One of Martin Luther’s biggest legacies is biblical accessibility. In the 1500s, printing the Bible in the vernacular opened up a radical new possibility: relationship with God on a personal basis, not one mediated by the clergy.
Today, of course, it’s a given that our Bibles will be in English. But many Protestant churches have continued to open the Bible to believers through Bible studies and book groups exploring theology and Biblical scholarship.
That way, congregants can experience God through the Bible on their own.
In my research for this article on liturgical education, then, I found it rather surprising that we don’t cultivate that same openness with our liturgy. Given the Protestant emphasis on accessibility, I thought I would find at least a few resources to educate children and/or adults on Protestant liturgy.
I came up pretty empty-handed. The one lesson plan I did find in progressive Protestant circles was from the Presbyterian tradition. It’s in the form of a three-day retreat for newly elected elders and Session members—not something the average layperson can experience.
Rather ironically, on the other hand, Catholic resources abounded. My searches there turned up a parade of results for both children and adults to sink deeply into the liturgy, understanding each and every part on an intellectual and sensory level. Moreover, there was a deep appreciation for the importance of liturgical education in the average person’s faith.
Protestants, on the other hand, apparently haven’t given as much thought to the subject. Liturgical education is mostly left, instead, to clergy with seminary degrees. This leaves the average believer without the formation necessary to get the most out of the liturgy.
This pattern is the very opposite of our distinctive Protestant emphasis on direct connection and accessibility between God and humanity. So, this week, we’re talking about liturgical education, both for kids and adults.
Liturgical Education for Kids
Liturgical education becomes especially important as children grow old enough to transition into part or all of the service. If they don’t understand what’s going on and why, they’ll probably be bored. That will make the liturgy harder for them to sit through (and hard for their parents).
On the other hand, a solid foundation in the liturgy means they will come into worship equipped to understand the sacred-ness of that time in the sanctuary. Hopefully, they will gain an understanding of both the things that the pastor is doing and things that the congregation does in response—and how these pieces work together to worship God and teach us how to follow the Spirit.
If they can connect with these elements from an early age, they will have a head start in developing a personal relationship with God through the liturgy.
Providing this liturgical education in a Sunday School setting allows them to slow down and experience each part of the service individually, at their pace and in language and images they can understand. They can explore the liturgy through all their senses, as well as intellectually.
This Catholic curriculum, for example, expands upon the Liturgy of the Word. It focuses heavily on re-creating worship in an environment where kids can go through it more slowly or take time to reflect on individual pieces.
Of course, kids copy their parents. If the adults in the congregation aren’t engaged in the liturgy, their kids probably won’t be, either. Which brings us to our next topic.
Liturgical Education for Adults
In liturgical education classes for adults, you’ll probably be speaking to a committed group of members who are familiar with the basics of the liturgy. This is both easier and harder than discussing liturgy with children.
On the one hand, adults already know all of the different parts. They’ve probably experienced God at one point or another in the liturgy, and they may even have favorite parts where they reliably feel a sense of connection. All of these provide easy talking points that can jump-start a conversation on any given part of the liturgy.
However, a lifetime of experience with the liturgy also means adults come to the table with assumptions from previous experiences, either at their current congregation or at previous ones. In my article on sermon series, I talked about some ideas for addressing these previous experiences.
Here’s a quick summary:
Look at the most difficult, boring, and controversial parts of the service, the ones that are most often a stumbling block (eg. creeds, confession, “body and blood” language).
Explain and/or redeem potentially hurtful parts of the liturgy (eg. exclusion from the Eucharist).
Since they’re adults, they’ll be able to share what parts of the service are most difficult for them, which parts are most boring, and which parts come with a painful history. Hopefully, this will eliminate the need for guessing and allow you to immediately identify which parts of the liturgy to discuss.
Unlike in a pulpit, religious education allows you to introduce pictures, video curriculum, and other props. These cards by Kyle Oliver lay out each step of the Episcopal liturgy with beautiful pictures, incorporating both quotes from the liturgy and explanations of each part’s function. Even if you’re not Episcopalian, you can take this idea and re-do it with your own liturgy in mind.
Props like these can facilitate discussion and draw in your less verbally-oriented students.
In the end, Protestant accessibility to God must include the liturgy, not only the Bible. Access to God through liturgical education and understanding can’t be limited to the clergy and a few lay leaders.
This kind of education leaves more breathing room in weekly worship, too. If your congregation comes prepared to find God in the rhythm of the liturgy, it won’t matter so much if your sermon is lackluster, if the choir is off-key, or the technology fails.
Rather than being reliant on the pastor each week to show the way to Christ, congregants will be able to find God for themselves, too.
Welcome back to Week 2 of the Liturgy series! Last week’s installment focused on worship leaders reconnecting with the liturgy. This week, we’ll talk about taking those insights to your congregation in the form of a sermon series.
If you’re not someone who gets to write a sermon every week, this article might not be directly applicable for you (hopefully you’ll still get something out of it). But even if not, come back next week—we’ll be talking about reconnecting with the liturgy through religious education, something usually led by laypeople.
Why preach a liturgical sermon series?
If you’re a mainline pastor, chances are, you use the lectionary. Maybe you use it exclusively.
Most of the time, from a personal standpoint, that’s what I prefer. I love it when sermons are rooted in Scripture.
