The trouble with Baptism: Part One

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…or, the dilemma of how to welcome non-practising Christians into church to have their Baby ‘Christened’.

In the year or so after giving birth to my daughter, it felt as though I had cornered the ‘Naming Ceremony’ market in my local area.  I got to know quite a few of the parents of babies born around the same time and, when they discovered my profession, asked if I was ‘licensed to do Christenings.’

The answer is that, as an ordained Minister of Word and Sacrament in the United Reformed Church, I am.  My call by God to preside at both adult and infant Baptisms (the ceremony at the heart of a child’s Christening service) has been recognised, and I have been formally trained.  At my previous church I baptised many babies, with the majority of the parents choosing to maintain or develop their relationship further with the congregation afterwards.

Not all did though, and there was a prevailing attitude that it was the fault of the parents – that they had somehow ‘used’ the church to get their baby ‘done’ under false pretences.

As a new parent myself, and as a minister in a role far away from the institutional norms of the church, I have come to the conclusion that this is not at all the case.  Generally speaking, parents love and want the best for their baby.  By having them ‘Christened’ they see the opportunity to mark an important rite of passage, celebrate the birth with family and friends, and do all they can to ensure their child is protected and cared for in the event that anything should happen to them.

Not all churches have the same tradition when it comes to the Sacraments (sacred ceremonies that mark God’s activity in human lives), but generally speaking, Baptism marks the candidate’s initiation into the Church. If they are adults they declare their faith and make promises to obey God and play their part in the life of the church.  For babies, unable to speak for themselves, the parents make the promises on their behalf, nominating Godparents who will assist them in the task.

I would like to suggest that the gap between the church’s formal understanding of the sacrament of Baptism, and the prevailing cultural understanding of ‘Christening’, is absolutely massive.  Parents who are not practising Christians, but have a sense that bringing their child for God’s blessing and protection, are not at fault.  They simply want to celebrate the new life they are miraculously holding in their arms, and receive God’s blessing on themselves and their child.

I do not blame church congregations for feeling used when their normally quiet Sunday morning services are invaded by a family they have barely even met before, hoards of noisy children, and inappropriately (in their eyes) dressed adults.  But I also do not hold it against those who are delighted to be in church, wearing their best new outfit, and anticipating a moving ceremony followed by a great big party.  Why shouldn’t they go to church? And why shouldn’t they be able to celebrate before God? Aren’t they God’s children just as much as those who have been attending week in, week out, for the best part of eighty years?

Sacraments are not an irrelevance. I should know, I’m in the middle of writing a book about them! But neither are they an excuse for those within the church to assume an air of scathing superiority.  ‘Christenings’ are a genuine opportunity to engage with people who may not have thought about faith before but who, on looking for the first time at that tiny bundle for which they are totally responsible, feel a stirring of something beyond themselves which might be vaguely recognised as ‘spiritual’.

The question is, how do we, within the church, help new parents harness that emotion and start to make the journey from vague spiritual stirrings to full-blown faith in Christ? If it is the first time in years (or ever) that they have thought about God, perhaps it is a bit much to expect them to be ready, within a few weeks and after a few ‘lessons’, to declare their own faith and promise to bring their child up in the life of the church.

I suspect that, in practical terms, Church baptismal traditions which have developed over centuries or, in some cases, millennia, are unlikely to be changed overnight because of one blog piece.

My experience is that, by setting the conversation about the ‘Baptism’ ceremony within the context of the ‘Christening’ event, it is possible to have conversations with new parents about what Baptism actually means and requires. They can then make an informed choice about the most appropriate way to celebrate the birth of, and ask God’s blessing on, their child.

They may well still choose Baptism (because culturally a ‘Christening’ does require ‘water’), but at least they will have a better understanding of what the water and sign of the cross on their child’s head signifies. And who knows, the ceremony which should really be a key marker on a journey of faith, might well, by the grace of God, become the initial signpost.

To read some background about the Sacrament of Baptism click here

Baptism: navigating the waters

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… or, a simple guide to where Baptism comes from, what it is, and who can have it.

