Story #8 in the Covenant series
When a church begins to lose members it can begin a downward spiral that feeds on itself, much like a falling economy. Often there is some kind of traumatic event that wounds the community – a disillusioning scandal, a large exodus of people because of some grievance, or a neighborhood that transitions faster than the church can adapt. The church’s income drops as people leave, and soon there isn’t enough money or volunteer leaders to sustain their programs. The church scales back its activities and sometimes lays off staff. People begin to leave for larger churches that they think have more to offer their children. This leads to more cutbacks and layoffs. Before you know it, the church is in a serious crisis.
In our case, the sudden departure of almost half the church meant the loss of a dream. We purchased land with the idea that we were close to constructing a church building. It was fun being the only Baptist church in the world meeting in a bar, but we were ready for our own home. When so many people left, it became clear that it would be a long time before we had our own building. This was disappointing for many. More left. Some stayed because of their commitment to the community, but in truth they were tired and out of energy. They missed Kenny and their friends who had left. And the dream of a building faded more with every family that went away. They stayed as long as they could, but one-by-one they came to me and told me the bad news. As much as they hated to, they just weren’t getting what they needed. They felt that they must leave for the good of their families. It seemed like every time a new family found our church, one of the old families would leave. And every time it happened the grief was tremendous for me. I loved these people. Now I wouldn’t be seeing them on Sundays. We would no longer celebrate Advent together or Easter. These were very painful years for Jeanene and I. Painful and frightening. If the church fell apart I would feel like a failure. And I would be out of a job.
It was especially difficult because those leaving truly were doing so for the good of their families. They felt that their children weren’t going to remain emotionally and spiritually connected to the church without larger Sunday school classes, programs and events. There didn’t seem to be any right answers. Who can quarrel with a family’s desire to be a part of a church that is meaningful to them?
Several moments stand out in my memory as being particularly hard for me. The first was when the Cowdens left. George and Shirley were a part of the group that conceived of Covenant and formed the community. George was an elder, and Shirley was a deacon. I remember the day I saw an empty look on George’s face at an elders’ meeting. He was done. He had no more energy. He was tired of worrying about the church and feeling responsible for keeping it going. I felt no resentment then, nor do I now. The Cowdens needed to move on. I understood, but it was heartbreaking.
Another was when I realized that my daughter was now the only child left in her Sunday School class. There were fewer and fewer kids her age at Covenant, but as long as Reiley’s best friend Katy was still there she seemed okay. But then Katy’s family left to go to a large church downtown.
One Sunday there were only 13 people in attendance at the Duckblind Lounge. I preached and led music that Sunday, awkwardly moving my arms up and down to the beat of the hymns as I had seen music ministers do. We had no piano player that Sunday either, so it was just 13 shaky voices that seemed to get lost in the emptiness of the room. That was definitely a low point for me.
But sometimes there is a moment of grace in hard times.
That graceful moment came when I came around a corner and saw Reiley with Ben Chappell, one of the kindest and most committed Christians I have ever known. Having only Reiley in his Sunday School class, Ben was sitting next to her on a bench. His weathered Bible was open and laid across their laps. He was reading to her from the scriptures and talking with her about what they read there. Their heads were inclined toward each other and they seemed lost in their own world.
That’s when I saw the truth. There wasn’t a child in any church in the world who was having a better experience than my child on that Sunday morning. She had a one-on-one lesson with Ben that day. Just the two of them. Ben, who loved the Bible and loved questions about the Bible. Ben, who was gentle and smart and who would listen to her doubts and questions with care and understanding. Ben, who would celebrate her earliest steps of faith. I quietly backed away and left the two of them alone.
I don’t think I have ever looked back. I’ve never since let myself be seduced by numbers or money or power or any other measuring stick of our culture. I saw then that Covenant was not easy, but it was good. Even if our church was unable to continue, I knew that we had experienced real love and community. And whatever else happened, my daughter was loved and known by Ben.
Really, what more could you ask for?
Gordon Atkinson
 Ben and the my daughters (the 3 sisters) at the church a few years ago. They have all been in his Sunday school class now. He teaches 4th – 6th grades. |
 Ben and Reiley (now 20) at a Habitat for Humanity build in 2008. |
 Ben and I at his daughter Jenny’s wedding, which I officiated with great joy. Jenny was in 8th grade when they came to Covenant Baptist Church. We’ve been in community together for 19 years now. |
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The Chappells and Atkinsons are the only two families left at Covenant from the early days.
