For Hmmm... the Bell Tolls

We’ve changed our Good Friday practice at the church, in the last year or so.  Faced with dwindling attendance at the noon-to-three service we used to offer in conjunction with several other churches in the community, we finally gave up on that service and decided to hold one at seven p.m. in the evening, instead. Tonight we’re offering what we expect will be a simple but moving Taizé service, backed by the Chancel Choir, who are in the process of learning what contemplative chants are all about. We’ll see if perhaps we can start a new local tradition.

Because noon-to-three comprises the biblical hours of the crucifixion, this year we simply opened the church for prayer during those hours. It’s our last nod to the Good Friday afternoon worship tradition. I wasn’t in the Sanctuary the whole time, but to the best of my knowledge no one took advantage of the opportunity.

That’s not a huge surprise. The contemplative tradition feels foreign to many Presbyterians. We tend to be a pragmatic bunch — not the sort of crowd who flock to an opportunity to gather for silent prayer.

Besides, to a culture that increasingly worships youth and health with a zeal bordering on idolatry, the figure of a tortured man gasping out his last breath on a cross seems the antithesis of any sort of victory.

In past years, at three p.m., we would conclude the community service by ringing the church bell thirty-three times – symbolic of the years of Jesus’ life. Although the Sanctuary was empty, I went in there today anyway, took hold of the bell rope, and slowly rang it. Thirty-three times feels like an eternity, when you space the rings out with a few seconds in between each one.

Outside, through the stained-glass, I could hear the sound of traffic and glimpse the wraithlike shadows of passing cars: people on their way to who knows where, very likely oblivious to the tradition that three o’clock was the hour of Jesus’ death.

If they noticed the sounding of the bell at all, would they realize what it was about?

I’ve always found the ringing of church bells to be significant in ways beyond words. In the year of undergraduate study I spent in Oxford, I used to look forward to the time each Sunday evening when all the change-bell ringers from the parish churches and college chapels, by common agreement, simultaneously practiced their trade. It was a glorious cacophony I will never forget, a mellifluous, rippling series of sound waves washing over that city of spires.

In years past, church bells functioned as many towns’ public-notification system. Like the Emergency Broadcast System that interrupts radio and TV programming every once in a while for a test, church bells fulfilled that function in years gone by. Public joys, civic celebrations, urgent alarms: all were heralded by the ringing of the steeple bell. In the era before loudspeakers and sirens, it was pretty much the loudest, most sonorous thing around.

That function has long since been supplanted by electronic systems of various kinds. Our local volunteer-firehouse and first-aid sirens are way louder than any church bell in town. In the days following Hurricane Sandy, the local Office of Emergency Management sent out daily information bulletins via telephone robocall. A viral message on Facebook, as we all know, can reach millions in the space of a few hours, if its recipients are keen to propagate it through their slacktivist mouse-clicks.

All that made me feel like a bit of a dinosaur, yanking on that bell-rope thirty-three times in an empty sanctuary, beside a street filled with drivers on their way to who-knows-what sort of Easter holiday sale. (I’ve actually seen a few ads for Good Friday sales in recent years. Now there’s a sacrilegious cluelessness that beggars the imagination!)

American hyper-individualism has been on the rise for generations. Has it reached its spiritual apogee in today’s bland acceptance of “Have It Your Way” McReligion as the national creed?

“Cast off the ties that bound
Our hearts in Christian love:
The fellowship of kindred minds:
To that we give the shove.”

(I just came up with that. Inspired, or what?)

The bell-tone reverberates, over the parade of preoccupied passersby.  What can we do but sound it anyway, hopeful that, somewhere, someone looks up and displays a half-smile of recognition?

The Open Door

The 220th General Assembly is unusual in that its Sunday-morning worship was not in the familiar cast-of-thousands, stadium-style format.  Rather, local congregations of Pittsburgh Presbytery invited their ecclesiastical visitors from afar to come worship with them.