Four years ago my partner in marriage and I had our baby ‘Christened’.  The event itself was one of immense joy, and lots of people came from around the country to celebrate and share the occasion with us.  But the simplicity of the service in no way represented the agonising which took place beforehand.

The details of the event itself were easy: in the community centre with a Devon cream tea to follow, and presided over by a local URC minister. Which ceremony we would choose was not such an easy decision to make: Baptism or Thanksgiving? What was the difference? As an ordained minister I knew what I wanted – but my desire to allow my daughter to choose Baptism for herself later was different to that of my husband.  He couldn’t see why we wouldn’t choose the option of having her properly initiated into the church.  It was one of those cases where theological knowledge didn’t actually help.

I don’t think ours is an uncommon experience, and I wish there had been a simple guide when we were deciding what we wanted.  Hopefully this quick guide to Baptism will help others with the same dilemma we had.

Baptism in the Bible

Baptism as a practice predates Christianity. It was undertaken in the first century by Jewish people who wished to recommit themselves to living a holy life. The ceremony would involve being immersed fully in water.  It signified the forgiveness of sins and a new chapter in a person’s spiritual journey.  John the Baptist, Jesus’ cousin, was renowned for Baptising candidates in the river Jordan. He himself Baptised Jesus.  However, he was always clear that his Baptism would in no way equate to the one initiated by Jesus.

After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I baptise you with water, but he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit. (Mark 1.7-8)

Although Jesus is not recorded as Baptising anyone, his parting instructions before he ascends into heaven are, amongst other things, Baptising believers in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit (Matt 28.19). There are several incidences of Baptism recorded in the Book of Acts, and it is referred to frequently in the other books of the New Testament. Here are two examples:

• According to the Bible, the first Christian convert on mainland Europe was a Macedonian cloth trader called Lydia.  She first encounters Paul, the persecutor turned evangelist, at the river on the outskirts of the town. Paul goes there to pray and meets a group of women, including Lydia. The author records how “The Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul.”  (Acts 16.14)  In the next verse she and her entire ‘household’ are Baptised.
• Paul himself went through a radical conversion experience which included Baptism. He was blinded by a vision of Christ on the road to Damascus, then taught in the ways of the faith by Ananias, a Christian leader he was originally on his way to arrest. Paul (who is at that point called Saul) is recorded as being Baptised shortly afterwards. Ever the zealot, he begins to proclaim Jesus the ‘Son of God’ (Acts 9.20), so successfully that he becomes the subject of the arrest warrant he himself used to use.

So what is it all about? 

Baptism is a Sacrament, described by Thomas Cranmer, author of the Church of England’s Book of Common Prayer, as:

visible signs, expressly commanded in the New Testament, which are joined with the promise of free forgiveness of our sin and of our holiness and union in Christ – there are but two: Baptism and the Supper of the Lord.  (1547)

The Reformed understanding of the sacraments, reflected in the words of Cranmer and in the theology and practice of the URC, is that there are two Gospel Sacraments – ceremonies or activities which Jesus commanded his followers to adopt. They are Baptism (Matt 28.19) and Holy Communion, also known as the Supper of the Lord or Eucharist (which means thanksgiving) (Matt 26.26-29//).

Through the immersion in, or pouring on of, water; the love and saving grace of God, offered so freely to all who believe, are acknowledged, celebrated and received.  participants are united with Christ and bound to each other, receiving through the power of the Holy Spirit the spiritual nourishment needed to empower them for the journey of faith ahead.

The water used is what is known as a ‘signifier’, a visible sign of the activity of God.  It is not simply a marker.  In the act of confessing faith and asking for God’s blessing, ordinary things are made holy, and God becomes present among those gathered as the water is poured or the candidate dunked.

Who can be Baptised?

There are two generally accepted kinds of Baptism:

• Believer’s Baptism – when the candidate is of an age to make their own commitment to Christ. This can be done by full immersion (in a river, baptistry or pool), or over a font.
• Infant Baptism – a ceremony sometimes known culturally as ‘Christening’, when an infant is brought by their parents to be Baptised, usually over a font.

