We Should Want to Go
For various reasons too personal and numerous to mention, I have been thinking a lot about my first few years attending my home congregation in Saratoga Springs NY. In 2004, I made a conscious choice to start going to church, because I was seeking community and healing. But I kept going back, and even getting excited about Sunday morning. I got more involved, there was of course more to do, and so there was some sense of obligation. But many Sundays in those early years, I went because I wanted to.
I know some of the reasons: it was a great place to go was that they welcomed me warmly, and there was a sense of love and connection amongst them that extended to me. Some of it was the ways in which I was invited to be involved. Not surprisingly, I sang in and even led the volunteer choir. But I also heard messages of hope, I witnessed moments of joy, and I felt grounding both in the Sunday morning messages and activities throughout the week.
And I wonder about our congregations today, congregations that are struggling to help us meet this awful moment in our country's history. Congregations that are confronting breaches in covenant and basic human dignity both inside and outside our walls. And yes, we absolutely have to get it right inside our walls if we have any hope a making change outside our walls.
But people don't just come to us because they are in alignment with our values and social action. Or at least that's not why they stay.
If all someone is looking for is an organization that aligns with their values and that they can join forces with in the fight for justice, there are hundreds of them out there. But if someone is looking for more, we have to offer more. People will often come in because of who we are in the world, but if something else isn't feeding them, they won't stay.
In other words, we have to be the bearers of love and care and joy. We have to become places that people want to spend their time, want to get up on a Sunday morning for, want to devote time and talent to. We have to become places are people believe feeling a little lighter, a little happier, a little more grounded.
How do we do that?
First, we stop telling people what's wrong in the world; I promise you that they know. We are rarely the news, or even aggregators.
Second, we use worship to offer spiritual deepening; it’s amazing how many people want to learn more about our faith, explore their own theology, and strengthen their spiritual core.
Third, we don’t make every single announcement or communication or event be about doing the work of the congregation – and for Pete’s sake, we stop begging for volunteers. The moment we stop doing fellowship events (potlucks, movie nights, book groups, outings, dance parties, gaming, arts and crafts, etc.), we stop being a place folks want to go. I am NOT saying we don't still do the hard work of the congregation and of meeting this moment. I'm saying that can't be all we do if we hope to keep people fed emotionally and spiritually.
In other words, infuse everything with joy. Not silly happiness, but the joy that comes from deep within each of us, the joy of connecting with others to sing and laugh and rest and connect, the joy of a faith that tells us Love is most important – in all the ways it manifests and in which we manifest it.
What if – in this counter-cultural thing we do on Sundays – we were a hub of joy? How might we change and be changed?