This morning, along with two others – my roommate, Paul (stated clerk colleague from Elizabeth Presbytery), and Doug (campus minister at Eckerd College) – I drove to one of the churches not on the official list.  Turns out, the only reason this church hadn’t rolled out the red carpet along with others from Pittsburgh Presbytery is that, at the time the local arrangements committee was putting the list together, this congregation didn’t have a Sunday morning service.  They used to meet only in the evening.

You’ve probably figured out by now that this bunch is “not your father’s Presbyterian Church” (to paraphrase that old car ad).  The Open Door is a self-described “missional church community.” It meets in a churchy-looking building that is, technically, no longer a church.  It’s a former Baptist Church that’s now a community center, from which the Open Door rents space on Sunday mornings.

In many ways, their worship looked and sounded familiar.  It followed the typical Presbyterian order of worship, although in a very informal way.  While there were no hymnbooks, the words projected on the wall came from traditional hymns.  The singing was accompanied by a single guitarist (I understand this isn’t always the case, and that they often sing other songs besides).  Still, this decidedly younger crowd did fine with the traditional hymns, which are obviously part of their repertoire.

The sermon by Pastor B.J. Woodworth – who on this sweltering summer day was clad, like most of his congregants, in baggy shorts and a loose-fitting shirt – was on the Kingdom of God, and was quite good.

The Open Door folks are pretty mission-oriented (true to their motto).  Today’s service included the laying-on of hands – not to ordain officers, but rather to commission several interns who are working in an “urban farming” vegetable-garden project.

The Passing of the Peace was something else altogether.  The actual “Peace-be-with-yous” were over pretty quickly, but the interlude continued for probably 10 minutes, with folks moving around to visit with one another, fetch cups of coffee, etc.  Obviously, fellowship is a big part of what this church is all about, and the boundary between worship and the rest of congregational life is pretty porous.

The biggest eye-opener for me, though, was personal. Two of the worshipers were dead ringers for our son and daughter, both twenty-somethings.  Not only did they look like Ben and Ania, they also dressed like them. (Readers who have met our kids will probably be able to pick these young adults out in these pictures.)

Knowing that, at this stage of their lives, my kids – whose names remain on the roll of the church I serve for the sake of good old dad – don’t make congregational worship a regular part of their week, it was a powerful thing for me to see their döppelgangers so actively involved here at The Open Door.

It made me wish there were an Open Door worshiping community in their neighborhoods, so I could point them in that direction.

Maybe we’ll just have to start one in Point Pleasant.

A statistical presentation at the General Assembly this afternoon reported that the average age of Presbyterians is 60 and climbing. Obviously, we’ve got to rethink some of the things we’ve long been doing in worship.

It’s becoming more and more evident to me that the future of the denomination is in church-planting efforts like The Open Door.  So, what are we waiting for?

We're All Called Into Mission

Today I was reading a missionary letter by Dr. Karla Koll, a university professor who is one of our PC(USA) overseas mission workers in Guatemala.  (These mission letters, posted on our denominational, website, are well worth keeping up on, by the way; they're a treasure trove of stories for interpreting to our people how their contributions are put to good use for Jesus' sake.)

Dr. Koll was telling a story that highlights one of the problems we're having, these days, helping Presbyterians feel connected to mission:


"A few years ago I was talking with an elderly woman who was a member of a Presbyterian church in the United States. I asked her how she was involved in mission. 'I can't be involved in mission,' she told me. 'I'm not able to go on a mission trip.' Her answer broke my heart. How many churches have reduced involvement in God's mission to a particular mission practice in which only active adults and teenagers with sufficient resources to buy a plane ticket can participate?


All Christians are called into mission. In the local church, each and every believer, from the kindergarten children in Sunday school to the folks whose health keeps them shut in at home, should discover the ways in which they can participate in God's work in the world. Some of the most faithful supporters of my work in mission are women who faithfully pray for me and my colleagues at CEDEPCA, even though they are no longer able to participate very actively in their local churches."


