Church

A church that has lasted for 250 years has undoubtedly changed over those years. In our church, the magnitude of change in just the past four years is palpable. The place looks different, sounds different, even smells different. Those of us in leadership positions during these years have had a vision of what the change might produce, but the pastor’s vision alone is not enough. So last week, I asked our student deacons to say what was unique about our church as compared to all the other ministries present in our community.

They said that our church is:

• Accepting of very different beliefs, practices, traditions
• More open to others – on basis of Christianity, but not specific doctrine
• Affirming of other believers in the community
• More about learning from than instructing others
• Comfortable for “straddlers” – a place where the very religious and secular come together
• A place filled with translators – those who explain faith, who can translate from religious language into an everyday vocabulary and vice versa
• Accessible physical space – don’t have to go looking far from campus
• A “church” versus a “group”
• Church and fellowship together
• More than just undergrads
• Welcoming – easy to get involved or not
• One that lacks “requirements” that can be a barrier to participation
• Not a limited group
• One with clear “adult” leadership
• Marked by a variety of worship: consistent enough to be comfortable, different enough to stretch
• Allows for balance in life – does not demand all your time
• A place where aesthetics and Spirit are important: making things beautiful


My heart sang when I heard what they said. To see our church – any church – this way is to see a vision of what can be. We are not perfect. As the Presbyterians say: “The Church of Jesus Christ is the provisional demonstration of what God intends for all of humanity.” I put the emphasis on “provisional.” Who we are now is not who we will, or should, always be. But we do have a vision of who we are called to be in this time and place, and that is shaping the way we see ourselves, the world around us, and God.

The Boss

The boss stone in a cathedral is a kind of keystone that sits in the ceiling at the intersection of stone ribs. The soundness of the structure depends on the boss stone. It absorbs the tension of the ribs, distributes the load, and bears the weight of the whole. Without it, the whole thing is always in danger of collapse. And yet, what you notice when you look up is the vaulting ceiling, the stone pillars curving inward, the soaring arches. You almost never even notice the bosses, and certainly you don’t accord them the kind of importance that they deserve.
This is a week when some big bosses in the corporate sector have lost their jobs. I wonder if it is because they wanted to be noticed, rather than providing the support for their organizations. I wonder if they were impressed with the weight of their own positions, rather than feeling the weight of being responsible to their employees and shareholders. I wonder if those of us who are flesh-and-blood bosses are prone to forget what the stones seem to know. And is that a particular, terrible tendency in the church?