Most of the work I do with churches centres around perceived problems -- numbers declining, finances uncertain, Boards not working, staff and leaders stressed out.
We can become so focused on our problems and deficits, though, that we don't see the good things that are happening.
So I want to feature good news stories from Waterloo Presbytery to remind us that it's not all doom and gloom.
On June 11, I was honoured to be one of the "dignitaries" at the Grand Re-Opening of the newly renovated facilities at Trillium United Church in Cambridge. It has been ten years since the tthree United Churches in Preston -- Zion, St. Andrew's and St. Paul's -- amalgamated, and there is a sense of excitement about the future.
The renovations were designed to make an old building accessible to those with mobility issues. But what really struck me about yesterday was the sense that building renovations were part of a much larger vision of ministry.
Mark Rutledge, the minister at Trillium, talked about the moment when the penny dropped, and they were able to see accessibility as an aspect of the radical hospitality of the Gospel. Making it possible for anyone to use the facilities is one expression of the larger desire to create a culture of inclusion.
So, part of Trillium's commitment to accessibility has led to changes in worship and language. They have worked to remove the "churchy jargon" from the way they present themselves. They have tried to become more aware of the unseen barriers that keep people separated, not just from the building, but from the Gospel.
I know from talking to Mark and other leaders that Trillium struggles with many of the challenges shared by most, if not all, United Church congregations. Their vision of ministry is still very much a work in progress.
But I'd like to hold up Trillium as one example of how a technical problem (getting people in and out of the building) has been viewed as part of a larger commitment to ministry.
That's good news!
If you have something happening at your church that you're excited about, and that you'd like others to know about, send it to me at pmiller@watpres.ca
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Welcoming Young People to Mainline Churches
A really short post -- from me.
But a link to a really helpful post on Rachel Held Evan's Blog entitled "7 Ways to Welcome Young People to the Mainline."
Check it out -- and follow the links to places where mainline churches are renewing.
http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/welcome-young-people-mainline-church
And here is the link to the Washington Post article she references, "Want Millennials Back in the Pews? Stop Trying to Make the Church Cool."
http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/jesus-doesnt-tweet/2015/04/30/fb07ef1a-ed01-11e4-8666-a1d756d0218e_story.html
But a link to a really helpful post on Rachel Held Evan's Blog entitled "7 Ways to Welcome Young People to the Mainline."
Check it out -- and follow the links to places where mainline churches are renewing.
http://rachelheldevans.com/blog/welcome-young-people-mainline-church
And here is the link to the Washington Post article she references, "Want Millennials Back in the Pews? Stop Trying to Make the Church Cool."
http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/jesus-doesnt-tweet/2015/04/30/fb07ef1a-ed01-11e4-8666-a1d756d0218e_story.html
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Asset Based Ministry

The answer, of course, is that it's both -- depending on how you choose to look at it.
We are conditioned to look at the empty half of the glass. We are drawn to see deficiencies, deficits, shortages, needs. Partly, it's human nature. But it's also being thoroughly immersed in a consumer culture which depends on all of us seeing what we need rather than what we have. After all, if we were content with what we have, we would stop buying more stuff and our economy would crash. So we're programmed to be more aware of what we don't have than what we do have.
But what if focusing on deficits prevents us from seeing the unrecognized, therefore untapped and unused, assets, gifts and abilities that are already in our midst?
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John McKnight |
John McKnight teaches at Northwestern University in Chicago. McKnight has pioneered something called "Asset Based Community Development." It's based on the simple belief that every community, no matter how disadvantaged and deficient it may appear, has a wealth of assets. Community development is a matter of identifying and harnessing those latent assets to build community.
What happens instead is that the people in these communities are turned into needy "clients" who require institutional and professional services to survive. This leads to a cycle of dependency and disempowerment, and the inability of people to take charge of their own lives and solve their own problems.