It's a great thing that so many of our churches are planning short-term  mission trips that take members of the congregation to areas of need, in this country and overseas.  These can be life-changing experiences, and can revitalize a congregation's attitude towards mission beyond the local community.


Yet, as Karla's story indicates, mission trips can easily become the proverbial tail that wags the dog.  If our congregation becomes so enamored of the short-term mission trip that they stop feeling connected to general, undesignated Presbyterian mission, then we've got our priorities askew. It's a great thing if the youth group can travel to some storm-ravaged community for a week and learn how to hang sheetrock, or even fly to a two-thirds-world country and install a water pump for the community well, but when the week's over, they're back home again and the mission work is ended.  Mission workers like Karla are the ones who stay behind, who immerse themselves in the lives and culture of Christian communities overseas.  They do things, for the glory of God, that no short-term mission tripper could dream of.


Both the short-term and the long-term mission outreach are important.  Yet, they're fundamentally different, and we need to keep a balance between them.


Yes, I realize designated mission giving is all the rage these days.  Yet, let's not forget the value of learning about what mission workers like Karla are doing, and telling their stories to our people every chance we get.


We are all connected.  We are all working together.  We are Presbyterians in mission.

Encouragement from Cuba

Some Monmouth Presbyterians may remember Edelberto Valdes Fleites, a pastor from the Central Presbytery of the Presbyterian and Reformed Church of Cuba.  Edelberto itinerated among churches of our Presbytery several years ago, as an International Peacemaker sponsored by the Presbyterian Peacemaking Program.  Some of us also had the opportunity to meet him in Cuba, as well, on mission trips our Presbytery conducted in coordination with the Central Presbytery.

In addition to serving as a pastor, Edelberto is currently Executive Secretary of the Central Presbytery, with which we continue to be in mission partnership.

I just saw Edelberto's name in a Presbyterian News Service article, in which he was being interviewed about signs of hope he sees for the renewal of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), growing out of the denomination's 1,001 New Worshiping Communities emphasis.  This view of our church from an overseas vantage-point is worth reading. Here's an excerpt:

What did you do in Cuba when it became difficult to be a Christian? 

First we did everything we could to give our churches tools to help them live our faith in the world and be willing to pay a price to be a Christian. We produced many theological documents about how to live in a socialist society, trying to have our church be strong in its faith in the here and now, rather than thinking about life in heaven. We discovered that if you want to be a Christian, you have to live it by actions, instead of just talking about it.

What did you feel as you read about the 1,001 new worshiping communities, which you refer to as “signs of hope”?

I felt that the Presbyterian Church isn’t wasting time, resources, and life discussing items that aren’t important. It’s as if the church decided to be an alive church, instead of a comfortable one that waits for people to come. It is good to hear of these communities that are involved with people, searching for them, walking with them and the problems they have. To me that is a sign of hope. I visited PC(USA) churches five times. Often I found buildings with lots of stuff, nice conditions to work with, but without passion for people. I could feel that.

What would you like to say to these new worshiping communities?

Be encouraged, continue on! I share with you my strength and hope, that you are becoming like Jesus, who walked on the roads many times, being close to people’s problems, giving them holistic healing.

What kind of experiences would you talk to them about?

The experiences we had here when we couldn’t talk openly about our Christians faith in our schools, jobs, or even in our families because it could be the beginning of serious problems. But we survived as a church because we decided to serve Jesus by serving the people. Not with good speeches, but with actions that declare the Christian faith is more than words.

Tell me more about the meaning of your last words “go ahead” and the exclamation points?

In the Old Testament, when Moses was with the people in front of the Red Sea with the Egyptian army behind them, God told him, “Tell my people to walk!” It sounds like a crazy phrase, but if you think about it, many times life paralyzes us. It is so good to know that God is pushing us to continue struggling even when we are surrounded by bad situations. Isn’t that the meaning of resurrection?

It's the Water, Not the Container

(Writing my annual Pastor's Report for our church's Annual Report booklet, I decided to do something a little different this year.  Because I'm describing challenges facing every congregation in these days of rapid change, this will have some interest for others beyond the Point Pleasant Presbyterian Church...)