Since the earliest days of Christianity, Baptism has been a key initiation ceremony, a signifier of a person’s sincere commitment to following Jesus.  The candidate is required to declare their faith in one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, then be immersed in water or have it poured on, as a symbol of the cleansing power of the Holy Spirit and their new identity as member of the Church. Whether infants were Baptised in Biblical times is unclear.  We do not know if the ‘household’ of Lydia, Baptised in its entirety, included minors, and other corporate references to Baptism are equally unclear (Acts 16.33, 1 Cor. 12.13, Gal 3.27, 1 Peter 3.21).  However we do know that, in the third century, Cyprian advocated infant Baptism, and by the fifth or sixth centuries it had become an accepted practice.

While all churches advocate Believers Baptism, not all offer the Baptism of infants. Roman Catholics and the Church of England routinely Baptise babies, while the Baptists, as their name suggests, hold Baptism in particularly high regard.  For them it is a key marker, an occasion during which a person demonstrates their commitment to following Christ, and is therefore only possible for those old enough to make that decision themselves.

Within the United Reformed Church, only two of the three contributing traditions practise infant Baptism (Congregationalist and Presbyterian). The Churches of Christ follow a tradition of Believers’ Baptism by full immersion – with ex-Churches of Christ URCs still in possession of their Baptistries.  One thing which unites all three is the conviction that, whenever it happens, and by whatever means, Baptism – the ceremony through which one enters the church – can only happen once.

Baptism or Thanksgiving/Dedication?

The journey to becoming a Christian can be a complicated one, and is unique for each person. For some it is a momentary experience, a sudden ‘being born again’, so powerful that a person is changed forever. For others it can take as a long as a lifetime.  Being Baptised, whether it is a choice made on a child’s behalf by their parents or by a believing adult, is just as individual, and the expectations of what is appropriate will be influenced by the practices adopted by the tradition with which they are most familiar.

For those feeling unready to declare their faith and commit to following Jesus, but who want to celebrate the birth of a child and have him or her blessed, there are alternatives.  In the URC there is a Service of Thanksgiving, which includes the blessing of the child.  The benefit of choosing this ceremony is that the child is given the option of deciding for themselves later whether or not they want to be Baptised.  There are some for whom the presence of water is important.  It is a signifier – more than just a symbol of God’s love and blessing – and not having it just wouldn’t seem ‘proper’.

As can be seen from this outline, the sacrament of Baptism is a holy act, located at the very heart of church life.  Christians believe that through it, God is at work, so it is never to be taken lightly.  Anyone considering Baptism for themselves or their baby should contact the church they would like to conduct the ceremony, and should expect there to be some form of preparation before the ceremony can take place.

Faith inspiring action through the power of touch

… or, why the ministry of touch is about more than just hugging

Unsurprisingly, one of Hug Cullompton‘s main spiritual activities is hugging, a practice not without controversy.  When our delegation went to the Town Council to ask for sponsorship, it was suggested that we might be a safeguarding risk! The community police officer simply pointed out that we weren’t forcing anyone to do anything. The Town Council voted overwhelmingly to support Hug Cullompton, offering to part-fund the tabards we wear to show that we are official ‘huggers’.

What might seem a simple act – hugging others – is reflective of a deep theology we share. You can read more about it here. Human beings are bodily creations. We are made in the image of a God who is love, who loves unconditionally, and who chose to take on bodily form in the person of Jesus. As Paul the Apostle writes in the Bible, human bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 3.6),  “treasure in clay jars” (2 Cor. 4.7) to be respected and cherished.

This emphasis on physicality has inspired us to serve in three key ways

1. Providing positive, loving, unthreatening physical contact – or hugging!

A group of us regularly adorn tabards and attend town events, offering anyone who wants one a hug. Those who don’t are offered a card containing the slogan, ‘a free hug, just for you’, which they can keep or pass on to someone else.  Over the years we have become well known in the town, even sought out.  One widowed lady told us that, since her husband had died a few years before, she had gone from being hugged every day to no physical contact at all. The hug we gave her that day was priceless!

