It seems like every day when we browse the faith section of the news, we’re told about how the Church is in a decline. Certainly, the pandemic accelerated things. But what is the real cause? I haven’t been to a church that doesn’t ponder the question of how we get more families with young children to come to church. I haven’t been to a church that doesn’t talk ad nauseam about how to welcome in more visitors. Hopefully these conversations are taking place for the right reasons. We want people to come to church because we want to help them to nurture their relationships with God and with each other. While stewardship is indeed nice (not to mention, theologically sound!), we want newcomers so that they can experience the gospel. We can sound like a broken record when we ponder the same daunting questions. With so many churches to choose from, why should people choose to explore the Episcopal Church? How do we attract more families with young children? How can we welcome people from all walks of life? How do we grow the Church when attendance worldwide is in a continuous downward spiral? I don’t have all the answers. But I have some ideas. Enthusiastic buy-in from the entire parish is crucial to making any kind of noticeable difference.
I heard a wise colleague once say that shepherds don’t grow the flock, the sheep do that. In other words, while a strong pastoral presence can keep people coming back, it’s really up to the members of the parish to bring people in the doors. So a major component of getting people to come to church is to do something simple: invite them! But when they are invited, and when they take the time to show up, we all have to work together to demonstrate something called a radical welcome. If you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you’ll know that I am fascinated by the theological astuteness of children. Kids are remarkably perceptive to the world around them. When they show up, if we want them to stay, then kids need to know that they are welcome. Kids have remarkable intuition! When kids show up, it is the responsibility of everyone to make sure they not only are told they are welcome; they must be shown that they are welcome.
What does this look like? It can look like many things. It can look like escorting a visiting family to the front of the church, offering the youngsters a box of crayons and a coloring page, and sitting with them to help them to know what’s going on. Yes, this is true even if it means we don’t get to sit in our preferred pew. Remember, it’s about giving of ourselves. It can look like supporting a frustrated and tired mother or father when their children are fussy. Depending on a child’s age, it can look like playing peek-a-boo with them or even grabbing a crayon of our own and coloring with them. It might even look like dancing with them in the aisles! I’ve danced with kids. During services! Yes, you have my permission (and in fact, even my encouragement!) to engage with kids even during the sermon. Living the gospel is more important than listening to it, and there isn’t any better way to live the gospel then to show others that we love them and care about them. While the kids are occupied, it can also be tremendously helpful to newcomers if we take some time to guide visitors through navigating the Prayer Book, the hymnals, and other worship supplies. When it’s time to approach the communion rail, we can assure people that there isn’t really a way to do it “wrong”. And yes, children (including infants!) are invited to the Lord’s table. Remember, none of us should ever have a memory of being unwelcome in church, and this includes at the reception of communion. Remember that whole, “let the children come to me” thing? I’m pretty sure Jesus meant it when he said it.
What does it not look like? If we want to make sure visitors know they are welcome, then it means we don’t hem and haw because someone new is sitting in “our pew.” It means that we don’t huff and grumble when a child cries, screeches, or even “acts up” during the service. It means that we don’t stare at someone with glaring daggers for eyes when someone isn’t “doing church the right way”. We don’t roll our eyes or laugh because someone stood up, sat down, or knelt at the “wrong time.” Remember that intuition thing? Kids know when we’re sincere about welcoming them. Adults know, too. A radical welcome means we welcome people for who they are, where they are, at whatever stage in life they are. Yes, this is true even if it means we have to shift. The longtime members of any congregation are the “experts”. That means it’s easier for us to adjust than it is for a newcomer to conform to unwritten rules. Yes, this means we get out of our comfort zones. Even if it doesn’t feel good.
Welcoming visitors is great, but how do we get them in the door in the first place? This is where the sharing of a strong, healthy theology proves critical. A “watered down” theology is insincere, and people can sniff it out from miles away. So we must be sincere in what we believe and in how we live our lives. The Episcopal Church has a remarkable opportunity to bring Jesus into the lives of people who have been taught that he simply wasn’t available to them. We welcome people of all genders, sexual orientations, races, ages, and more into our sanctuaries. And yet, we have solid, historic Christian theology. Those two components can seem at odds with one another. So many people have been taught that they aren’t welcome in church because of their “lifestyles”. And while we certainly welcome the marginalized, we aren’t here merely for the marginalized. Instead, we strive to expand the margins so that everyone is included! We’re here for everyone! We’re a church that tries to welcome people the way we believe Jesus would want us to welcome. God’s plan of salvation exists for all of us, and we don’t exclude.
We maintain the historic succession of bishops, we celebrate the historic sacraments of the Church, and we believe the scriptures to be the Word of God. We believe in personal discernment and growth, and we encourage questions, and we’re ok with doubts. We’re imperfect people who simply want to follow Jesus and to live as he taught us to. I honestly don’t see how that isn’t appealing to absolutely everyone. And if we make sure that people know those details about us, and they know that we’re sincere, then maybe we have a chance to offer them a spiritual home. Hopefully, we can even help them on their path to healing. People who have been taught that church wasn’t a place for them are understandably skeptical. They’ve heard it all. “Hate the sin but love the sinner.” “It’s ok to have ‘same-sex attraction’ as long as you don’t act on it.” “You can only be a Christian if you do (fill in the blank).” If we are to truly welcome people, then we need to be sincere about it. Because if we’re not, then we’ll be marked as just one of those other churches that let them down. If we run someone off, then this might just be their last effort to find a spiritual home.
Christianity is facing an uphill climb. That’s for sure. And yet, for denominations like the Episcopal Church, it’s our time to shine. It’s our time to love like Jesus taught us and to facilitate some of that healing. It’s a time when we can welcome the child. The stranger. The refugee. The abandoned. The forgotten. The neglected. The marginalized. There are plenty of churches for people to go to if they think that there’s only one way to be a Christian. We get to be the church that welcomes everyone as they are. And while growth and development are expected, we get to do those things at our own pace as we learn to discern God’s call for us. We can start teaching that discernment at a young age and we can help to instill a lifelong love for Jesus and for his people. A love that will never die and a love that will continue to offer a healing, loving presence for years to come. The shepherd doesn’t grow the flock, the sheep do that. Let’s go out into the world and be those sheep. Let’s lead people to recognize the love that is already there for them, even if they haven’t been able to see it just yet.
Thank you again for your powerful words. We certainly have missed our faith community in Phoenix, even as we build a new community here in Pennsylvania. Gwyn misses her "hunsday school" and the big kids miss the service. Love to you and the whole congregation.
Thank you again for your powerful words. We certainly have missed our faith community in Phoenix, even as we build a new community here in Pennsylvania. Gwyn misses her "hunsday school" and the big kids miss the service. Love to you and the whole congregation.