That being said, I’m going to make the case for setting aside my beloved lectionary for a few weeks in favor of a sermon series on the liturgy. Here’s why.
A sermon is the only time during the week that you have the attention of your entire congregation. Talking about the liturgy during optional events will only reach a core, committed group. While that group will certainly benefit from an insightful new look into the liturgy, they’re a limited number—and not necessarily the people who need the most extra help connecting with God.
Not only will a sermon reach the entire regular membership, it will reach visitors, as well.
During college, I used to bring my friends to church, often for special occasions. My congregation did liturgy well. On special Sundays, we had bagpipes, banners, and celebratory hymns.
Experiencing and understanding the regular liturgy set our congregation up for true celebration on special Sundays. But when I brought my friends to these liturgical feasts, they’d often come away with disappointingly “meh” reviews.
At first, I was miffed. But then, I realized I couldn’t blame them. They didn’t understand the significance of liturgy on ordinary Sundays or extraordinary ones. Singing “Alleluia” instead of “Kyrie eleison” meant nothing to them.
In the end, it didn’t really feel like a celebration for them—at least, not to the degree it was for the rest of us. The whole liturgical beauty was (mostly) lost on them.
These are the kinds of visitors who would really benefit from happening to drop by on a Sunday during a liturgical sermon series. Your sermon can help them connect with an otherwise obscure or opaque part of the liturgy, ushering them into an experience of God that they wouldn’t have known how to have.
In other words, preaching about the liturgy in a sermon can break down stumbling blocks for visitors and more loosely affiliated members.
What does a liturgical sermon series look like?
So what would a sermon series look like? If you read the article last week you’ll remember that I asked you to break down your liturgy into parts, assigning a chief aim to each one.
Is the main purpose of the Liturgy of the Word to convince the congregation of Biblical truths? To encourage them to change behaviors that are ungodly? Or is it something else?
There are probably multiple aims for each part of the service, but try to find one main one that the others are supporting. This aim can become the thesis of each sermon.
Your sermon series can easily take the form of one section of worship per week. Or, you could preach on themes or emotional arcs through the service—moving from lamentation to joy, for instance. Maybe you want to preach a sermon on redeeming parts of the service that can seem judgemental.
Maybe you’re from an evangelical-style church, with only two or three parts to the service and no standard words week-to-week. You’ve still got liturgy to preach on! Liturgy includes formulated prayers, sure. But it also includes the flow, the emotional and theological arc of the service from one section to the next.
As you’re writing the sermons themselves, think back to the most frustrating conversations you’ve had as a pastor or person of faith. What are some of the most annoying, eye-opening responses you’ve gotten to your collar, stole, or cross?
When you go to a party and tell someone secular what you do, what do they tell you to explain their lack of religiosity? “I don’t go to church because they do ________.” Maybe it has to do with eating the Body and Blood of a human being. Or perhaps the Confession feels like it heaps too much shame on them.
Think about each section of the liturgy through the eyes of someone who’s never been to church before. Someone who’s never heard of the doctrines in the Nicene Creed or about Jesus’ body and blood.
Hone in on those most difficult or controversial parts of the service. The most misinterpreted parts of the liturgy. The ones most likely to create a stumbling block, most likely to keep someone from feeling like they’re welcome or included.
For instance, if you recite a Creed, I think that’s a part of the service people often have questions about. If you do confession, same thing. Along with, of course, the main building blocks like Communion or the sermon.
How did the Church Fathers and Mothers (or Reformation leaders) envision this part of the service connecting us with God? Why do we continue to do them all these centuries later? How is it still valuable to us, with our spiritual needs in this time and place?
For those congregants who can’t really connect with ancient figures, perhaps you can create a personal access point to the liturgy through the eyes of a relatable contemporary: you. How do you connect to God during that part of the service? What made you say “yes” to this liturgy when you last thought it through?
Finally, think about each section of the liturgy through the eyes of someone who’s been wounded at their previous church because of the theology around that part of the service. When I traveled to South Bend and Denver, interviewing congregants about their spiritual lives, I learned about many harmful or downright traumatic theologies around different parts of the liturgy.
In some cases, my interviewees were still recovering from them decades later. I’d had no idea these theologies existed—and thus, that those parts of of the liturgy needed redemption.
So, redeem the liturgy for them. Acknowledge the ways that this part of the service can be confusing, boring, or hurtful. Breathe new life into difficult or traumatic experiences.
What’s the effect of a liturgical sermon series?
After the sermon, I encourage you to take note of the result. What was it like to recite the Nicene Creed after you’d reinvigorated it and redeemed it for your congregation? What was it like to give the absolution to a congregation that truly understood the significance of having their sins forgiven?
God continues to imbue fresh meaning in the ancient practices of the Church. Sometimes, though, it can take a little nudge for the average attendee or visitor to see what God’s doing there. In the coming months, I encourage you to be that nudge for your church, to expose God’s work in the liturgy visibly and fruitfully for your congregation.
Stay tuned for next week’s installment on reinvigorating the liturgy through religious education!
Happy Epiphany, everyone! I hope you had a blessed Christmas and a well-deserved break (for those of you who work in a church).
During the remaining weeks before Lent, we’ll be honing in on one key topic: reinvigorating your liturgy for your congregation.