There’s an old joke shared among those who know the Presbyterian Church well – although you can actually pull out our denomination’s name and drop in just about any other: “How many Presbyterians does it take to change a light bulb?”

“Did you say... CHANGE?!?!”

By and large, churches don’t handle change very well.  That’s because an important part of what we do in the church is preserving tradition.  Everyone knows that.  On any given Sunday, a significant portion of worshipers have chosen to come because they’re dismayed at developments they’ve seen in the world around them, and are wishing to hold fast to time-honored beliefs and values.

Who can quarrel with that?  I certainly wouldn’t.   

Sometimes, though, we confuse the packaging with the product.

Is it the tune of a familiar hymn that’s truly important, or the spiritual experience it calls to mind?  Is it the expectation that men will wear ties and jackets to worship, or is it their determination to approach God with respect and reverence?  Is it using the same sort of offering envelopes our parents used, or is it using whatever giving method is most consistent with the way we manage money today?

A thirsty traveler rescued from the desert will accept a drink of water just as readily from a tin cup as from a crystal goblet.  It’s the water that’s the thing, not the container that bears it.

It’s all about discerning the difference between the container and its contents.

During the past year, it’s become increasingly clear to me that an era of change will soon be upon us in this congregation.  We’re not unique in this.  Churches everywhere are learning not so much that change will one day come to their neighborhoods, but that it’s already arrived.

This calls for adaptations in our basic approach.  For years, churches have comforted themselves with the familiar line from the film, Field of Dreams: “If you build it, they will come.”  The assumption behind that bit of Hollywood-manufactured folk wisdom is that large numbers of people out there are peering in our windows, looking for a church to join, and if we simply work hard and “do church” better than others, they will choose us.

There’s only one problem with that way of thinking.  Fewer and fewer people today are looking for a church to join.  Period.  Like it our not, the style of spiritual seeking in our culture has shifted from communal to individual.  It’s all about a person’s individual quest for meaning.

If a seeker encounters congenial friends along the way, so much the better – but to most, it’s not essential.  If one church “has it all,” providing a one-stop spiritual shopping destination, that’s a fine thing.  But most people won’t see it that way.  To them, grazing from church to church, picking here and choosing there, likely fits the bill much better.  And that doesn’t even take into account the explosive growth of first television, and now the internet, as spiritual destinations – bypassing most traditional bricks-and-mortar churches altogether.

The younger generations we’ve traditionally counted on to come back to church to get married, then return a while later to have their children baptized, then eventually sign up for Sunday School, aren’t showing up in nearly the numbers they have in the past.  In part, that’s simply because there are fewer of them out there: the average age at marriage has risen precipitously in the past decade or two.  But it’s also influenced by the nearly universal reality of two-paycheck households, and by the fact that it’s rare for both parents in such a household to have the same day off, and for that day to be Sunday.

The 1950s stereotype of the nuclear family of working Dad, stay-at-home Mom, and 2 or 3 kids all coming to church together – in a world where not much else is happening on Sundays – simply doesn’t exist anymore.  It was becoming less true for my own generation, the Baby Boomers, as we were growing up – and it’s certainly no longer true for our children, who are not only fewer in number, but who (because of that deferred-marriage thing) just aren’t looking for their grandparents’ church.  Not now, anyway.  Not at this point in their lives.  And, very likely, not ever.

So, “If you build it, they will come” just doesn’t make much sense anymore.

What does make sense, then?

Something we’ve always known to be true, but that we’ve somehow, in all our program-building busyness,  managed to push to the back burner: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” It’s Jesus’ “Great Commission,” Matthew 28:19-20.

Notice Jesus doesn’t say, “If you build it, they will come.”  He says, “Go out into the world, and I will go with you.  Always.”

He doesn’t even tell us where we must end up.  He just says, “Go.”

