“It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.”

A familiar lyric from the opening of the 1990’s hit, “Friends”, sums up some recent feelings I have had after attending and reading so much about the decline of the mainline church.  I’m not fine with something which has nurtured and nourished my faith becoming ineffective and irrelevant.  Yet, I fully understand that each generation needs to leave their imprint on the church.  The danger is in how to continue to work in the field of the church when without enthusiasm and joy.  It seems when I lift up my head to look at the world beyond my local parish there is great discouragement and fear. 

The church I serve is vibrant and growing.  I live in an area which is planning for growth and expansion.  But in the larger context of my current conference (Kansas East) and the larger conference we are about to become (The Great Plains Conference) there are many churches which are just holding on by a thread. In a few years, many churches will close, not because the need for faith has disappeared, but because the faithful members are dying.    I hear stories of my colleagues being mistreated and maligned by their local churches for trying to bring about the changes we are called to initiate.  I can only imagine how disheartening our District Superintendents and Episcopal leaders feel with the constant weight of maintaining the old institution of the church and trying to re-ignite us for the future.

 At a recent all-clergy meeting of our new conference as we stood around drinking coffee and complaining about statistical charts I had a moment of clarity.  The scene reminded me of one of my sacred privilege as a pastor of standing with families as they gather around a dying loved one.  At these moments families usually, drink coffee, pass around a baked good and talk about the one who is dying.  Story telling is always a critical part of these gathering with memories of good times and hard times.  The memories always include a few salty stories of youthful antics and the phrase, “remember the time….”   We clergy were doing the same thing.  We were remembering when we were large enough to gather and stand on our feet alone as individual conferences.  We remembered the leaders of the past who shaped and formed us as conference participants.  We remembered floor debates about pensions, health care, abortions, homosexuality and noted that each conference has a few people who always speak at conference about these issues.  In essence, we told the stories of our past.  We are aware of the changing nature of the church and of society.  Yet we are not sure what is next.  The demographic reports about the waning support for organized religion are distressing. 

I’m trying to keep my spirits positive in these transitional times.  I read about the work of the New Monastics movement and other innovators I have hope.    As we are in this time of waiting I continue to hold on to God’s promises of new life.  I will admit my weariness with all the bad news of death tsunamis and diminishing respect for the work of the church.    Every now and then the great line from “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” runs through my mind, “Not Dead Yet.”    We are not dead yet and in fact, I believe we have some great life ahead of us.    I will continue to work in this vineyard and proclaim, Christ is Risen.  Risen Indeed!