Where Have all the Churches Gone?

This last weekend I participated in a memorial service at Dundurn, Saskatchewan, including committal of the ashes of a friend who died last October – corona protocol finally allowing family and friends to gather for the occasion. This occasion also provided a long awaited opportunity for my wife and I to finally see some relatives in nearby SK towns. It seems as though a decade or two has elapsed.

Streets and highways seem busy, either under construction or simply bearing the load of weekenders. Fields beside the highways not so busy, some knolls still showing the bare earth of last May where the monster seeders did their thing, GPS distributed fertilizers useless. When there is no rain the grain cannot grow. Some alternate harvesting (green feed cutting) already underway. Something in the air, namely smoke from BC forest fires puts an eerie glow to the ever faithful sun.

This dry draughty atmosphere also comes with us into my wife’s hometown of Waldheim. Then a shock even bigger! This is no illusion; it is nothing in the air. It is bricks and mortar before our eyes.  A beautiful church, tastefully designed and constructed, stands empty. Located across the street from the high school and devoid of signage, I've been told that it was purchased by the town and will be remodeled to serve as an office facility.

The information is not new. We had already heard and read about this in church media (and amplified by social media of course). Nothing however had prepared me for this .... emptiness. The evolving history of this town seems not to need my grief – after all I just married one of their girls some fifty plus years ago! This was the place of my wife’s youthful adventures, the place of her baptism and of our wedding. It was a church which harbored a whole number of reputable local citizens. Only three blocks down and across what used to be the railroad track is another former church, this one now a restaurant. People drink coffee, tell tall tales and spread gossip in there now. Nobody grieves it either. The big church, the church they all attend, the church of the action, is at the other end of town, don't you know!

I am reminded of the day before. At the memorial service a friend of mine presented a tribute with a nice header “Where have all the Flowers Gone?” and then the footer obviously from that same Beatles song, “Gone to Graveyards Everyone.” 😌 That play on words at first blic seemed almost dismissive of the deceased, but now on further thought I’m drawn to it. The flowers, the memories, the tributes, the legacies, even the stories, where do they go? They go to graveyards. Graveyards are a place for memories, leftover tears, and even new resolve. I’m told that graveyards are very significant original sources for historians. So even if us Christians might say that the graveyard is but the repose for our bones while the soul goes to its eternal reward, the actual place of rest is a significant place. For example, the chosen final resting place for the ashes of our friend is at same gravesite where his wife was buried eighteen years ago. Someday the historians may access that information. It is data regardless of their own or anybody else’s theological orientation.

Back to my shocker, the empty building. Actually I have always been a critic of fancy church edifices. In my mind the church is not a building. The church is the people alive and fully operative wherever two or three (Matthew 18:19) are gathered in the name of God. My most satisfying years of pastoral ministry, ten years in Edmonton and six in Calgary, were years of sojourn, years of worship and fellowship in rented facilities, always claiming that the fullness of our identity was right there among us, never dependent upon a building to call our own. These were the years of growth, both numerically and personal spirituality for all concerned. Once the building was procured a malaise began to cast its pall.

My grief therefore is not the re-assignment of empty church buildings to more useful purpose. I like buildings, good buildings – planned and constructed and utilized to maximize usefulness with minimum environmental footprint. My grief is with what seems like a community tragedy, a faith tragedy if you will – the closing down of a church! There's a message there. When people in the church seem not to consider it worth their while to provide support for one another and for leaders and program maintenance to provide physical and spiritual food for all who would come, then I am sad. It may not mean that it is a mistake; doors closing may in fact lead to other doors opening. Nonetheless I am saddened that no one at this point has the enthusiasm, the clarity of vision, or the Calling to help a faith community be the faith community. I can think of a few scriptures that speak to this, one from the Old Testament and one from the New.  In Isaiah 6 is the prophet in the holy presence of God,

⁸ Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I. Send me!”

and then there is Jesus in Matthew 9:36,

When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

The Presence of God in this world (in this universe?) is into a new day. Churches with nice architecture and splendid cathedrals are not the real church, and some of our preoccupation with buildings is because of spiritual neglect or hedonism – perhaps similar to the Baalism, as encountered by the people of God in the O.T.  I have recently posted several times about modern trends sucking the energy out of churches (Check out "Good-Lifers," May 10; "New Pentecostalism," May 24). My lament therefore is not for buildings closed. I only hope that this recent ‘sign of the times’ not be taken as another claim by those who can only think in terms of winners and losers or who's got the right or the wrong preacher. It is a clear invitation for all of us to experience the larger presence of God. Recent newscasts have reported not only misdemeanors but heinous crimes committed by the Church. Some of this has been a carry-over of early church history, reformation history, as well as the colonial movement into North and South America. None of us in our colonial denominations are without some shadowy blemishes.  1 Corinthians 10:12. So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don’t fall! 