Friends, if Point Pleasant Presbyterian is going to continue strong into the future, we’ve got to figure out how to go out into the world again – and not even the world as a whole.  Our local community would be a fine start.  It’s called mission, and it’s not what you may think.  It’s not a matter of contributing money so people can do the work for us.  The sort of mission we need to discover is something we can only do ourselves.

A great theologian once wrote, “The church exists for mission as a fire exists for burning.”  Please pray that the Holy Spirit will kindle such a fire among us anew.

What do you think?  Is this an accurate description of the spiritual landscape today?  What would you add, from your experience?

Please scroll down and post a comment.  I'd love to hear from you.

What's a Church's Economic Worth?

From time to time, we all hear complaints about certain benefits churches receive from the government - most notably, our exemption from property taxes and the income-tax deductions our members can receive for their contributions. Critics of these benefits tend to see churches as freeloaders, living high on the hog at the public's expense.

A recently-published research study, if its results are generally accepted, will go a long way towards putting such objections to rest.

The "Halo Effect" Study conducted by the non-profit group, Partners for Sacred Places, examined historic churches in Philadelphia. As reported in a February 1, 2011 story in the Philadelphia Inquirer, the positive economic impact of churches on their surrounding community - both in terms of direct spending and services provided cheaply or at no cost to their recipients - is massive:

"They added up the money generated by weddings and funerals, festivals, counseling programs, preschools, elder care. They tallied the salaries of staff and the wages of roofers, plumbers, even snow shovelers. They put dollar signs on intangibles, too, such as helping people find work and teaching children to be socially responsible.

They even measured the diameter of trees on church campuses.

The grand total for the 12 congregations: $50,577,098 in annual economic benefits.

The valuation for 300-member Gloria Dei (Old Swedes') Episcopal Church in Queen Village, for instance, was a middle-of-the-road $1.65 million. By contrast, the figure for Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary Roman Catholic parish in Kensington, with 7,000 congregants, a parochial school, and a community center, was $22.44 million.

The numbers, culled from clergy and staff interviews, 'just blew us away,' said Robert Jaeger, executive director of the research group Partners for Sacred Places."

The report has also been mentioned in a May 20, 2011 BBC News story.

As the article makes clear, there will certainly be challenges to some of the calculations included in the report. Pricing intangibles is always a tricky business, in some respects more of an art than a science.

Still and all, the Halo Effect report is a telling reminder that our communities would be poorer places without their churches.

A final note: the photo of the church steeple with the blue-neon halo hanging from it is not Photoshopped. It's the Oran Mor bar and nightclub in Glasgow, Scotland. It's located in a former Church of Scotland sanctuary that once belonged to the now-defunct Kelvinside Church.

Sometimes the message of a church's intangible positive benefits to the community just doesn't get out in time.

Reaching Out Online

When the Apostle Paul set out to grow the church, he relied on the best technology available to him: papyrus and pen for letter-writing; his stentorian voice, strong enough to be heard by large crowds; and ships equipped with the most up-to-date nautical gear to transport him (and his voice) to distant cities.

We’re not so limited today, of course – which is becoming even more true as the full impact of the computer revolution becomes evident throughout the church. By some estimates, as many as 75% of church members are now online (a figure that’s likely even larger in our part of the country, with our excellent broadband and wireless connections).

The possibilities for outreach are multiplying rapidly – especially if the goal is to reach the younger generations.

Even though none of us were tapping on personal-computer keys before the late 1980s, we can now speak of successive waves of digital technology. (Ask today’s high-schoolers which is their preferred mode of communication, email or texting, and you’ll get the idea.)

Lots of books are out there, advising churches on how to communicate in this brave new world, so it’s always nice to find a good article that’s free. You can read the article, “Moving Online: Faith Formation in a Digital Age,” by Julie Ann Lytle of the Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Massachusetts online, or click on this link to see the page on which it was originally posted (scroll down to “Latest News”).

What’s your church doing in this area that’s been working for your people? Click on the “Comments” link just below, and let us know. Let’s get a discussion going!