Growing up, I adored church. We attended more or less every Sunday. And, unlike most kids, I grew up sitting through the whole service–and I liked it.
But when I turned ten or eleven, I began to complain to my mom. Church was getting boring. After a decade of Sundays, I’d memorized the liturgy by heart. How was I supposed to connect with God when I was bored to tears?
I suspect most of you can relate to this feeling on some level, at some church you’ve attended. Maybe you, too, got tired of the repetition. Or maybe you didn’t connect with the liturgy because you didn’t like the theology.
For almost all of us, at some point or another, the liturgy has failed to inspire prayer, praise, learning, or relationship with God.
When this occurs, it’s a key turning point. Ideally, this is when the pastor would help you into a new understanding, leading the way to an insight or spiritual experience and reinvigorating your liturgy for you.
Often, though, clergy don’t step into that role. So people just check out. Or declare church “irrelevant” and leave.
If you’re the pastor, you’ve had the opportunity to think through liturgy pretty carefully in seminary training. But what about your congregation?
Do they understand why you say the things you do? Do they know why your denomination or your leadership team elected to have this structure and theology in the first place?
In other words, when boredom or confusion strikes, do they have the resources they need to reconnect with your liturgy?
After all, you wouldn’t preach the exact same sermon on a familiar Bible story every time it comes around in the lectionary. After the first few times, the text and sermon would get boring. People would check out.
Instead, you preach a different sermon every year. You give a fresh perspective on it, a new window into how the Spirit might be speaking to you and your congregation. And, rather than getting bored or leaving, your congregation accesses God in a new way.
The same principle applies to the liturgy. Except that the liturgy repeats every week, not once in a lectionary cycle.
So, for the next few weeks, we’ll be exploring several different, concrete ways you can be reinvigorating your liturgy with meaning. Most of these methods will involve interaction with your congregation, helping them understand why you choose the liturgy you did.
But today, we’re going to focus on the basics—helping you, the pastor or lay worship leader, get reconnected with the liturgy. After all, it will be hard to enliven the liturgy for your church if it’s not fully alive for you.
I’ll start by posing a question—Why is your liturgy the way it is? Why do you use those prayers? Why do you have that number of Scripture readings and pieces of music, in that order? Why do your prayers and creeds espouse that theology and not something else?
Maybe your answer is, “Because I recently thought through this liturgy and discerned that it is God’s will for my congregation.” If so, good for you!
But perhaps your answer is, “Because that’s how it was when I came here.” Or, “Because that’s what we decided ten years ago, and we haven’t reevaluated.”
If so, that’s okay! But if your congregation is going to understand and get behind your liturgy, you need to understand and get behind it, first.
So, if you haven’t had the chance to evaluate your liturgy in some time, here are some strategies for reinvigorating your liturgy for yourself.
Reinvigorating your liturgy with purpose
First of all, what is the point of your liturgy? What is the principal aim of each section in your service?
The answer, of course, will differ denomination to denomination and church to church. For instance, your Liturgy of the Word may focus on convincing the congregation of Biblical truths. Alternatively, the goal may be to challenge their understanding of how God is working in their lives.
Communion, on the other hand, may focus on a direct connection with Jesus’ physical presence. Or, it could be about remembering Jesus’ life and reflection on how we can be better followers of him.
Once you’ve assigned an aim to each part of your service, think about what it all adds up to. What’s the main aim of the service? Is it to facilitate a stronger relationship with God? To build religious/Biblical knowledge? To reinforce belief in specific things?
Most importantly of all: does your current liturgy meet this aim?
Reinvigorating your liturgy with theology and flow
Here’s another angle to consider: try breaking down your liturgy by theology and flow.
Is the theology in your liturgy congruent with that of your denomination? What about your personal beliefs? How about the beliefs in your congregation?
For instance, many mainline Protestants no longer subscribe to substitutionary atonement as their theology of the crucifixion. But most Eucharistic prayers still have substitutionary references. That merits further evaluation.
Additionally, how is the liturgical flow? Does the order make sense, building elements together in a way that facilitates the main point of your service?
What about the length and complexity of certain sections? If you want to attract families, but you’re using a long and dense Eucharistic prayer, squirmy kids will be less inclined to pay attention and parents will have to focus on their children, not the liturgy.
Maybe your denomination has stricter guidelines about the liturgy (Episcopalians, I’m looking at you). Perhaps you can take this chance to reevaluate the options you do have.
Pull out your Book of Common Prayer and Enriching Our Worship, or their denominational equivalents. Read all the prayers. Take a look at alternative Creed options that are available. Think about the pros and cons of two Scripture readings versus three.
If you want to keep what you have, fine. But in order to get your congregation on board, make sure you’ve got strong reasoning and discernment behind your choices. Not just, “That’s how it’s always been done.”
Reinvigorating your liturgy with new perspectives
Finally, try checking in with your congregation. Perhaps others with liturgical or theological training can offer a differing perspective that will hone your own.
And, don’t forget to see what the non-experts have to say—even the youth or children. What is the most meaningful to them? When do they tune out? They could help you see the service through a whole different set of eyes.
Whether you end up making changes or not, reexamining your liturgy afresh will set you up to reinvigorate the liturgy for your congregation. This is the crucial foundation for helping your congregation connect to the liturgy in the coming weeks.