2. Caring for human bodies

On Wellbeing Wednesdays we open our room in the High Street for anyone to pop in for a hug, a chat, cuppa, prayer or treatment.  Our purpose is to offer wholeness – in body, mind and soul.  We have a variety of clients and volunteers, of differing ages and backgrounds, and we welcome each individual in their own right, making no assumptions about why they might be there or what they are seeking or offering.  Through the time given and complimentary treatments offered, our clients can begin to get to the root of what it is burdening them, whether it be emotional, spiritual or practical.  While leaving medical issues to medical professionals, we can offer an alternative way of viewing the journey to wholeness, enabling people to find peace, joy and a sense of their own worth.

3. Ministry of presence in the community

One stated objective – described sometimes as ‘Hugging Cullompton’ – is to make a transformative difference in the town,  Our pattern is to discern a need, find a way to address it then, when it is ready, give it autonomy, bless it, and let it go. Projects have included a community fair, festival venues, art exhibitions and, most recently, the establishment of A Culm Valley Men in Sheds organisation.

Our name, logo and activities are all the consequence of periods of shared prayer/reflection/meditation. We are touched by the ‘Divine Embrace’ of a God who is love, and can in turn reach out and embrace others.  As it says in the Bible:

Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. (1 John 4.11-12)

A theology of touch

or, why Hug Cullompton hugs in the first place.

The Bible tells us that humankind is created in the image of God (Gen. 1.26-27) .  We are embodied, an immortal soul housed in a temporary shell (2 Cor.5.1-5).  Like Adam and Eve in Genesis chapter 2, we are meant not to be alone, but to live in relationship with others; and living in relationship with others – whether we like it or not – necessarily includes physical touch.

The importance of touch

That Jesus’ way of revealing his messianic identity runs contrary to accepted cultural norms, should be no surprise to those who know their Bible.  He is renowned for dining with sinners and befriending the lost.  But the most revealing encounters of all, those which flesh out the identity of Jesus as the most unconventional of saviours, invariably include touch:

• He demonstrates his priestly identity by laying his hands on and blessing children (Matthew 9.13-15 //);
• He is anointed by a woman whose hair is hanging lose (a sign of disrepute), and who wipes the perfume away with mix of her hair and her tears (Mark 14.3-9, John 12.3-8 //); and
• On the night of the Last Supper, when he institutes the sacramental practice of sharing bread and wine in remembrance of him, he first washes the feet of the disciples – an activity usually carried out only by the most lowly (John 13.3-14). The man, who is God made human, turns Kingship on its head in a supreme act of servanthood.

And when, following the meal,  Jesus is arrested, the ultimate betrayal is committed through the most intimate of touches – a kiss (Mark 14.43-46 //).

After the resurrection Mary Magdalene reaches for him in the garden (John 20.15-18), Thomas is invited to touch his hands and his side (John 20.26-29), Jesus is bodily present as he walks alongside a couple on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24.13-35), conversing and sharing a meal with them, and soon afterwards he appears on the beach, cooking for, and sharing breakfast with, his disciples (John 21.4-14).

A whole host of scholars, including Ched Myers, NT Wright, James DG Dunn and Andrew Harvey, have explored at length the radical nature of Jesus’ ministry (see ‘Suggested Reading’ Below).  Bob Johnson, in his book When Heaven Invades Earth, suggests that the true greatness of Christ is revealed, not in messiahship as understood by his first century peers (they expected a revolutionary overthrower of the Imperial Roman Power), but in his solidarity with the poor, the disempowered, the lost and the alone. The most remarkable thing is Christ’s willingness to touch those considered untouchable – because, as sacred creations knitted together in their mother’s womb (Psalm 139), no-one is beyond God’s touch.

