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 F-J. (See A-E here.)
Flexibility. The pandemic taught us that we can never anticipate everything, which is both scary and exhilarating. It also showed us that we have more ability to adapt than we believed possible. We need to stop trying to exert so much control and let the Holy Spirit do her thing! What might be possible if we let things be a little messy? How might God show up if we opened the floor to more voices and experiences and ideas? I’m eager to find out.
Genuineness. Psst. Here’s an open secret: one of the reasons fewer people are coming to church - or attending less often - is because they want to show up as themselves, without a facade, among other people who are also being real. Gone are the days when everybody puts on their best faces on Sunday mornings. What most are seeking is a way to connect their faith and their questions with their daily lives. Make your congregation a safe place to do that.
Hope. Optimism, which I define as an “everything’s gonna be all right” attitude, is hard to come by these days. Hope, though, is necessary for getting from one day to the next. It is available to us because of the promise of God’s presence and because hope is rooted in what we do in the face of uncertainty and pain. Faith communities can equip people for both aspects of hope, helping us look for where God is at work and equipping us respond to the world’s challenges.
Interdependence. One of the gifts and challenges of the pandemic is that everyone needed care. I think that humanized even the most self-sufficient and stoic of us (I’m talking to myself here as an Enneagram 5!) to others and even to our own selves. We are designed for interdependence. God doesn’t want us to try to make it on our own. The Church must continue to encourage vulnerability and mutual care, and not just among the people in the pews. So many who reside at or walk past the edge of our property both need our care and have so much to offer to us, if we will have ears to hear.
Joy. I am 100% convinced that the congregations that weathered Covid-19 the best put an emphasis on playing together, finding new ways to do that in a time of physical distancing. God created our world and called it good. God gave us one another so that we would know the joy of companionship. Jesus was a guy who knew how to have fun in between his more serious moments of teaching and healing. Church must be a place that people look forward to going to, not because they are entertained, but because they find something there that opens them to delight even as they acknowledge that life can be hard.
Next week: letters K-O.
Photo by Jason Dent on Unsplash.