Where have all the churches gone? Maybe some of our history is quite accurately evident in the graveyards. Churches closing or remaining open are indeed a present manifestation of our history. And the future? God the Alpha and Omega, Yahweh, Allah, Creator was there then, is still, and will be forever – larger than any congregation, any denomination; larger even than the Christian faith as we understand it to this day. Yes! The new challenge (new opportunity) is to become acquainted with our next door neighbors who may hail from the same village you or I came from, or from halfway across the world.

At the very beginning of the church there was a group of bewildered eager disciples asking Jesus if maybe now the Kingdom would finally be ushered in. His answer?  

“It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. ⁸ But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:7-8).

Keys Recycled

¹⁹ I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on earth will be^[a] bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be^[b] loosed in heaven.”  (Matthew 16:19).

 yep, another of our generation has died. indeed steve like richard rohr....'inside' yet so edgy.... one's heart wants to announce to all at the memorial, and beyond: best way to honor this man-- cry for the permanent opening of all the doors of local jails as well as the five local military bases.  then throw the door-keys into metal-recycling bin, and begin conversion/re-training of all the thousands of workers, students, etc. to life-affirming work...

 

These two quotes bring a smile to my face. Theological to the core and yet comical, one from the sacred scriptures, the other from my brother Peter, living in Colorado Springs, CO, grieving the loss of the esteemed leader of their Bijou House, an intentional Ecumenical Christian Community. Stephen Handen, former Roman Catholic priest, died peacefully on July 12 day before yesterday, with wife and family at his side. Peter’s sentiments obvious, typed in his fast and furious style with full stops and capitalization details ignored. It is about his very good soulmate friend – a giant of a visionary who has passed on. This is about a faith community that grew in spite of the Church. Members of the Bijou were ‘all in’ with all things in common and shared and distributed as per the needs around them (Acts 2:44-45) including the common mission to confront the evils of militarism.

My intrigue is with this occasion of grief – funeral mass as per protocol in the local Parish and yet responses and condolences from society’s full spectrum of sinners and saints, believers and unbelievers. Many years ago a young priest was found to be in violation of the celibacy vows required for ordination as a catholic priest – and accordingly defrocked. He then continued a visionary ecumenical community ministry for another fifty years, nurturing and managing radical faithfulness along with other idealists, this ministry including a land trust for the homeless, soup kitchens, bicycle repair shop, Bible studies and university lectures, and even a memorial garden in his backyard for the ashes of many homeless who regularly expired in their Springs neighborhood.

And, get this, all the while faithfully attending mass and worship within the church that had defrocked him! This was in direct contrast to a number of other ‘victims of the institution’ who were partners in this community ministry. Unable to endure the complacency of today’s American churches, this faith group was into radical activism, still akin to the hippy anti-Vietnam war attitudes of the 1960s and 70s. My brother, a seminary educated Mennonite, also in this group, makes observation of another ex-catholic priest in their community, but whose anger at ‘the church’ forbade him darkening its doors. A great variety even within this community!

I could now go on and on with many anecdotes of experiences my brother and his wife Mary have encountered (initiated?) in their humble abode in that town among these people. My thinker (yes again 😊) must now venture into a few theological morsels, reflections that come from my observations of that ministry in that country south of the 49th. The Matthew scripture above is regular fare in my faith community, the Mennonites, offspring of the Anabaptists of the 16^th century Reformation.  My people the pacifists, the schwarmer, the spiritists, who were a pain in the butt for the dominant Church, claimed the full authority of ‘binding and loosing’ earthly decisions even if not sanctioned by Mother Church. Ironically mother church claimed big authority from the Bible verse immediately preceding the quote above. Only one verse prior is the other perspective. ¹⁸ And I tell you that you are Peter,^[a] and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades^[b] will not overcome it. (Matt 16:18). Catholicism requires order and authority derived from these words of Jesus bestowed onto Peter (and successors). The difference of course is in interpretation of the keys. Anabaptists claim authority from the Holy Spirit as provided by Jesus wherever two or three are gathered in his name, and the Roman Church derives authority from the designated head, the pope. My brother Peter’s folksy reference to recycling the keys into something useful has its full dose of irony – and of course agreement from his faith brothers the defrocked priests as well as the other brothers and sisters within their community.