If you’re not connected to the liturgy and inspired by it, they won’t be, either.
A few years ago, I sat down with a pastor in the middle of a job hunt. I asked her how it was going.
She shook her head.
“All of these churches say they want to grow. But I know that, when it comes down to it, they don’t actually want to change.”
She was talking from experience. She’d served in congregations that had claimed they wanted change. But she’d found that the reality was different.
If you’re pastoring a declining church, chances are, it’s a story you’re familiar with. Why is this happening? Why is there such a disparity between what congregations say they want, and what they really want?
It’s because there’s emotional work behind church reform.
People see the unused Sunday School buildings. They read the dwindling finance reports. They note the decreasing baptisms and confirmations.
They know these trends aren’t sustainable. They know it can’t go on forever.
So they ask for a pastor who will change things up. They know they need one. But they’re not really ready.
Why? Because there’s emotional work behind church reform that’s rarely discussed or acknowledged.
There are plenty of resources on how to modernize your liturgy or programming. But it’s very hard to find blogs or books on the emotional work behind church reform. One exception is Diana Butler Bass’s The Practicing Congregation, which first alerted me to the issue.
But very few other religious thinkers are examining the emotional work behind church reform that must be done before we can actually embark on the complex journey.
People could, more or less, assume that their friends and neighbors believed similar things. They could count on their children and grandchildren sharing the same religious heritage.
In other words, mainline Protestantism held an elevated, shared place in society. No longer.
In the last few decades, the Church has become relatively de-centralized from society. It’s been removed from the center of social life. It no longer unites families and the country in the way it once did.
And for people who grew up in a time when the Church was central, this new world can be difficult to get used to. It can be heartbreaking to not share the same religious convictions as your grandchildren. It can be unfathomable to imagine generations of children raised without religious education.
I spent four years attending a church mostly made up of Boomers and the Silent Generation. People never stopped asking me why there weren’t more young people in the pews. They always wanted to discuss how my friends could be more attracted to worship.
But underneath the practical, intellectual questions, I sensed deep grief and fear.
Grief that their church wasn’t as vibrant as it once was. Fear that generations of cultural and religious heritage could be lost.
Maybe those aren’t just the emotions of your congregation. Maybe those are your feelings, too. Church decline can lay the heaviest burden on religious leaders.
If that’s the case, the three considerations below are worth your attention to support the emotional work behind church reform. If you experience fear and grief when you think about church decline, use these resources for yourself first. Then, your congregation will benefit from your insight.
Empathy First
If you read Reformation 4.0, you’re probably focused on the future of the Church. Where is the Holy Spirit calling us next?
But elders in your congregation might need to reminisce about the past before they are ready to move forward. So when I meet an elder who wants to talk about church reform, I first ask them about the church of their youth.
I ask them what they loved—what made it vital and alive for them? What made them fall in love with church in the first place?
What was it about this place that made them so loyal to their denomination or congregation, so loyal to the institution?
Chances are, they will mention the community or the spiritual vivacity. This is a way to transition from reminiscing about the past to envisioning the future. If they enjoyed these things so much, might they be interested in creating rich community or spiritual vivacity for young adults nowadays, too?
Their needs matter, too.
Around the time that I first began thinking about church reform, I spent every Sunday with my grandma. I’d come back from church all aflutter about my ideas to make mainline Protestantism more welcoming to Millennials.
One Sunday, my grandma chimed in. “What about us?” she asked. “If you’re so focused on meeting Millennials’ needs, where do we fit in?”
I felt horrible. Of course, her spiritual needs mattered just as much as mine. So I began to ask her and others what they needed from their church communities.
Asking about the spiritual needs of elders reinforces their importance in the congregation. It helps them know that church reform does not mean shutting them out to bring in younger generations. And, it can provide you with clear points of reference as you revision what your congregation will look like.
The emotional work behind church reform
When they’ve reminisced and expressed their needs to you, you can start talking about the emotions this new religious landscape brings. There’s likely some grief that the traditions of the past can’t be taken for granted. Perhaps there’s fear about losing a generational religious identity.
You likely have your own theology and pastoral skills that can handle these emotions. Whatever your style, set up ways for them to express and process their emotions about detraditionalization and church decline.
One thought that has been comforting to me in my own emotional work around church reform: the Holy Spirit is at work now as She has been throughout church history. We are not alone in our reform, and we never have been.
Looking for a quick fix that’ll bring more Millennials into your church? Technology might seem like the best answer. It seems like everyone, not just young adults, is glued to their smartphones nowadays.
The problem is, technology in church can become a trap. If you google it, you’ll find blogs like this one, which lists a number of ways your congregation can become more tech-savvy.
This article lists many potentially good ideas for certain churches. But it suggests that these strategies can or should be applied indiscriminately. Most churches use technology like that, implementing the most popular technological trends as a way to conform to postmodern culture.
And when they do, that technology can become a liability, not a boon.
As a pastor, you’re working hard to meet the spiritual needs of the community you serve—to facilitate connection with God during worship, or to connect people to one another in fellowship, for example.
Used properly, technology in church should be just one tool in your toolkit to achieve those ends. It’s certainly not a tool you should ignore. But ultimately, it’s a means, not an end.
So here are three basic rules for seamlessly integrating technology into your worship service—while avoiding the pitfalls that can hinder connection with God and others.