American churchgoers love programs. The more the better, especially for children. Smaller churches can offer a deeper sense of community, but that is not valued as much in our culture. Many good and well-meaning churches simply cannot compete with large churches that have numerous professional ministers and a vast array of programs and activities. Some become dysfunctional and focused on themselves as their numbers shrink and anxieties rise. For many it is simply their time to die. There may have been a day when they met real needs in the world, but that day has passed. They disappear, leaving behind empty buildings that are taken by younger churches or are converted into retail space..
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Gordon, I really enjoyed ‘Downward Spiral’. I have experienced what you have written. I do thank God for all the loyal and faithful people like Ben who diligently go about their task in fulfilling their call. Thanks again. Ron
Thanks Ron.
Quakers tend to have the opposite dynamic. There are a lot of small meetings (congregations) in more rural places that keep going with 5-10 regulars, and meetings getting to about 100 face various pressures that frequently result in the meeting splitting into two.
Thank you, Gordon! My church was 100, even 50, years ago a massive Swedish congregation with affluence, programs, and a largely commuting congregation. We are now mostly local, Hispanic, and poverty-stricken with an historic building to have to maintain (including its antiquated plumbing and electrical). We are one of those congregations where the demographics changed *almost* too fast for us to keep up. I am one of the few left from when the Scandinavian population of Los Angeles filled our pews, and my son is fourth generation here. We are not the most long-lived of families affiliated with Angelica, but we are one of the few remaining from those “glory days”. I have often wondered if we would be better served in a congregation with “more to offer” (including a single common language and shorter commute) but I have always come back to “there is love here, and work to be done” and thus we have stayed. I struggle to not become dead-eyed as I serve on council (this is my second year as president, and next year I will be forced by constitutional requirement to take a year off for term limits – and I need it). Thank you for reminding me that I am not the only one who struggles with these issues, and that God can work just as easily outside the norm, sometimes better.
what wonderful relationship/Love ben has given.
and you as well.
the photos tell a wonderful story.
thanks for sharing.
Alexander: I think I’d make a good Quaker.
Stacy: A wonderful church here in town closed, not because they would not change with the neighborhood, but they just couldn’t They were an aging Anglo congregation in a neighborhood that became predominantly Hispanic. They tried everything but let’s face it, they just couldn’t speak to the people around them. They ended up giving their building to a Mexican Baptist congregation – Primera Igglesia Bautista. That church hired an English speaking pastor whose main job was caring for the elderly people from the original church who had nowhere else to go. It was such a graceful thing to see. A graceful way for a church to die.
Having just come from a meeting with the Board President and Treasurer of my own congregation, I needed to read this. We are looking at a 21k deficit for next year and of course, the only way they can imagine balancing the budget is to cut my hours and pay. And of course, that hurts. I’d like to blame the economy, but there is also a definite downward spiral here. Only it’s not because the minister left. I’m still here, but having a hard time finding a way to inspire the congregation. Energy is negative and painful. The congregants aren’t the only ones that have considered leaving. But I’ve made a commitment to stay, if only for one more year, to try to help bring us out the other side.
Reading this story and seeing Ben’s face reminds me of how much good can come from being faithful.
Thanks again, Gordon.
Sean
I can attest to the truth that churches can die gracefully. I pastor a church that benefitted from a merger with a church that chose to close their doors and join with another worshipping congregation. They didn’t select the biggest most successful church in the neighborhood with which to merge. They chose a church that could use their experience and their money. It was a real shot in the arm for the receiving church. There are so many ways in which this story feels like Jesus stooping down to wash the feet to the disciples. The Church that was closing was populated by the former managers and bosses in our steel mill town. The recieving church was peopled by the men and women who worked in the mill. The mill closed 10 years before the merger. The wealthy prestigious dying church gave themselves to the healthy working class church. They didn’t come in and try to take over. They truly laid down their life for the sake of the bigger church. They changed this church in a good way because of their humility and their willingness to serve. And the folks who were here, had enough grace about them to welcome the newcomers without suspicion about their motives. It was one of those holy moments when everybody grasps the significance of one aspect of Jesus’ message for a brief moment before they go back to what they’ve always done, but no one is quite the same as they were before.
Just wanted to say I really appreciate these stories. Thanks Gordon.
Well, since our church started in 1888 ministering in Swedish, changing to strictly English in 1938, and have had a Peruvian Spanish-speaking pastor for the past 18 years, we’re definitely trying to adjust gracefully. We’ve been working through issues of language and culture difference for a long time. Our inner city church has always welcomed congregations of any nationality to worship here, hosting congregations using English, Swedish, Finnish, Korean, Spanish, Kanjobal, and likely a few I’ve forgotten through the years, many of other denominations. Our Pentecost Sundays are definitely something to see! We were also for decades the seat of our local synod as we own an office building next door (our primary source of income is renting to other non-profits) and our elderly population often finds care in our affiliated low income senior housing apartment complex. We’re something of a figurehead church and one of the few inner city congregations our denomination maintains locally. Should the day come when we need to hand our assets over to another congregation or even denomination there will be much sadness but for now we find strength to carry on in the support we get from the rest of our synod for our atypical work being inner city and Hispanic.