Healing through touch

A major part of Jesus’ ministry was healing – bringing wholeness to others.  He cured physical diseases, but also relieved mental infirmities and offered forgiveness to those who needed it. Despite a cultural hesitancy to allow physical contact with people who were considered ‘unclean’ (due to illness or lack of morality)  Jesus was never hesitant in touching anyone. Early in the book of Luke, Jesus “lays hands” on all those who come to him at sundown for healing.  To heal a deaf man with speech difficulties he puts his fingers in the man’s ears, and spits on his hands then touches his tongue. Later a man’s sight is restored after Jesus mingles mud with spittle and rubs it on his eyes.  When a woman who has been suffering from menstrual problems for 18 years touches his cloak, Jesus feels the power go out of him. Although he has not seen who she is, it is the sense of touch which is important. Her reaching for him, combined with her faith in his ability to perform miracles, results in her miraculous healing from a longterm illness which, according to the culture of the time, had made her unclean in the eyes of her peers.

There is something both intimate and earthy about these physical expressions of loving service.  Jesus isn’t afraid of getting stuck in; of allowing human beings to be physically touched by God.  Although Jesus’ healing power is not dependent on touch –  he is recorded as both raising men from the dead and healing two children close to death without needing to be alongside the bodies or even present – there is an expectation that, by the laying on of hands, Jesus heals.

In acknowledging the importance of laying hands on someone, Jesus is being recognised by his peers as having more than a coincidental healing talent. His actions are equated with anointing. They are holy acts – acts which bring physical, emotional and spiritual wholeness to the person on which they are laid.

This focus on wholeness has been explored at length by the members of Hug Cullompton.  The way we eat, pray, exercise, laugh, live and worship, both together and in our daily lives, are discussed regularly. Wellbeing Wednesdays is our opportunity to extend our theology of touch to anyone who is in need of help, whether they come for regular ‘sessions’ or just pop in on the off-chance. The member who started Wellbeing Wednesdays is herself a healer and life coach, practising a variety of disciplines in order to help people look beyond physical symptoms to the emotional or spiritual issues might be at the root of their discomfort.

We never suggest that people stop taking the advice, medication or treatment offered by their GP and other health professionals, and we will often give details of nutritionists, osteopaths or other professionally qualified practitioners who we think might be able to help. But while the NHS really only has only limited resources to address medical problems, at Hug Cullompton we can give the time needed for to a person to begin to explore finding wholeness.

The touch of the Holy Spirit

During his final evening with the disciples, Jesus promised them an advocate, the Holy Spirit (John 14.25-26, 15.26-27; Acts 1.6-8).  This is the aspect of God which came to the apostles on the day of Pentecost, and the person of the Trinity which remains present in the world to this day.  In the book of Acts the coming of the Holy Spirit is described as being like tongues of fire, touching each one on the believers (Acts 2.1-3).  Throughout history followers of Jesus have described a similar experience when they feel the power of the Holy Spirit. It may not be seen or heard, but it is certainly experienced as a tangible ‘thing’.

Bill Johnson’s theology of healing is a pneumatological one (meaning it is founded on an understanding of how the Holy Spirit works in the world). He argues that, in becoming fully human, Jesus emptied himself of his divinity (Phil 2.5-10), and became entirely dependent on the power of Holy Spirit to carry out his work in the world.  It is through the power of the Holy Spirit that Christ heals infirmities, feeds thousands, stills storms and walks on water. Johnson’s conclusion is that, by the power of the same Spirit, all humans can equal this – a rather far fetched assumption to say the least!  However, the presumption that human empowerment, in the name of Christ and fuelled by the Holy Spirit, can achieve immeasurably more than can initially be envisaged, is not (Eph 3.20-21). Miracles do happen, healing does take place. I have seen with my own eyes, and experienced for myself, the healing power of prayer.

The Body of Christ in reaching out

From very early on in their history, Christian communities described themselves as  the Body of Christ (1 Cor. 12).  This understanding of corporate embodiment is a fundamental aspect of the common Christian life, both in the way individual members feel a tangible sense of attachment to each other, and how they reach out together to the world around them.