Rule 1: Let technology in church serve you, not the other way around.
Whatever technology you use, it needs to be concretely meeting the spiritual needs of you and your congregation. In worship, this will probably mean facilitating focus on the service. For instance, if people in your congregation are distracted by bulletins, you may want to use screens instead.
Or perhaps, you may want to use technology in church to directly facilitate a connection with the Holy Spirit. Dimmed lights or electronic music are common examples.
But it’s important to think carefully before installing anything, because there’s a key difference between conforming to the culture and creatively responding to the culture’s spiritual needs. Obviously, we’re aiming for the latter.
Conforming to tech culture means creating glitchy or distracting technological experiences for the sake of technology itself. Ultimately, this approach draws attention away from the sermon, Eucharist, or overall connection with the Holy Spirit.
To use technology in church to meet the spiritual needs of your community, you need to get a sense of your goals. Not just goals for worship in general but for your worship, specifically.
What’s the reason you’re here every Sunday? Why do people come to your church instead of the one across town? A small, contemplative church will have very different answers to those questions than a megachurch, and for good reason.
Once you have your answers in mind, you can ask how technology will further that specific identity and your unique worship goals.
For instance, perhaps you are expanding pastoral care to the sick and homebound. Live-streaming your services could help you do that. Or, maybe you want people to be focusing on the altar rather than leafing through bulletins during Eucharist. Screens could help keep people’s attention at the front instead of down at the floor.
There’s an important caveat: they assume that every church should be pursuing all of their technological ideas. As I said above, I don’t think that’s a thoughtful approach. But you can use the articles to get some ideas about what your specific goals are and then think about how technology can serve you.
Once you have thought through the purpose of technology in your church, you’re ready to think about the specific form it will take in the service.
Rule 2: Simplify
Simplification is a key difference between technology in the secular world and technology in church.
Technology in the secular world is created to make us more efficient. To help us do more things, faster. It usually ends up cluttering our brains and our calendars to the max. Which often draws us away from God.
If you put up technology in church as a way of conforming to society, you might continuing that trend. You could put up screens with announcements that advertise church events before and after worship. Or maybe you could create images to go along with each part of your sermon so that no one gets bored.
Most of the time, these uses of technology in church will just continue damaging cultural trends.
Instead, make your technology simple. Minimize visual and audial busy-ness.
If you’re using slides during your sermon to emphasize a point, only use a few words or images at once. Make sure they don’t distract attention from your sermon, but rather draw attention back to your words. Create lots of white space on the slide. Rotate through slides very slowly.
If you’re projecting music, try not to cram a whole hymn onto the screen. Instead, you could consider putting up only the words to a familiar tune. Before and after the service, don’t put up announcements—instead, leave the screen blank or put up a calming image to help people settle in to worship.
And size is important too. Too big, and it will distract people from what you’re doing up front. Too small, and people will be squinting. Make it the Goldlilocks size for your sanctuary space.
And, most importantly, remember that technology in church is serving the purpose of worship, not the other way around.
Rule 3: Be good at it.
You know that sound of nails on a chalkboard? That’s how it feels to this Millennial, at least, when technology in church goes awry.
Recently, I sat through a service that involved a slideshow, with pictures accompanied by music. The idea of the slideshow was wonderful—it served the purposes of worship that day. And the effort was there, put in by the pastor and other dedicated lay volunteers.
But ultimately, the technology was glitchy and the presenters didn’t know how to create a high-quality presentation. In the end, the execution undercut the wonderful idea and effort that had been put in.
The slideshow kept reverting to the home screen of the PC. People kept having to jump up and adjust the audio, which fluctuated between too loud and too quiet. The music did not taper off at the end of the slideshow, but cut off abruptly in the middle, ruining the atmosphere.
I had to deep-breathe my way through the service.
The advancements in technology mean that newcomers to your church will expect smooth, professional quality. When the equipment is glitchy and old or the presenter is technologically inexperienced, the intention backfires.
Rather than focusing on worship, people are cringing
As you’re creating a tech presentation, use two basic rules of thumb, one for standard weekly performances and one for important services.
For weekly services, as you prepare any kind of technological presentation, ask yourself: if you were in an office and using this technology in an important presentation to your boss, would you be happy with the quality?
Before important services or if you’re rolling out a whole new kind of technology in your service, it’s time to kick it up a notch. Find someone in their twenties, preferably a professional, and have them sit through the presentation. If they’re cringing, it needs work.
Maybe you can’t afford technology that runs well. Or maybe you don’t have anyone in your church who can use it at a semi-professional (or at least Millennial) standard. That’s okay.
If that’s the case, you’re better off not using technology at all. If it’s impossible to create a technological experience that passes the rules of thumb above, then the consequences outweigh the benefits. It’s better to have a technology-free, smooth worship service than one full of technological glitches.
Once you create a presentation that lives up to the standards above, it’s imperative that you practice multiple times. This is especially important if you’re unfamiliar with any aspect of the tech usage that day. This way, you can work out the glitches and decide if it lives up to your quality standards.
In the end, technology in church can be like any other worship aide—it can help or hinder connection with God and the Body of Christ, depending on its design. Technology may have taken over everywhere else, but it shouldn’t get a free pass in your sanctuary. Rather, it needs to meet your needs, and those of the people you serve.