I have experienced the same thing in the past (very small Baptist church in Iowa) and now a mid-size Methodist. In the Baptist church’s case, they could not come to an agreement as to who they really were. The focus was always on how to market themselves to the surrounding neighborhoods. Now the Methodist church, where I know serve, is similar but is still large enough that it just might pull out of the downward spiral, as you put it. A pattern of not seeing the community and world change and a poor pastor assignment drove at least 40% of the attending members elsewhere. However, even in my short time here, 15 months, I have seen a remarkable change in spirit and attitude. I doubt this church will ever regain it’s “glory” days but then I think people are starting to realize they have a new and fresh future.
Thank God for the thousands of ministers, Sunday School teachers and other faithful Christians who set their alarm clocks on Saturday night; then respond to God’s calling on Sunday morning.
I grew up in a little church no larger than 35×15 ft. Five separate Sunday School classes met in that space with no partition except a few empty pews between the classes. The bathroom was outside at the end of a long path and the rairoad tracks were routed less than 30 feet from our building. My siblings and I used to anticipate the end of a song following the passing of a train to see if everbody was still together.
Unfortunately, we have adopted the secular definition of “success.” We assume that the churches with large congregations automatically mean that their methods and ministry are approved by God. I think that God will say to you and others who faithfully labor, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” I’d love to be in your congregation.
Gordon, I just wanted to say that the part of this post I like the best is the comment section. The open sharing here is tender and heart-felt. How great is that?
Boy is Dan absolutely right! What a sense of community right here as stories are being shared – after being birthed by RLP’s story.
Such a contrast to most comment sections anywhere on the web today. Thanks for the reminder Dan.
RPS
I have seen this spiral in churches I have been in recently. In both cases, the cor eremaining has drawn together and sought what God wanted for them to do, and where they should head. God has taken the church into a new path of service to the community and the poor, and it is a joy to be a part of the fresh new development happening
Thanks so much everyone. I keep coming back here to see the comments. They are very meaningful to me. Yes Dan, I do feel a kind of community spirit. Remember when we first began the blog network and we noticed that people would come here to read and then go back to blogs to comment.
Not anymore. Not a single comment at the rlp site. All here, which makes me very happy.
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Over the years the pain and fear of those early days has faded. It is a bittersweet thing for me to re-live them in these stories. I don’t have much of a plan. I just step forward a bit and tell a little of the story. I can’t tell you how encouraging it is to me to read the comments and the smaller stories of other churches that have gone through hard times.
We have a tendency to celebrate churches that grow big and exhibit all the signs of “success” that are more a part of our culture than we realize. It is good to also remember that not every church’s journey will be to grow large. Some churches do the Lord’s work when they die, like some of the stories here about dying churches giving their buildings to other congregations that are better suited to carry on the ministry to their neighborhoods.
it was in the early 1970’s that last time i saw a full congregation at the methodist church in southern illinois where i grew up.
i was there again a few years ago to see a few…about 15 in the congregation. mostly all around 80 years old. just a couple younger and one child. but it was good to see them.
since then my uncle’s body died after he spent a few weeks in a nursing home after surgery. he had a couple of weeks at home near the end of his life here.
i called my aunt a few days ago and she was talking about the sunday service. the pastor had invited all the workers at this nursing home to come to the sunday meeting and to a dinner right after that. my aunt was so thrilled that she was going to have a way to show them how much all their caring ment to her and my uncle. i tell ya…i have never seen anything like this in any other gathering that i have gone to. and i thought to myself…they may be a small group…but, wow, what a group.
it was fun to talk to her about the food she was going to bring for the dinner. lasagna and cake. she was thinking she might have to make an extra batch because almost all of them were coming.
You’ve articulated so well what my own heart speaks. We are members of a small country church. Our two girls are among the 16 total Sunday School children (preK-high school). There’s a lot of things our kids don’t have at our church, but what they lack in size they gain in community.
Church on Sunday often feels like a conversation in the living room. No one fusses when my kids go up to the children’s sermon with bare feet.
It’s not perfect, but it’s home.