Hug Cullompton has certainly adopted an attitude of corporate embodiment. We committed, from day one, to be there for ourselves, each other and out town.  We have initiated projects which address personal wholeness and healing, but also others which embrace and promulgate a holistic vision for residents. We have made tea, given hugs, prayed with and ministered to a multitude of people in the past five years. In addition we have promoted talent, encouraged people to explore the Arts, raised money for the local swimming pool campaign and started an organisation providing friendship and purpose, specifically for men.

Our name – Hug Cullompton – is no coincidence. Both the title and ministry attached to it are based on a great deal of prayer, reflection and mutual love.  As a body we reach out to touch others – both individuals and organisations.  In committing to bring about wholeness to our town and its residents, we practice what Jesus both preached and demonstrated:

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John 1.14)

Suggested Reading:

Dunn, James DG, 2011, Jesus, Paul and the Gospels (Grand Rapids, Eerdmans)

Harvey, Andrew, 1999, Son of Man: The Mystical Path to Christ (New York, Putnam)

Johnson, Bill, 2003, When Heaven Invades Earth: A Practical Guide to a Life of Miracles (Shippensburg, PA, Destiny Image)

Myers, Ched, 2008, Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark’s Story of Jesus (New York, Orbis)

Wright, NT, 2012, How God became King: The Forgotten Story of the Gospels (London, HarperOne)

 

 

 

 

living creatively with difference

or, getting to the heart of what really matters

When I started training for ministry in 1999 I was introduced to a whole new range of terms – well, not introduced, actually.  I was expected to know them. They included the words conservative, liberal, fundamentalist, evangelical and open. I knew the first two – although I associated them with political voting preferences rather than types of theology – the others were new to me.

I realised very quickly that I was supposed to select one or two of these terms to describe ‘where I stood’ theologically. Whichever combination  I chose would also tell people what style of worship I preferred.  Invariably people would say, “Well, I don’t like boxes, but I suppose I would describe myself as…”, immediately putting themselves in whichever shaped box most suited.

My introduction to those terms also signalled the start of my education in how much the Church struggles with difference.  I have observed over two decades how using such labels creates divides within churches and denominations.  Even today there remains a legacy of suspicion, deflecting the church from its main task of demonstrating, and introducing people to, the joy of a faith in Christ.

One of my most inspiring theological discussion partners is a local Christian about my age.  There are fundamental differences between us.  She would probably describe herself as an ‘evangelical’, while I hail from the more ‘liberal’ end of the tradition. Embarking on a missiological journey alongside non-Christians has enabled us to set aside those differences which, in other circumstances, might have caused problems.  We can accept that only one of us believes in creationism (the idea that God made the world in six days), and we can agree to differ on whether the image of the future as depicted in the book of Revelation is meant to be taken literally or not. What might potentially divide us pales into insignificance when set alongside what really matters: following Jesus and enabling others to do the same.

Moving beyond such issues, in order to hear what God might be calling us to do and be, has been profoundly important for both of us.  Working alongside people, for whom these sets of labels have no meaning, has exposed how theological difference has impacted on the Church’s sense unity, and inspired in us a greater determination to follow the path that God has set for us – to be disciples of Christ in communion, each in our own way.

I am saddened when I hear of faithful Christians seemingly unable to move beyond the unhelpful divisions of the late twentieth century.  I am not saying that the issues on which churches differ don’t matter; but I wish they could work more creatively to resolve them, adopting an attitude of openness and listening rather than barely disguised hostility.

Perhaps then we could focus on reaching the 94% of people in Britain who don’t go to church, rather than tying ourselves up in knots over what divides the 6% who do.

For an article about reaching the 94% of British people who don’t go to church click  here.

Thinking again about ‘Worship and Mission’

…or, being realistic in churches about what can be achieved.