Have you recently used technology in your church? Comment below and tell me how it worked out—and if you’re doing anything differently next time!
A few Christmases ago, the pastor stepped up to the pulpit to begin her sermon. Everyone rustled their bulletins. The pews creaked.
And then everything got quiet. The pastor looked at us. She took a deep breath. And then she didn’t say anything.
For an uncomfortably long time.
Finally, she began to speak. “I always get nervous when I preach a Christmas Eve sermon,” she said. “There are so many people here. Many of you are here for the holiday. This is my one chance a year to talk to you.”
As your church prepares for Christmas, you also may be wondering how to reach the influx of annual attendees. Why don’t they come every Sunday? What drives them away? And how do you create a welcoming environment that entices them to stay?
As you ponder these questions, I invite you to turn to one group in particular. They’re underserved and sorely lacking in pastoral attention. And one offhand comment could make or break their church attendance for years to come.
These are the people who have suffered religious abuse or trauma.
What is Religious Trauma?
Religious trauma is increasingly recognized in psychological circles. Experts now understand that religious abuse can create severe mental health problems, such as depression and anxiety. Some forms require professional help to overcome.
People suffer from religious abuse in a variety of ways. Some people are kicked out because of their sexual orientation. Others are deemed inferior and sinful because of their gender.
As children, some deal with parental abuse because of their church’s position on corporal punishment. Far too many have suffered physical or sexual abuse by pastors. And when others turn to church leadership to help with domestic violence, they are ignored.
Some survivors of religious abuse deal with none of those things. Rather, they are told over and over again that they are inherently sinful and evil and that God is angry with them.
Religious trauma can result from indirect contact with Christianity, too. When I moved into the dorms my freshman year of college, few of my peers had experienced religious abuse directly. But most of them still mistrusted me, some of them for years, because of my religiosity.
Thanks to social media and the news, angry Christians had reached my peers, even though they grew up outside religious communities. They had watched their religious friends suffer. They had heard Christians attacking their identity online. And it had created grief, anger, and fear.
And so, even without direct religious abuse, they didn’t trust Christians or religious spaces. No matter how progressive they claimed to be.
Religious Trauma in Mainline Protestantism
In the mainline Protestant churches I grew up in, we rarely discussed this issue. Why? We underestimated the magnitude of the problem and the complexity of the healing process.
We assumed that people who suffered from religious trauma would already know about our church as a safe space. We assumed that our friendliness would make them willing to give Christianity another shot. And we assumed that attendance in our inclusive churches would automatically heal their trauma after a short period of time.
But that’s often not the case. Even if people know about your church as a safe space, elements of the worship can still trigger pain from past abuse. Ultimately, you probably share much of the same language, symbols, and Scripture with the church where they experienced abuse.
And, even if they do overcome these hurdles and start attending your church, healing is not fast or automatic.
In a New York Times article, religious trauma expert Marlene Winell explains, “Even after people leave religions where they have suffered abuse, they can still harbor the emotional conviction that they are ‘basically sinful and wrong.’”
Welcoming policies aren’t enough here. Even one sentence can trigger memories of past religious trauma for someone.
Many of my friends with religious trauma courageously tried a more inclusive church. But many were triggered by a pastor’s offhand comment about sin or by the request for donations before the offering.
Even if your statement is well-intentioned, you might accidentally place yourself in the same category as a previous pastor they have met. And if you do, they may not give the church a second chance.
So how to provide compassionate pastoral care this Christmas? Here are five tips for creating a welcoming, safe space for people who have suffered religious trauma.
1. Understand How Religious Abuse Works
Everyone knows about the Catholic sex scandals. That’s a clear example of religious trauma in its worst form.
But there are other, more subtle forms of abuse, which occur across ecumenical circles. I grew up knowing that some people experienced abuse at the hands of exclusionary religious groups. But I didn’t know how deeply it could scar someone until I watched Netflix’s Queer Eye.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the show, five gay men take a week to make over a person or organization, inside and out. In Season 2, they take a trip to Gay, Georgia (pun very much intended by the producers). Their mission: to reinvigorate the local church.
Early in the episode, the Fab Five visit the church sanctuary to check it out. But one of them, Bobby, hangs back. When his friends invite him in, he shakes his head.
In an interview, he later explained why. “My mother and father were very religious. I carried my Bible to school every day. Christianity was my life,” he says. But for them, “gay people were bad, they were pedophiles, they were evil. So I spent every prayer meeting on every Sunday crying and begging God to not make me gay.”
When he finally came out of the closet, his family and church disowned him.
The trauma from his experience is not superficial, nor easily healed. Decades later, standing on the church’s porch, he still couldn’t bring himself to enter a religious space.
“I had to know where to draw the line for my own mental health, and I think if I had gone into that church, we probably wouldn’t have finished filming that episode that day because I would’ve broken down.”
His story is far too familiar. In my subsequent interviews across the country, I asked about each interviewee’s religious background. Stories like his were shockingly widespread.
As you think about how to serve survivors, it’s important to understand how widespread the problem is and the varied forms it can take.
2. No Judgment
Now that you understand more about religious abuse, it’s time to learn the Golden Rule: no judgment.
Likely, you’re not going to tell someone they’re damned to hell. But church judgment can come in subtler forms, too. Maybe it’s a critical joke about your spouse or child in the sermon. Maybe it’s a raised eyebrow as someone tells you about their lifestyle.