I only have one child left in my Children’s Worship class, so I can definitely relate to your experience. Anna is 6 and I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything. The best weeks are the ones when she lets me into her world and spends our post-lesson time singing made up songs or marching around the room leading a make-believe parade. One week I could only sit in awe as she arranged the chairs in the room into theater-style seats filling some with stuffed animals and others with imaginary siblings (she’s an only child)–then proceeded to lead her own very real worship service complete with sermon and closing prayer blessing everyone.
I’d love to have more kids come to our church–especially if that would motivate more adults to participate in Christian Ed. But this slow time with one very special child has been a gift to me.
Wow! mcl I think I would like to meet your Anna! If fact, see if we can clone her to have one in all our churches! Great story.
I am really loving hearing this story. It makes the stories about your church in your first book all the more meaningful to me. In those stories, I took the strength of the bonds in your community for granted — this adds a layer of realness, for lack of a better word.
Gordon, as always, your words inspire and rekindle. Thanks for reminding us there are no little places and no little people.
Who can quarrel with a family’s desire to be a part of a church that is meaningful to them?
I can quarrel with this. My brother once quoted a man saying “You do a disservice to Christ and his body by driving by a church to attend another.” Church is the extension of God’s body and staying local holds one another accountable. I live in a small town in a rural area. While we don’t have an opportunity for the programs of other churches we do learn about the wonderful variety of God’s body.
Jason,
It took me a long time to figure this out, but church is not a thing that we will ever get right. And the idea of church lends itself to certain ideals that sound good but do not work in real life.
Let’s use an extreme example. You live in a small town. The closest church to you is a church that you could never attend and be happy or fulfilled. Let’s say that it is a church with a tv preacher who has no seminary education and keeps 80% of the money that comes in. The theology is so far right wing that they think Billy Graham is a liberal. Further, this church believes that America is the new Israel.
Across town is a church that fits your family. the theology matches yours, at least close enough. And the church roughly fits your idea of what a church should be.
You have two small children.
Will you attend the closer church because of the ideal that you have stated here? You wouldn’t want to cause harm to one part of Christ’s body by driving by it so you attend the closer church. Your children will be in Sunday School taught by a man who has a confederate flag hanging from his truck.
So you wouldn’t go to that church. Of course you wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t. Let me tell you what really will harm the body of Christ. You forcing yourself to attend that church and causing dissent and problems as you try to speak up and say what you say is right. And your resentment that builds every week you are forced to pretend you are in community ends up tearing you and your family up inside.
Remember this: You and your family are also a part of the body of Christ. Anything that harms you harms Christ.
So you would drive past that church and go to the other one. And that would be the right decision.
In real life it is often not so obvious. Sometimes you should stay to support the body of Christ even if you think you might enjoy or be enriched elsewhere. And sometimes you have to leave because you feel your family is not experiencing what they should. I think in our culture people leave too soon, too often, and for reasons that are not important enough.
But let’s not pretend that there is never a reason to leave a church or drive by one.
And if a person truly believes that the situation means they have to leave and they are truly doing so for their family, you might disagree, but you can’t fault them for it. It’s their call to make. And when you find yourself in that situation, it will be your call to make.
Unless the church you drive by relegates any one not male and heterosexual to a subordinate position. I have a difficult time calling that church “Christ’s Body.” Local–yes. Cancerous–no.
Brian,
Well then you end up driving by whatever church doesn’t fit your standards to be considered part of the body of Christ. And you’re still having to make that call. No matter how you say it, people have to decide what church is healthy and right for them. And I don’t think we can take a holier-than-thou position about that when we admit that we too would not attend a church that didn’t seem right to us.
I don’t think it is fair to say, “Well, you were driving by the body of Christ so you should have attended that church. But I only drove by the church because I could tell they are not a part of the body of Christ.”
Eh, you’d both be doing the same thing, in my view.
Gordon,
I appreciate your concern for a “holier than thou” approach; I couldn’t agree more. However, even you must concede that some churches theology does not, under any possible twist of scripture, follow the teachings of Christ. Demeaning someone because of their birth circumstances would be just one example. Personally, I am pretty tolerant within reason, meaning a group can worship and believe as they see fit. The problem is that seldom does such a belief system as what I labeled “cancerous” remain within their own walls.
Our church had two big splits, leaving us with 15-20 people – some of those recently returned from the church they thought would serve them better than our own. Losing friends was painful for my daughter and I. We had so few friends, that when our church family split, we felt lost. We are the only ones who started the church who are still members – and my daughter graduates next month and heads off to college and her new life..so now it’s me and my new wife, who’s from Nebraska and knows no one here except for the pastor and his family.
I suppose that churches are like marriages. When things get tough, it’s easier to quit than to heal. There’s a price either way. If the church isn’t built on relationships, it’s really a facade.