In Worship and Mission After Christendom (2011), Alan and Eleanor Kreider suggest that, until recently, the terms ‘Worship’ and ‘Mission’ were rarely used together as a single phrase. In Christendom times responsibility for ‘Worship’ was the job of professional clergy, created for a population who habitually attended once a week.  Meanwhile the task of ‘Mission’ was handed to a separate group of professionals, employed and commissioned by organisations such as the London Missionary Society, Church Mission Society and Baptist Missionary Society, who were sent overseas to convert non-Christians in far away lands. Meanwhile, the job of congregations in this country was to fund and pray for them. (pp.1-3)

In many churches the prevailing culture which separates worship from mission remains so utterly dominant it is hard to break.  Religion has, until recently, been the preserve of our personal lives. That is not to say individual Christians haven’t always lived out their own call to discipleship. It is simply that responsibility for a church’s corporate mission was seen as the responsibility of a small group of experts.

Those in the habit of ‘going to church’ have been used to listening to a sermon, the contents of which they can absorb and adopt privately, with no requirement to discuss what they have heard; not with the worshippers sitting next to them or – heaven help them – with someone they might encounter outside the church.

Even for those who know change is both necessary and inevitable, being the product of Christendom culture makes the challenge of becoming actively ‘missional’ uncomfortable.  The truth is that, for most members who are the product of Christendom Church, the transition from passive worshipper to full-on evangelist is terrifying – and utterly implausible.

What then, are we to do, if we who are passionate about the Church and want to see a future for it, actually find the prospect of ‘evangelism’ terrifying?

Changing Sunday Morning Worship (or not!)

Let us begin with the issue of worship.

Steve Aisthorpe, in his fascinating study The Invisible Church: Learning from the Experiences of Churchless Christians (2016), starts by debunking seven myths about why churches are in decline. One is “if congregations do the right things leavers will become returners.”

Although 30% of leavers surveyed in the 2015 Faith in Scotland study said they would consider returning to church if they were offered a different style of worship, the majority said they wouldn’t. While some non-attenders interviewed by Aisthorpe would consider joining a small group for discussion, the majority have found leaving the church liberating, enabling them to pursue what they believe to be their Christian vocation outside the bounds of institutional religion.

This implies that, while offering different opportunities for Christian worship and/or formation holds merit, simply changing services on Sunday mornings is not the answer. Adding the odd chorus or discussion section to a traditional service format is not going to attract anyone new – although it might appeal to some who are disillusioned but still attending.

The positive outcome of this myth-debunking is to relieve traditional congregations, who value their style of worship and are fed spiritually by it, from feeling they ought to change.  My suggestion is that, when it comes to Sunday mornings leave well alone, but get those who do attend to accept that, while it is right for them, their preferred method of spiritual succour is not  for everyone.

If Jesus is for everyone – and I sincerely hope every Christian believes that – then an alternative form of worship and/or Christian formation needs to be found – or at lest experimented with, at a different time and possibly in a different venue.  Sunday morning worshippers need not attend these new activities – but they should be advocating for, encouraging, praying for and blessing them. That in itself is a change in attitude, changing the focus of the church from inward to outward looking.

Changing the focus of the church

In their book The Permanent Revolution: Apostolic Imagination and Practice for the 21st Century Church (2012), Alan Hirsch and Tim Catchim suggest that, to create fertile ground for the church in the 21st century, a change in mindset is needed. They suggest that, rather than using time and energy maintaining the church as it is, Christians should be encouraged to think creatively how they might best contribute to the mission of God.  

In practice this means refocusing one’s efforts away from church activities, and concentrating on how to be ‘salt and light’ in the world.  Focussing the growth of the church on attracting people on Sunday mornings with the expectation that half the British population will wake up one morning with a sudden desire to ‘go to church’ is utterly unrealistic.

One of the benefits of this change in focus is that it releases members of churches which no longer provide huge numbers of activities, from toddler groups to tea dances, from a sense of failure and guilt.  “We used to..” and “We’ve already tried…” are rarely helpful ways to start a sentence when discerning what God is calling churches to next.

Instead members might consider their own life of discipleship – not necessarily the rotas they are on or church organisations they support – but their own day to day activities.  It might be that in their spare time they do the shopping for a neighbour or help out at a local charity shop. In their professional lives they might work in an office or provide a service for others.  As members of a family with friendships they will have a circle of relationships to which they are committed.