Always, almost always (!) there is a little more to it. Those of you who read all my posts will remember “Good-Lifers” (May 10) which identifies some positive recent developments in the catholic church. I have an appreciation for the Church’s present-day efforts in South America, seeking to address some of the sociocultural damage to people and the rainforests incurred by aggressive extractive mining and corporate farming within ‘the lungs of the world’ most of which has historically been accommodated by the Church. The huge challenge is what to do about it now both ecologically and pastorally. Even as they make an effort it must be acknowledged this is a crisis not only for the Roman Church, but all peoples of faith, including us soft-spoken (?) Mennonite pacifists also benefiting from aggressive economies and modern militaristic governments.  Undeniably here is a challenge yet to be faced by the largest country on this planet with its largest military base just south of Colorado Springs.

Peace on Earth was the cry and the witness of the Bijou House. Peace on Earth will be their cry until the day that they all die. Peace on Earth is also the vision and the dream of an increasing number of modern agencies (nonprofits with fancy names and perhaps, perhaps not, affirmed by churches), but the keys will need to be of recycled material, fully retooled by the One who was, is, and is to come.

Accidental Neighbors

Here follows what I would call a seasoned article. It has sat in my computer “writings” for a while - wrote it about two years ago. Upon rereading it several times last couple of days I discovered I cannot ignore it. It’s about a friend of mine - interesting guy. His faith is both unique and ordinary. I am intrigued by his vantage to ‘doing’ things, different than many of us who do things only because of routine or carefully considered and planned for such and such reasons, etc. etc. –  along with budget implications of course!  As neighborliness, churchiness, interfaith and political morality and pandemic recovery is front and center on my mental and spiritual burner these days (yes, my thinker 😐), I offer this little piece as something germinal – perhaps of good use to myself and to those of you who read here.

 

August 27, 2019

 

ACCIDENTAL NEIGHBORS

We were a group of men, all gathered at the home of one of us. Peter is an extraordinary guy, a young retiree who has many involvements including, together with his wheelchair-bound wife, parenting three energetic young adult sons, participating in church life, managing neighborhood activities, etc. 

This was a second meeting which he has felt inspired to call; breakfast at his house. “Why not”, he says, “Costs you 16 or 18 bucks just to sit at a restaurant and talk about nothing.  Here no charge, and you may get to actually talk about … something.”  Good point Peter.  Last time three of us showed up; this time fourteen!  Peter was elated, thanked us repeatedly for coming and occasionally looking at the swelled numbers, “Be careful what you pray for”.  LOL.

At the risk of over-indulging my penchant for theologizing beyond the necessary, one additional thing.  In his openhearted and humble way, Peter tells us that "not all had come." He also had invited his soccer friends. Just a bit more description of those friends revealed they were brown skinned, nicest friendliest guys he has ever met, and if they had come “maybe then he would have backed off on the pork chops.”  Aah, Muslims. Then from comments in the group I interpreted they "wished that they would have come” but from some of the red neck comments I had just listened to during mealtime I’m not quite sure that was genuine. This group of cowboys probably were not of the fully inclusive kind. After all this is Calgary! Had those other visitors joined us we would have told stories and visited well, but probably backed off on religion. 

After the hearty breakfast with lots of mini conversations all around the outdoor table, we enjoyed Peter's short unassuming meditation about Kindness with a few Bible references like Prov 3:5-6; Eph 4:32; and Lk 10:29-35. In short order we were sharing deeply – some even tearfully – about times and places we had kind of screwed up exactly on that point, and yet received grace, forgiveness, personal learning, etc. We were kind to each other, and it was so good.  [Now I confess to one huge oversight. None of us offered to pay for all the eggs, pancakes, coffee, pork chops, etc. Lord have mercy; we shall fix it next time!] 

I am persuaded that right here is the crux of what is especially needed these days among people of faith, be they Albertans, Newfies, Americans, or even immigrants or refugees.  Fellowship is so important – especially the spontaneous variety like this large generous invitation – and also important to invite Samaritans, and even those who attend a different church than I do!?! 😜   This is the new challenge, the new opportunity of the day.

 

Yes, written two years ago. Some things are different by now. At present, as a retired preacher I am honored to represent the Mennonites on Calgary Interfaith Council, fully involved and fully stimulated with Muslims, Mormons, Catholics and Ecumenists and Evangelicals and B’hai and Unitarians of all stripes – all of us regularly grateful for the Indigenous land we are settled upon. Something about Peter’s pre-pandemic breakfasts rates as the best preparation I might have had for this next chapter of life in these world repopulating reacclimatizing faith rebranding days. Joke told at a recent meeting:  After Adam and Eve got removed from garden of Eden, he turned to her, “My dear, we are living in an age of transition.”