(You can learn more about Asset Based Community Development by going to www.abundantcommunity.com )
There are so many parallels to the church today. We, too, tell a constant story of deficiency, deficit, decline and impending death. Largely this is because we operate out of a remembered model of church that thrived in the middle of the 20th century when it was created, but that no longer works in today's world. Our vision of what a church is and what a church ought to be able to do is powerfully controlled by this memory, and it always makes us think we are failing in comparison to the church we once knew.
Churches almost always start by talking about their needs -- more people, more young people, more money, more staff. What do we make churches do before they search for a new minister? Complete a "Joint NEEDS Assessment." Our default question is, "What do you need?"
McKnight's argues that the first question in any community should always be "What are your assets?" Assets can address deficits, but deficits cannot create assets. The key question is not "What do you need?" but "What do you have?"
Broadway United Methodist Church in Indianapolis, Indiana is a former tall steeple, big pulpit church that, like many of our congregations, began to decline in the 1960s. Ten years ago, they had a Sunday attendance of 75 in a sanctuary seating 1250. Sound familiar?
Broadway, led by its Pastor Mike Mather, made a radical decision. They decided to scrap all their traditional community outreach ministries like their soup kitchen, their youth program. They realized that they for all their effort, conditions in their community were getting worse, not better. Their programs made them feel good, but did little to improve people's lives.
Instead, they went out into the community and asked questions about people gifts, abilities and assets -- not what they lacked, but what they had. One question they used was, "Tell us about three things you can do that you could teach somebody else."
The results were startling. They discovered that in this lower income, "disadvantaged" community was a wealth of gifts they did not know was there. The church had brought in an "expert" in community development from a nearby university to tell them how to start a community garden. Their survey showed that there were 35 accomplished gardeners living near the church. So they began to tap into their abilities and knowledge.
http://www.broadwayumc.org/index.html
http://www.abundantcommunity.com/home/stories/parms/1/story/20150430_death_and_resurrection_of_an_urban_church.html
http://www.abundantcommunity.com/home/stories/parms/1/story/20150518_from_charity_to_empowerment_interview_with_mike_mather_of_indianapoliss_broadway_umc.html
Moving from needs assessment to asset assessment has completely changed Broadway's understanding of what it means to be a church in their neighbourhood.
So what if we were to make the same commitment -- to divert the time and energy we spend listing our deficits, and began to build on our assets -- and not just those of the congregation, but the community around us?
True, most of our churches are struggling to sustain an aging building, full time paid ministry and the traditional round of church programs. And we see decline, disbandment and death as the only alternative.
I am convinced that, even though our culture is not drawn to many traditional forms of congregational life, there is a spiritual yearning and a movement of the Spirit that the is open to the Christian story in new and undiscovered ways. Our calling is to become communities that are able to share that story in ways that touch people's lives.
I am also convinced that in our congregations, stressed and struggling as they are, we have a wealth of assets we are not seeing and not releasing.
And that's the place to start -- with what we do have, not what we don't have.
Friday, May 8, 2015
"YOU give them something to eat."

So began "Somewhere Else" -- or "Bread Church" as it's affectionately known. Twice a week, a community of all different kinds of people gather to bake bread, to share Scripture and prayer, and to be a church. Two-thirds of those involved are under 25. (See a recent update about Somewhere Else here: https://www.freshexpressions.org.uk/stories/somewhereelse/update
St. Benedict's Table is an Anglican church in Winnipeg. On Sunday evenings, they gather around the eucharistic table to pray, worship and build community. A large percentage of those in attendance are university students. http://stbenedictstable.ca/
In New York City, "Dinner Church" meets every Sunday evening. It's a new community started by St. Lydia's Episcopal Church that is built around a shared meal. Dinner isn't just something church people "put on" for others. It's what the church does. It's what this church is. Anyone who shows up is given a job to do -- setting up tables, peeling potatoes -- and the meal is an integral part of the worship as it was in New Testament times.
