Not Going To Church - (addendum inspired by Nadia Bolz-Webber)

 Anyone who has followed through the last few posts will know that I am not, currently, involved in any form of organic church, despite all my desire to be so. At the moment I am, counter-intuitively, attending an Evangelical Fundamentalist congregation, with all its man-centred, Bible-idolising, hand-raising/praising, and passive/receptive Pavlovian audience participation. It is so predictable, so desperate and so, so depressing. I leave after every Sunday experience, sad, lonely and distressed.  I genuinely pray for these brothers and sisters of mine, whom I love. I see the love they seem to have for one another, too, and the warm welcome they show new-comers like myself. But I am not duped; I have been here many times before. It will, probably, not last. When I speak of what I know and believe, the darkness will descend, once again, and doors will close. My grieving for the darkness and delusion that imprisons God's people all over the world, goes on.

Nadia Bolz-Webber, a Lutheran Pastor and Public Theologian, has responded, recently, to a report on declining church attendance in the USA with her characteristic candour, love and hope: "As someone who feels surrounded by the institutional anxiety of declining mainline denominations, I find myself thinking about this: how everything that we see slipping away and (understandably) fear losing - real estate, budgets, executive staff, membership, colleges and camps with our denominational brand on them, influence in society - are perhaps signs of A kingdom, but maybe not necessarily signs of THE KINGDOM.

Which means, we could lose them all and the church would still be fine." (My emphasis)

While not referencing Organic Church specifically, what she goes on to describe certainly suggests something not too dis-similar in style, character, method and practice:

Just for a minute, imagine with me what that kind of freedom would look like! (After all one of Luther’s favorite verses was Galatians 5:1 - “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free…”)

Well, for one, if the game is over, we would have no reason to try and look good.  We could continue to wear our yoga pants all day, so to speak. We’d have no reason to keep a mortgage on a building we can’t afford.  We wouldn't have to meet on Sunday mornings even. I mean – who cares? Let’s meet Tuesday nights or for lunch on Friday.  Here’s something: We could stop kissing up to toxic people just because they give more money than others.  We could serve the neighbor. Sell all we have, give it to the poor. Melt down all that brass and weave our expensive paraments into public art.  We would have no sacred cows.  Nothing to be defensive about. No reason to be offended.  So we could make jokes when we pray and baptize people in carnival dunk tanks and put a chocolate fountain in the baptismal font. And you know what else?  We could cancel every single committee meeting and spend time in each other’s homes. I think rather than arguing about communing children we’d find that children are exactly who we want to receive bread and wine from. We’d sing together more. We’d laugh more. We’d cry more. We’d celebrate Eucharist more and in what we used to think were inappropriate places like gas stations, bus stops, old folks homes - anywhere but a big church building whose mortgage we can no longer afford. 

We could be a people who laugh; who do not think that needing God is a failure; a people who sing unselfconsciously; a people who are unafraid of suffering and unafraid of joy. And, ironically, I think this is something people, not just the ones who are already members of congregations, may just need more of.

It's certainly what I need more of!