An alphabet for the evolving Church (part 1 of 5)

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters A-E.

Accessibility. This is about equity, which involves providing well thought-through accommodations to those with various needs (e.g., mobility, sensory) so that they can participate fully in congregational life. It is also about being very intentional in the welcome of newcomers, who might be joining onsite or online, who might not know a soul in your community, who might have not been in a church since the day they were deeply wounded by it, or who might not have any vocabulary or framework for what worship, formation, or congregational life look like.

Breath. In the attractional model of church that many of us still cling to (whether we admit it or not!), the emphasis is always on doing more. Offering more programs so that more people will come. Plugging newcomers into more activities so that they will feel more integrated. Not only has the attractional model proven itself not very helpful, especially for smaller churches, it also leaves a lot of people feeling run ragged. I think one of the pandemic’s big shocks to our systems was that most things stopped. We realized we had either forgotten how to breathe or realized we had even less time for it when work and caring responsibilities collapsed in on each other. We’re still recovering. One of the best things Church can do now is to resist the pull back to lots of programs and instead create space for thought, prayer, and rest - not just for now, but permanently.

Care. This is about checking in on the people in our faith communities, particularly those who are hurting or vulnerable or homebound. It is also about caring for the world beyond our church property. All around us there is great need. The Church is not meant to be set apart, tending only to its own. Being Christ’s body involves going where that need is and listening, giving tangible help, and working against the systems that put people at a disadvantage - through no fault of their own - to begin with.

Development. Learning and growing aren’t just for kids. So what are we doing in our congregations to form faithful followers of Jesus across every age cohort? This is not about implementing more programs. (See “breath” above.) It is about a way of being. What do our rituals say about what we believe about God? How do we discern when a big decision looms? How do we approach our work in committees and teams as worship? How do we encourage people to explore and tell their faith stories, looking for where God has been at work in the process?

Embodiment. We are people that worship a God who breathed life into our nostrils and called us good, and who came to us in human form when we needed more information and interaction than God could give us from on high. When Jesus headed back upstairs, entrusting us to his ongoing work, we became his hands and feet here on Earth. All of this is to say that God loves bodies, and so should we! We should honor our bodies’ - and others’ - requirements of rest, food, movement, and medical care. We should respect what our bodies - and others’ bodies - are telling us about who their inhabitants are on the inside. We should give thanks for the variety of bodies. We don’t have treat our bodies as regrettable meat sacks that temporarily store our brains and hearts. They are beautiful vehicles for getting out into God’s good world and sharing the love of Christ.

Next week: letters F-J.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash.