Recently, I read an article “Small ≠ Broken: 5 Steps to Greatness In a Small Church“. It emphasised the value of small communities and (what I stress repeatedly) don’t try and clone/mimic one style (in this case the mega-church model) in another context (in this case your local parish church).
The Anglican model has traditionally been local people worshipping locally in buildings that hold, say, 100-150 people. And occasional massive worship events in enormous cathedrals.
In the spirit of Throwback Thursday I reblog many of the ideas I presented in small church – is beautiful.
The church building, I’ll call it St Alban’s for convenience, could probably hold 130, maybe 150 people. The community who built it probably never anticipated more than a couple of hundred attending on a Sunday – with a couple of morning services and an evening service. Next door they built a vicarage. St Alban has an entrance foyer and a large hall where you can play basketball or do any number of other activities. There are a couple of smaller meeting rooms – easily usable for Sunday School. There is an area where refreshments can be prepared and placed. Then a couple of small offices – one intended for the vicar/parish priest.
In an age of bigger-is-better, mega-churches, even internet churches, St Alban and its architecture speaks of a different approach. It speaks of a local community worshipping and serving where they live. A vision of young families who generally send their children to the local kindergarten, primary school, and secondary school. The church encourages neighbourly care. I recently read of three very successful businesses where the people worked near where they live.
Yes, there will be some travelling to supermarket, even shopping mall, and cinema. Many will travel out of the suburb to work.
I regularly read about and encounter the enormous energy directed towards creating “Christian communities” of like-minded, same-age congregations. Imagine our multi-faceted society as a gateaux or layer cake. These people want to slice the gateaux, the layer cake of society, horizontally – so that you look around the congregation at slightly-varying clones of yourself – people who think the same, believe the same, dress similarly, like similar music, are a similar age, income-group, culture etc. There is no stress or challenge. And maybe little transformation?
The vision that the architecture of St Alban speaks of to me is quite different. It slices the gateaux, the layer cake, vertically. Sure, not every possibility will be included in the slice – the community just isn’t big enough. But there is a variety of ages and stages, opinions and positions – rubbing shoulders, rubbing the sharp edges off, being the grit that produces the pearl.
There may be a warning in the cake-slicing metaphor. If you attempt to slice a gateaux horizontally, normally you will be very unsuccessful, ending up merely with a lot crumbs and sticky cream.
St Alban’s doesn’t just meet for worship and mutual support. The small number that meet there (relative to the population of the suburb in which it sits) serve and care in the local community. The hall is used for young people to be active together. There are visits to the local retirement homes. The vicar/parish priest is not just there to care for the worshipping community, but is understood by that community to be available for anyone in the suburb. The vicar is a general practitioner, helping people find the resources they need. The vicar is in touch with what is happening in the worshipping community and the wider local community, presiding at the eucharist and other worship as pastor of the community, preaching sermons that connect the timeless message to the actual, known, lived experiences and issues of those in the pews.
Some people want to slice the gateaux, the layer cake of society, horizontally – so that you look around the congregation at slightly-varying clones of yourself – people who think the same, believe the same, dress similarly, like similar music, are a similar age, income-group, culture etc. There may be a warning in the cake-slicing metaphor. If you attempt to slice a gateaux horizontally, normally you will be very unsuccessful, ending up merely with a lot crumbs and sticky cream.
Some groups proudly boast that ten tithing average-income families can support one average-income pastor’s family. Anglicans have never generally got such a ratio, however I posit that a community with an average weekly attendance of a hundred or more can generally support a parish with a vicar.
This post is not even beginning to explore the possible imperative to alter our lifestyle to a more local expression for the sake of the planet and our future. This post is not a denigration of larger churches, nor of the church’s use of the internet. Far from it (clearly) for the latter – it is not a romanticised yearning for a bygone, pre-internet age. The internet complements such a real-world small community. This is an attempt to look again at the too-regularly forgotten value of small, local Christian communities where the pastor IS pastor to the faith community, leads, teaches, and preaches to their actual context. And the Christian community not only worships God in and prays for the local community, and really supports each other, it also serves the local community (and beyond) in a multiplicity of ways. They act locally and truly are Christ locally.
If you appreciated this post, do remember to like the liturgy facebook page, use the RSS feed, and sign up for a not-very-often email, …
There is really good stuff in the small/local/active and engaged church.
Too many churches however use their size as something to hide behind and disengage “we’re too small to….” whatever it might be. Getting from the latter to the former is a major problem
Thanks, Ali. Yes, many are seeing church through “big is beautiful” lenses. The model used to be that once the community became much over say 100-150, it would plant a daughter church. Numerical growth (evangelism) need not be about creating bigger and bigger communities. Blessings.
Nice – you called the parish in your essay St Alban’s. Thanks, Bosco.
I agree with a lot of this in theory – but are there many ‘communities’ in our big cities. At least in Auckland where I live there is very little sign of community in many areas. People attach to interests outside their own suburb; their friends are scattered around town; there may be very few community organisations in some parishes. I’ve experienced what you describe in a rural town, but it can be hard going in the suburbs
Yes, Rhys. I think you are making an important point. Some suburbs still function like traditional villages; others not so. Blessings.
It sometimes takes conscious choice in a city to make those community connections. I choose to make the effort to shop locally, send my children to the mist local school, attend the local library and local church. I might be able to get cheaper bread and milk from the supermarket in the next suburb, but over the last 17 years we’ve lived here I’ve got to know quite well the owners of the local diary, the librarians at the lical library and the teachers and other parents at school.
I’ve found, though, that not many of the congregation of our church lives in this local area. Some travel from the other side of town to attend. In most other ways it’s similar to the church you describe: 100-150 on a Sunday, multi-generational with a diversity of tastes any interests. Just not so much geographically connected.
Something I’ll ponder.
That’s fascinating, Claudia. So what is it, when you’ve pondered, that draws people to your particular (not significantly large) church community? As you indicate it is not taste, interest, age, or location. Blessings.