Perhaps most importantly, think about the Christian words and symbols that are often used judgmentally. Words like sin. Or even words like redeem and grace, which are often used in conjunction with theologies of sin and substitutionary atonement.
These words are often used to tell people that they’re bad. That they’re inherently evil. That their very being is flawed. That the church is in the shaming and blaming business.
As such, be aware that certain religious words can have a profoundly negative impact. If you want to use them, it really helps to unpack your non-judgmental theology behind it. When you reframe these words in light of God’s unconditional love, you confront and address the shame that comes hand-in-hand with that theology.
(Or you can just steer clear of those concepts altogether).
3. Pastoral Care
Maybe someone comes to you for a one-on-one conversation. Apply the no-judgment rule here, too.
If they ask about theology or doctrine, you can focus on God’s compassion in your response. Again, try to steer clear of talking about sin, evil, or what your church believes is right vs. wrong. Emphasize everyone’s belovedness.
You can also listen for signs of religious trauma. If you do hear signs of religious abuse, react in the same way that you would if someone divulged physical or sexual abuse. Listen, comfort, and ask what they are needing.
Especially if this person is interested in joining your congregation, you can ask how to make your church a welcoming space for them. Ask what they need in the way of ongoing pastoral care.
And, if they tell you that they’re triggered by your church or something you’re doing, take note. Think about how you can shift your practices.
4. Get Resources
As discussed above, religious trauma can be on par with other forms of abuse. It may have even been combined with physical, psychological, or sexual abuse. As such, you may not be equipped to handle everyone’s needs.
So read up on resources in your area, both religious and secular. Find therapists or spiritual directors familiar with supporting the healing of this type of wound. Perhaps you know people in your congregation.
Look for resources to deal with other interconnected issues, too. Find support groups for LGBTQ people kicked out by their families. Look for domestic violence shelters for women and children in abusive Christian households.
If someone comes to you with a history of religious trauma, don’t hesitate to refer them elsewhere. It’s certainly important to extend pastoral care and offer ongoing support. But keep in mind that they may need resources beyond what you can provide. And then follow up with them to see if they’re getting what they need.
5. Worship
Most guests with religious trauma will not seek out a one-on-one conversation. Their impression of your church will be limited to your sermon and welcome. So, here are a few ways to avoid triggering them during the service itself.
First of all, do not exert any pressure to give money. Many people with religious abuse were told that their spiritual status was tied financial generosity. Short of that, many people feel churches are too focused on bringing in income.
With a larger-than-normal congregation during the holidays, it may be tempting to speak about the congregation’s leaking roof or shrinking tithes. Don’t. This may very well be interpreted as pressure—even from people unaffected by religious trauma—and may induce them to give less.
On a related note, don’t ask people to come back next week. Definitely don’t make a joke about how many more people there are on Christmas than usual. It will come across as pressure and desperation, which are two experiences especially hard for people with religious trauma.
It’s hard to minister to a one-off congregation on Christmas Eve. Especially if you want them to come back. So it’s important to know who you’re talking to.
People who have suffered religious trauma and abuse are tremendously courageous to even consider walking into a church. They may still be there under pressure from their family. If you want to minister to them, recognize what a big deal it is—and think about how you may inadvertently trigger them.
Ultimately, those who have suffered at the hands of the Church need to find an alternative community that will love them unconditionally. That community may not be a religious group—the scars might be too deep.
But if it is your church, we want to do our best to prepare and welcome them. We may not have caused the trauma. But it is our opportunity—and responsibility—to help heal it.
This morning on my Twitter feed I saw an ad for a t-shirt. Huge letters spelled out, “OK, Boomer” in several banner headlines, collar to hem. If you’re not familiar with the term, congratulations for staying out of the worst of the Generation War.
To catch you up: Boomers have often accused Millennials (and now GenZ) of being entitled, lazy, under-motivated, and over-offended.
“OK, Boomer” is a sarcastic, dismissive phrase coined in response by young adults, who feel that Boomers are overly critical of Millennials struggling to handle societal problems. They retort that these problems were in fact handed down to them by—you guessed it—Boomers.
And so we get a plethora of memes about frappacino-addicted Millennials and articles on well-off Boomers ruining the economy. It’s been so intense that apparently, the Gen Xers are feeling ignored. (Trust me, I think you guys are okay sitting this one out.)
The thing is, long before generations were hurling insults at each other on social media, there was a raging Generation War in churches, especially mainline Protestant ones.
Ever since congregations started declining, religious Boomers have been blaming secular Millennials for killing their churches. In return, many Millennials have accused Boomers of being irrelevant, old-fashioned, and prejudiced.
But how did we get so divided in the first place? What are the stereotypes we pin on others? How did those stereotypes mangle the multigenerational relationships that have existed in churches for millennia?
And, given the Generation War in churches, should we even try to have multigenerational churches? Or is it time to create separate religious spaces for the different generations?
There’s a lot of discussion on this site about how Gen X and Boomer pastors can reform their churches to meet the spiritual needs of Millennials and Gen Z. Much of that discussion involves some pretty fundamental shifts out of an old way of meeting spiritual needs.
At times, I’ve probably been guilty of some judgmental posting myself. I wish I wasn’t.
