Wide versus Deep

When I was in seminary, we would often have conversations about the requirements for various ordination tracks; each of us would pull out our lists and compare. In some cases, they were similar - a Masters of Divinity, Clinical Pastoral Education (chaplaincy), a career assessment, and a proven proficiency in certain topics related to their faith, including governance and history.

But where I, a Unitarian Universalist, differed from my Presbyterian, Lutheran, Methodist, etc. friends was in what those topics were. Not surprisingly, for my friends in Christian faiths, they had to go deep into the Hebrew and Christian scriptures, which included proficiency in Biblical Greek and Biblical Hebrew, as well as Christian theologies (and yes, there’s more than one). They go - of course - all in on the Bible, going deep in these sacred tests and the doctrines that emerge from them.

And while Unitarians and Universalists are traditionally Christian sects (whose doctrines were seen as heretical - go us), our ordination track doesn’t take us deep into the Hebrew and Christian scriptures; rather, it casts a wide net into many of the world’s religions, their theologies and philosophies.

I tell you this because I keep thinking about how amazing that mile wide approach is for Unitarian Universalist faith, who values spiritual pluralism…

… and how much of a struggle it causes for congregations; not just UU but across the board.

Especially when it comes to growth.

The mile-wide approach to growth is akin to ‘let’s throw the spaghetti against the wall and see what sticks’ - and while that seems useful, what actually happens is that we create so many outreach programs and educational programs and fellowship programs that we overextend ourselves, exhaust our leaders, run out of resources, and in some cases shrink thanks to the burnout and exhaustion.

But what if we did it differently?

Now y’all know that I occasionally rail against corporatism in congregations, so it may be surprising that I’m using an example from corporate America, but there it is. I contain multitudes.

(I will also say I first ran across this example a couple of years ago, and I’m just now getting around to writing to you about it. I told you the list was long.)

In early 2023, I read an article talking about the bookseller Barnes & Noble, whose market share utterly tanked as the digital age took hold. In the face of drastically declining sales thanks largely to Amazon, and seeing their main bricks and mortar competitor Borders shut down, Barnes & Noble attempted to imitate Amazon, expand their offerings to include music, a coffee shop, and gifts, toys, and even their ebook reader, the Nook. And by 2018, the 120-year old company faced total collapse.

Instead of closing for good, they hired a new CEO, James Daunt, who had saved the UK-based bookstore Waterstones, and they followed Daunt’s lead and tried a different way – namely to go back to their roots, to what they are best at: selling books. They stopped all the food and electronics, the gifts and the games, and they even stopped kowtowing to market forces that led to terrible decisions based on promotional money from publishers to push books that are, by and large, not the best.

As Ted Gioia writes on his Substack The Honest Broker, when Barnes & Noble put their passion for good writing front and center, and allowed the staff to follow and affirm that passion, that vision, the company began again to thrive. They put books and readers first, and everything else second.

We know how hard it is to do everything; I think about the valid criticism the film Barbie got for all the things the movie didn’t do, or didn’t cover – like body image, or racism, or consumerism, or... or…. But here’s the thing: except for The Princess Bride, there is no perfect movie. And to expect one movie to contain all the things is to dilute the messages it’s trying to offer.

That unrealistic expectation to do all the things happens to businesses, to films, and to congregations.

So…What happens when we stop trying to be all things to all people?

What happens when we stop trying to appeal to everyone and appeal to those who are most likely to align with and need our particular ministry?

What happens when we focus on what we do best?

What happens when we meet the people in our neighborhood where they are?

And what happens when we give ourselves the grace to not fill the spaces where our anger, fear, and frustration with too many projects and programs?

Honestly… we could do with fewer half-assed, barely attended programs and focus our energies on those most needed to meet the needs of those who need us most and what this moment calls for.

It’s time to go a mile deep.