, caring people.
The church building itself was built in the late ’80s, and is accordingly utilitarian. Not a massive thing, but since the early/mid-’90s, the attendance numbers have required two services every Sunday morning. There is also a dearth of Sunday school rooms, as one thing that Suburbia has plenty of (besides big-box stores) is children. There’s no youth room. There’s actually a youth stairwell. Seriously, when I was in high school, the niche underneath a stairwell was furnished with the old couches from the nursery and the old mailboxes from the lobby upstairs, splashed with a few coats of decorative sponge painting and christened (ha) the youth corner. Not that I’m saying youth rooms are Very Important or anything, but if you grew up in a church with a foosball table and all that fancy shit, well — I’m just saying. You were one of the priveleged. (YOUTH STAIRWELL.)
I think many of you will know where I’m going with this, and indeed where a church would be going with this. Not enough space? TIME FOR A NEW BUILDING!
As of now, FCoS has purchased a sizable plot of land and indeed selected an architect. I figured this meant that the church’s movement down the path towards a bright, shiny, massive new building was certain and unstoppable. I figured this would be one more reason why I would eventually end up leaving the church for good, because if I’m going to practice Christianity I’m not going to be practicing the kind that builds massive new church buildings so that there are enough Sunday school rooms to teach third-graders the actions to the song “Ten Men Went to Spy on Canaan.”
Turns out I’m hopelessly out of touch with the internal politics of the church. According to my sources, there is a sizable contingent of folks within the church who are jumping off the building bandwagon. Or if not jumping off, passing notes up to the driver making suggestions. And these folks are some of the leader-types (and, it should be noted, the younger, under-40 types. But also some of the over-40s, too).
They’re questioning the financial wisdom of erecting (ha) an edifice that fits with the old models of church organization, examining the real value of having a space where every single member of the church can meet, and maybe even looking at other ways of using space and schedules.
Well slap the dog and spit in the fire. I had no idea.
Apparently quite a few folks have been reading The Present Future: Six Tough Questions for the Church and it’s shaking things up. I don’t know anything about this book, but it seems that it’s got a hard-hitting message about the future of the church that the baby boomers are taking to heart. They may have a little trouble chewing it at first, but they’re trying. The fact that it’s oh-so-shocking to them probably means it would garner a big “Yeah, and?” from me and a good number of you reading this, but everyone has to start somewhere.
So now I’m thinking, woah, wouldn’t it be great if, at FCoS, there were a Sunday afternoon service that were done in a less structured, more creative style?
It’s interesting that I find all this out now. This past weekend I indulged in something of a fit of pique over FCoS and took a sabbatical from my normal religious activities there. I went to a church that meets in a space downtown, right across from the anarchist bookstore and coffeehouse my friends and I frequent. (And in the same neighbourhood as the art galleries, movie theatres, pub, and record store my friends and I frequent. So basically this church has done a bang-on job of reaching me.) They meet at 4:30 on Sunday afternoons, and it was amazing how natural it felt to go to church at that time of day (though I admit that could be because I’m a lazybones who makes her own work schedule and likes to go out at night and as a result has a bad habit of sleeping ’til noon).
I’d launch into a recap of my experience at this decidedly pomo church, but I think this entry has gotten long enough and you all probably are ready to move on to the next blog on your feed reader.
Basically, I just wanted to share my delight with you. Perhaps there’s hope for the churches of Suburbia yet! FCoS is hardly post-congregational (™ CraigBob) but they’re not trapped in the 19th century, either, and that’s pretty heartening.