Everyone is welcome. And, writes Rev. Emily Scott, "who shows up is a source of surprise and delight. Often we’ll be joined by folks who make their home in the park across the street, or kids who were riding by on bikes, or 15 college students staying in the church on a mission trip. All are welcome at the table." http://www.episcopalcafe.com/dinner_church_sit_down_at_the_table/ ;
http://www.stlydias.org/
People are hungry. Sometimes they're hungry because they can't afford to feed themselves. Sometimes they're hungry because deep down they know that they can't live by bread alone, but don't know where to find nourishment for their souls.
And people are lonely. Many people can go an entire week without having a significant interaction with another person.
At the same time, if there's one thing that churches, whether big or small, rich or poor, are good at, it's food. Preparing food. Serving food. Eating food.
Often, though, we miss the full potential of the act of sharing food together. Writers like Margaret Visser have reminded us that sharing food is at the heart of human community. And at the centre of both Jewish and Christian faith is a shared meal. Jesus lived in a culture where every meal was a sacred occasion because it called forth gratitude to God, and openness to one's neighbours.
Everywhere you turn in Scripture, you find people eating. Much of Jesus' ministry took place at the table. That most basic physical action is often the gateway to the presence of God.
So, as we obsess with how to "renew the church," one answer might be right under our nose. The secret may not be in yet one more "revisioning process" or "revitalization strategy," but in recovering what the church does best -- inviting hungry people to come and be fed, and then sending them out to share what they have received with others. It might be that simple.
We have a rich, deep heritage of holy practices that Jesus has given to us. In these frantic and exhausting times, perhaps we need to find ways of rediscovering those practices and allowing them to nourish us for mission.
If have a story about the place of food in your church's life, or would like to explore how eating together could strengthen your ministry, please invite me to sit down for a conversation -- maybe over some good food.
Rev. Paul Miller
Waterloo Presbytery Support Minister
pmiller@watpres.ca
226-929-0949
Friday, May 1, 2015
Jesus at the Laundromat
Once, at a Joint Needs Assessment meeting, people from the church were excited about the new housing developments that were going up in their community. Surely all that
building would be good for their church.
"Who is moving into all those new houses?" I asked.
"Uh...." Long silence.
"No, I mean, who is living in those new houses? Are they young couples, families, empty-nesters, retirees? Do they commute to work, register their kids in minor ball or hockey? Are some of them new Canadians?"
"Gee. We're not sure."
One of the church's main challenges in obeying Jesus' command to love our neighbour is that we often have no idea who our neighbour is.
Last week I heard a friend describe a church he knows about in Kansas that was wondering how to connect with their neighbours.
"Where do people gather?" someone asked. Well, Starbucks. The local bar. The gym. Where else?
One place they discovered that people gathered was the laundromat across from the
church. Many of them were single Moms. So folks from the church started to show up at the laundromat. They took a box of doughnuts (donuts in Kansas) and a pocketful of change. They paid for their laundry. And, since people have a lot of time to kill while they're waiting for the dryer to finish, they talked. But more importantly, they listened. Listened as these women at the laundromat gradually opened up and told their stories and relationships were built.
Churches are often frustrated that they feel so disconnected from their communities and don't know what to do about it. This is a story about a church that found a simple solution to that problem. They simply found out where people were, and went there to meet them, talk to them, get to know them, love them.
Not so they could entice them to come join their church, but simply because Jesus commanded them to love their neighbour.
building would be good for their church.
"Who is moving into all those new houses?" I asked.
"Uh...." Long silence.
"No, I mean, who is living in those new houses? Are they young couples, families, empty-nesters, retirees? Do they commute to work, register their kids in minor ball or hockey? Are some of them new Canadians?"
"Gee. We're not sure."
One of the church's main challenges in obeying Jesus' command to love our neighbour is that we often have no idea who our neighbour is.
Last week I heard a friend describe a church he knows about in Kansas that was wondering how to connect with their neighbours.
"Where do people gather?" someone asked. Well, Starbucks. The local bar. The gym. Where else?