Hirsch and Catchim suggest that none of these things are divorced from the life of faith, just because they do not take place within the confines of a church building or context of a church family.  Discipleship is the act of living as a follower of Jesus; not just at church but during every hour of every day. Serving the Church – which is the body of Christ – is incorporated into all these things; and they are all aspects of building the Kingdom of God, regardless of their level of interaction with the institutional Church.

Church members will often display a sense of guilt because they can’t manage to take on yet another task for the church.  By transforming the way discipleship is defined, channels are opened up for people to continue their walk with Jesus guilt-free, liberated to enjoy life more, and become an example of Christianity that inspires and attracts people to want to know more about.  The London Institute of Contemporary Christianity has excellent resources to help churches think in this way. One course,  Fruitfulness on the Front Line, has been successfully used by churches. See here how it inspired members of Muddiford United Reformed Church.

Being Realistic about Who Can Achieve What

Despite what seems like a relentless desire by some within church traditions to equate discipleship with evangelism, they are not the same thing. Paul’s describes a multitude of gifts required to “build up” the Christian community (Ephesians 4.1-16). Only one of these is ‘evangelist’.  Discipleship can take on many forms, one of which is persuading others to follow Jesus, but not everyone has strong debating skills in their make-up.  Trying to make people what they’re not – for the sake of Christ – is not, I would suggest, very Biblical.

For those congregations without natural evangelists it is very depressing to keep hearing they must ‘make new disciples’ if ‘making new disciples’ is understood only to refer to evangelism. The truth is that few people come to faith through hearing a testimony and undergoing an instant radical conversion experience. For most it is a journey and, if current experts are to be believed, a longer one than it once was.

There are ways of helping people along without headlong evangelistic fervour. A more realistic way of doing it is accompaniment. Someone being accompanied on those first steps of faith might eventually be ready to attend a course such a Alpha or Essence, but equally, if not more important, is the gentle presence of someone alongside, who is open to questions, having been inspirational enough to make someone want to ask in the first place.

Attracting New Sunday Morning Worshippers

I am constantly amazed by those who are puzzled that no-one new comes to their church – when they have never invited anyone.  “Isn’t that the job of the minister?” asks a member of a congregation which hasn’t had its own minister for many years, and has no real prospect of obtaining one.

The evidence is that the majority of people who start to attend church do not do so in a vacuum. They are attracted by the example of a Christian known to them, are invited to church by them, are welcomed when they attend, and are accompanied as they are introduced to what ‘going to church’ is like.

For someone completely new to church culture, attending a Sunday service can be both intimidating and puzzling. Although the members of a church have emotional attachments both to their fellow worshippers and building, new people will not.  Troubling aspects of services such as poor preaching, problems with the music, inadequate heating or uncomfortable chairs will be overlooked by those emotionally attached; but if someone trying church for the first time is bored, cold or uncomfortable it is unlikely they will return.

Churches which do grow through worship services invest in creating a quality worship experience.  This is not to say everyone wants church to include a professional worship band and renowned preacher.  But acknowledging and committing to addressing issues which might be putting off current worshippers from inviting someone else to ‘come to church’ could be a start in transforming the quality of worship experience they offer.

This article has been an attempt to make a few tentative suggestions for those who desperately desire to see their church grow and thrive, but cannot see a way beyond the current decline. The changes I am suggesting are not expensive – except for churches who might decide to employ professionals to continue a traditional pattern of ‘Worship and Mission’. They are to do with realisation, a change in attitude, and a change in focus; simple ways to share a faith in Jesus which can be sustaining, challenging, and ultimately irresistible to others.

Suggested Reading:

Aisthorpe, S, 2016, The Invisible Church: Learning from the Experiences of Churchless Christians (Edinburgh, St Andrews Press)

Hirsch , A and Catchim, T, 2012, The Permanent Revolution: Apostolic Imagination and Practice for the 21st Century Church (San Francisco, Jossey Bass)

Kreider A. and Kreider E, 2011, Worship and Mission After Christendom (Milton Keynes, Paternoster)