Several years ago, my financial planner asked me a question that changed my life. What would happen, I wonder, if churches asked the same question?
I met with Michael after a major life transition. Instead of launching into analysis on my pension investments, my cash flow spreadsheet, and my current risk tolerance, Michael invited me to take a step back and think about the big picture of my life. He asked me three questions. The first question was “What would you do if money weren’t an issue?” The third question was, “Imagine you are going to die tomorrow, how do you look back on your life? What are you happy about? Do you have any regrets?” It was fun to imagine a life where money was not a limiting factor. It was affirming to realize that on the whole I had led a good life. But these questions did not take me anywhere new.
The second question made me sit up and take notice: “Imagine your doctor tells you that you have 5 to 10 years left to live. There’s nothing they can do. You will be healthy until you die. You don’t know exactly when, but you will die no matter what in five to ten years.” I was in my early 50’s. I had known people who received a devastating diagnosis at my age. It pushed me to confront the reality of my mortality and not put off the things I wanted to do.
I changed my life. I moved to Leadville, Colorado to be pastor in residence at a small Episcopal Church where I could have more time for creative pursuits and enjoy the mountains. I am working on a mystery novel, and I get to hike and ski more days than not. I also get to be part of a church that takes service seriously. St. George has a food pantry that provides food to about 1500 people a year and serve just under 11,000 community meals a year. It was a hard transition. I endured culture shock and loneliness. But it was the best decision I ever made.
So, I wonder, what would happen if churches were asked the same question. “Imagine, that you know today that you will close in five to ten years. You don’t know exactly when. But there’s nothing you can do about. No new dynamic pastor, no church growth strategy, no influx of young families will change this prognosis. You’ll remain healthy until them. What will you do with your remaining years?”
As a pastor in United Methodist Churches for over 25 years I have focused a good part of my ministry on church growth. Some of this focus has been rooted in a love of Christ and the church. I am convinced that the most serious issues that we face are rooted in spiritual brokenness. I believe that being part of a spiritual community is a core source of deep, wholistic healing. But as I look back on my ministry, I see how some of my emphasis on church growth was not about the people outside the church at all but about my own ego needs and the institutional anxiety in which I swam.
When church growth came up with any sort of passion among the people in my congregations it was almost always because of growing concern over a waning budget, lower worship attendance, and fewer volunteers. In that context, church growth is not about service. It is about survival.
So, what would happen if you knew that your church closing in five to ten years was a fait accompli? How would you use the energy and resources that you’ve been pouring into church growth? What would your committee meetings look like? How would you use your building? If you preach, what would you finally say to your congregation? What would you insist your congregation do because it’s now or never?
Take a look at your list and note the things you’re not already doing. Why not? What stops you? Is it worth it?
Recent Discussions