One place they discovered that people gathered was the laundromat across from the
church. Many of them were single Moms. So folks from the church started to show up at the laundromat. They took a box of doughnuts (donuts in Kansas) and a pocketful of change. They paid for their laundry. And, since people have a lot of time to kill while they're waiting for the dryer to finish, they talked. But more importantly, they listened. Listened as these women at the laundromat gradually opened up and told their stories and relationships were built.
Churches are often frustrated that they feel so disconnected from their communities and don't know what to do about it. This is a story about a church that found a simple solution to that problem. They simply found out where people were, and went there to meet them, talk to them, get to know them, love them.
Not so they could entice them to come join their church, but simply because Jesus commanded them to love their neighbour.
Monday, April 20, 2015
Small is Beautiful
Often, the answers you get are determined by the questions you ask.
On March 19, I gathered with 21 wonderful people from seven small congregations with part time ministers at Bridgeport United in Kitchener. We spent a couple of hours sharing experiences and encouragement.
We started off with each person answering this question: "What's the best thing about belonging to a small church?"
I thought there might be some Umming and Ah-ing -- some awkward silences as people pondered "Gee, what is good about my little church?" I guess I'm just so used to folks from small churches feeling badly about who they are, their lack of resources, their problems challenges, I expected them to struggle with the question.
Boy, was I wrong. The responses came pouring out --
“Humour,” “family,” “acceptance,” “friendship,” “Everyone is needed,” “love,” "fellowship,” “Knowing people’s stories,” “intimacy,“ "community,” “history,” “familiarity,” “Everyone can fit into Bruce's rec room when the heat isn’t working at the church,” “uniqueness,” “close knit,” “You know everybody,” “You can gain confidence in a small group,” “heritage."
If we just give people the opportunity to say what makes them feel good about being part of a small church, they are all over it. People love their small churches.
I then asked folks to "Talk about a time when your church was at its very best." They shared experiences of everyone working together to achieve a common purpose, when they rallied together to help someone in need, when they responded to a crisis.
Frequently, sharing food was at the centre.
They're well aware of their challenges -- shaky finances, too few people doing too much work, trouble holding onto young people, creaky old buildings -- but that's only to say that there's no such thing as a church that doesn't have to face issues and problems.
We also talked about assets. It's so easy to focus on deficits -- what's missing, what's lacking, what's in short supply, what we used to have that we no longer have -- that we fail to see the significant assets that even the smallest church possesses --
"God, faith, caring, determination, music, expectancy, our building, organ, labyrinth, people, our baconburger stove, knowledge, wisdom, humour, resourcefulness, heritage, the Bible, space, leaders, location, seasons"
I really don't think that our problem is that we have so many small churches. All churches in the New Testament were what we would call "small." All New Testament churches were house churches, so they could only be as big as could fit into the house of the most well-to-do member -- in other words, around 40-50.
Most churches in the world are small churches, and the world-wide growth of Christianity is being driven by small, often home-based churches.
We are struggling with the fact that many small churches used to be much larger. They have declined. And, we're dealing with the expectation that a healthy church has to be a certain size, with a certain kind of building, full-time minister(s) and a busy round of programs for all ages. Our small churches are working against their own memories of what the church once was, and it's what is preventing them from re-imagining themselves and moving forward.
In any case, it seems to me that we have two choices. One, to simply watch small churches continue to grow smaller and more discouraged -- or, two, leverage the assets that small churches possess to develop a reimagined and reinvigorated ministry.
I know which choice I'm in favour of.
On March 19, I gathered with 21 wonderful people from seven small congregations with part time ministers at Bridgeport United in Kitchener. We spent a couple of hours sharing experiences and encouragement.
We started off with each person answering this question: "What's the best thing about belonging to a small church?"
I thought there might be some Umming and Ah-ing -- some awkward silences as people pondered "Gee, what is good about my little church?" I guess I'm just so used to folks from small churches feeling badly about who they are, their lack of resources, their problems challenges, I expected them to struggle with the question.
Boy, was I wrong. The responses came pouring out --
“Humour,” “family,” “acceptance,” “friendship,” “Everyone is needed,” “love,” "fellowship,” “Knowing people’s stories,” “intimacy,“ "community,” “history,” “familiarity,” “Everyone can fit into Bruce's rec room when the heat isn’t working at the church,” “uniqueness,” “close knit,” “You know everybody,” “You can gain confidence in a small group,” “heritage."
If we just give people the opportunity to say what makes them feel good about being part of a small church, they are all over it. People love their small churches.
I then asked folks to "Talk about a time when your church was at its very best." They shared experiences of everyone working together to achieve a common purpose, when they rallied together to help someone in need, when they responded to a crisis.
Frequently, sharing food was at the centre.
They're well aware of their challenges -- shaky finances, too few people doing too much work, trouble holding onto young people, creaky old buildings -- but that's only to say that there's no such thing as a church that doesn't have to face issues and problems.
We also talked about assets. It's so easy to focus on deficits -- what's missing, what's lacking, what's in short supply, what we used to have that we no longer have -- that we fail to see the significant assets that even the smallest church possesses --
"God, faith, caring, determination, music, expectancy, our building, organ, labyrinth, people, our baconburger stove, knowledge, wisdom, humour, resourcefulness, heritage, the Bible, space, leaders, location, seasons"
I really don't think that our problem is that we have so many small churches. All churches in the New Testament were what we would call "small." All New Testament churches were house churches, so they could only be as big as could fit into the house of the most well-to-do member -- in other words, around 40-50.
Most churches in the world are small churches, and the world-wide growth of Christianity is being driven by small, often home-based churches.
We are struggling with the fact that many small churches used to be much larger. They have declined. And, we're dealing with the expectation that a healthy church has to be a certain size, with a certain kind of building, full-time minister(s) and a busy round of programs for all ages. Our small churches are working against their own memories of what the church once was, and it's what is preventing them from re-imagining themselves and moving forward.
I know which choice I'm in favour of.
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Dietrich Bonhoeffer (February 4, 1906 – April 9, 1945)
April 9 is the 70th anniversary of the death of
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, one of the giants of Christian faith in our time.
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Dietrich Bonhoeffer |
Bonhoeffer was born into a privileged Berlin family on
February 4, 1906. He was a brilliant student, completing his Doctor of Theology
at the age of 25, and seemingly destined for a distinguished career in the
church and the university. Bonhoeffer’s true greatness, however, was in the way
he combined rigorous thought with passionate commitment. He did not regard
theology as an intellectual exercise, but a way of life that led, ultimately,
to his death.
Rather than opting for a life of academic comfort and
security, Bonhoeffer chose to oppose publicly the rise of Adolf Hitler. His
Christian convictions alerted him to the dangers of Nazi ideology. Even in
1933, this was a dangerous course. For a time he left Germany, pastoring a
German speaking congregation in London,
England, but felt called in 1935 to return to home to lead an underground
seminary which trained pastors for the Confessing Church, set up in resistance
to the Nazis. The seminary was closed by
the Gestapo in 1937.
Bonhoeffer went to America at the invitation of Reinhold
Niebuhr to teach at Union Theological Seminary in New York. Again, he felt the
pull of home and returned to Germany in June, 1938, just before the outbreak of
war.
Bonhoeffer was forbidden to speak in public or to publish,
but continued his opposition behind the scenes. On April 5, 1943, he was
arrested and spent a year and a half in prison awaiting trial. The letters and
other writings that he penned during this time were later gathered together by
his friend Eberhard Bethge and published as Letters
and Papers from Prison.
On July 20, 1944, an attempt to assassinate Hitler, led by
senior military officers, failed. Bonhoeffer was implicated in this plot. He
was moved to Flossenburg concentration camp and on April 9, 1945, he was hanged
on orders from Hitler himself.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer has often been described as a martyr. We
need to remember, though, that the real meaning of the word martyr is
“witness.” Bonhoeffer’s importance is not only in the fact that he died for his
beliefs, but that his whole life was a witness to Jesus Christ.
Bonhoeffer continues to speak to us today in many ways.
First, he reminds us of the “cost of discipleship.” He warns
us the dangers of “cheap grace,” in which God is seen as the means to satisfy
our desires without requiring anything in return. This warning is especially
relevant in today’s world of religious and spiritual consumerism. Christian
faith, for Bonhoeffer, is a call to surrender one’s entire life in service to
God and the world.
Secondly, Bonhoeffer wrestled deeply with the question “What
does it mean to follow Christ?” Every age must ask this question, but in a
world in which “the great masquerade of evil has played havoc with all our
ethical concepts,” its challenge is uniquely urgent. Bonhoeffer’s reframing of
the questions of faith and discipleship remain powerfully relevant today.
Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, Bonhoeffer was one of
the first to recognize that Christian discipleship and the habits and practices
of Christian religion are not necessarily the same thing. In prison, Bonhoeffer
pondered what it meant to be a Christian in a “world come of age,” where most
people no longer need God to fill in the gaps in human knowledge, and where the
traditional consolations of religion matter less and less. “What does it mean
to follow Christ in a non-religious world?” he asked.
In prison, Bonhoeffer experimented with the concept of a
“religionless Christianity,” distinguishing the claim of Jesus on our lives
from the received habits and worldview of a religious system. The Nazis
demonstrated how easily religion can be co-opted for ideological purposes. What
does it mean today to confess the Lordship of Jesus Christ who judges all
ideologies, including religious ideologies?
Bonhoeffer did not live long enough to work these ideas out
fully, but he anticipated what I think is the
critical question for Christians in our time: What does it mean to follow Jesus Christ when the religious structures
that have supported Christianity for 1500 years are crumbling?
Bonhoeffer was leading a group of fellow prisoners in
worship and prayer when they came for him. As the guards led him away, he said
to his friends, “This is the end, but for me it is the beginning of life.” Bonhoeffer
reminded us of the central importance of Christ’s resurrection to Christian
faith and life. Eugene Peterson has written that Christians are called “to live
a life of resurrection in a world where death gets the biggest headlines.”
Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s life, in my view, is a witness to that call.
Karl Barth wrote that Jesus Christ “forbids us to despair of
ourselves.” The great danger to Christian faith today is not atheism but despair.
We can be so overwhelmed by our circumstances that we are tempted to give up on
God. I wonder if Barth was thinking of Dietrich Bonhoeffer when he wrote those
words.
Bonhoeffer was fearlessly realistic and, at the same time, unshakeably
hopeful. At the end of 1944, just a few months before he died, he wrote a hymn
that is an encouragement to all who seek to follow Christ.
By gracious powers so wonderfully sheltered,
And confidently waiting come what may,
We know that God is with us night and morning,
And never fails to greet us each new day.
And confidently waiting come what may,
We know that God is with us night and morning,
And never fails to greet us each new day.
Yet is this heart by its old foe tormented,
Still evil days bring burdens hard to bear;
Oh, give our frightened souls the sure salvation
For which, O Lord, You taught us to prepare.
Still evil days bring burdens hard to bear;
Oh, give our frightened souls the sure salvation
For which, O Lord, You taught us to prepare.
And when this cup You give is filled to
brimming
With bitter suffering, hard to understand,
We take it thankfully and without trembling,
Out of so good and so beloved a hand.
With bitter suffering, hard to understand,
We take it thankfully and without trembling,
Out of so good and so beloved a hand.
Yet when again in this same world You give us
The joy we had, the brightness of Your Sun,
We shall remember all the days we lived through,
And our whole life shall then be Yours alone.
The joy we had, the brightness of Your Sun,
We shall remember all the days we lived through,
And our whole life shall then be Yours alone.
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