So I think it’s time to address the Generation War in churches and how everyone, including this Millennial, can be part of the solution.
OK, Boomer: Here’s what you need to know about Millennials
So your pews are emptying. Maybe you’ve been in this congregation your whole life. Perhaps you were married here. Or you’ve been steadfastly leading this church and others like it for decades.
Now, it’s a shadow of its former glory. Sanctuaries that were built for 600 weekly congregants aren’t even full on Easter. You don’t have the money to make needed repairs. You’ve had to end important programs.
Do any of these sound familiar? If so, it’s probably due to a lack of young people in your church. Fewer and fewer young families and 20-somethings are attending and tithing. It might be pretty frustrating and sad.
Response 1: Millennials Suck
Responses from Boomers often take one of two forms. The first is a response most aptly titled, “Millennials Suck.” I’ve heard our generation decried as un-spiritual or even godless. We’ve been accused of hedonism, a lack of discipline, and disinterest in serving others.
Here’s why: the Church isn’t doing a good job of meeting our spiritual needs. We’re trying to deal with modern technology, an impossible housing market, youth with skyrocketing rates of mental illness, an increasingly polarized country, and so much more.
We need churches to help us navigate those issues as people of faith. We need you to show us where God is in those moments. But for the most part, churches aren’t equipping us to handle these challenges, practically or spiritually.
And, if we do show up, Boomers often take the opportunity to tell us what we’re doing wrong.
You want to know the fastest way to make a Millennial leave your church? Criticize them for having taken so long to show up or for not giving enough to the congregation. Or just criticize our generation more generally.
If you’re a Boomer, it’s easy to understand why you’re upset. The church that you love is emptying. And it’s because Millennials aren’t coming.
But this is key: it’s not our responsibility to go to church simply for the sake of perpetuating the institution. No matter how much you love it. It’s the Church’s mission to meet the spiritual needs of the society around it.
So if you want to do your part to end the Generation War in churches, drop the stereotypes and think about how you can better serve our unique spiritual needs.
Response 2: Millennials are Unicorns
Here’s the second response: idolizing Millennials. Maybe you don’t hate us. You’re not frustrated.
You just want us in your pews.
This approach is definitely an improvement on the first strategy. But it still won’t work for you. Here’s why: this approach tends to treat Millennials like unicorns: very mysterious, hard-to-catch, and the ultimate prize.
A few semesters ago, I had to visit churches in the neighborhood for a college class. Some friends and I visited a few churches over the course of several Sundays.
Here’s how it went: we walked in. And just like that, we were celebrities.
Everyone wanted to know who we were and where we were from and, of course, how we heard about their congregation. Was it the band that is now playing once a month? Did their new advertising campaign finally work?
Most of all, they really wanted to know—were coming back next Sunday?
As well-intentioned as this response was, it scared everyone off returning a second time. It was super awkward to be in such a spotlight. It came across as really desperate.
But most of all, the church still wasn’t focused on meeting our spiritual needs. The focus still remained on how we could be pulled in so that the church could survive. And that approach can still contribute to the Generation War in churches.
If you want to treat Millennials as valuable, that’s wonderful. But don’t put us on the spot or make us feel responsible for reviving your declining church.
Instead, do your homework. As elusive as we might seem, we’re not unicorns.
If you genuinely want to know how to meet our spiritual needs (and thus draw us in), you don’t need to grope around in the dark. There are real data points that can help you reform your church for this time and cultural moment.
If you want to show us how much you care about us, if you want to get us in your pews, don’t put us on a pedestal. Create a church that meets our spiritual needs.
OK, Millennial: Here’s what you need to know about Boomers
So we’ve addressed some of the most common Boomer responses to Millennials’ secularism. Now we need to take a look at the Millennial contribution. The Generation War in churches goes both ways.
It’s often disconcerting to walk into a church and be scolded or, conversely, treated as a rare celebrity. Both the “Millennials Suck” approach and the “Millennials are Unicorns” approach can understandably turn people off to church.
But here’s what Millennials (myself included) need to understand. When our grandparents grew up, churches provided the very foundation of society.
Ministers and the Bible were easy arbiters of truth. Social lives revolved around church events, not just on Sunday mornings, but throughout the week.
And, perhaps most importantly, people in that era lived in a universally Christian culture.
People could assume everyone around them believed in similar things that they did. Everyone understood Christian lingo and celebrated Christian holidays. They knew that their kids and grandkids would share that religious and cultural identity.
Being Christian and being American were usually synonymous. And it had been like this for as long as anyone could remember.
Christianity certainly still dominates American culture. But it’s not quite the same anymore.
You can’t just assume that your kids and grandkids will believe the same things you do. Not everyone connects over Christian culture and society the same way they used to. Far fewer people are religiously literate.
Maybe you think that this cultural change is a good thing. For the most part, I agree with you. But over time, I’ve learned that it’s important to understand how painful this change is for Boomers (and older).
Even if Christian cultural privilege needs to be lost, it’s still disconcerting and painful for the people losing it.
So, if you want to do your part to end the Generation Wars in churches, try extending a little empathy. The next time an elder in your church comes up to you and lectures you about the secularism of your generation, take a deep breath.
Ask them about what they miss from the church of their youth. And then try gently disabusing them of the stereotypes they have about Millennials.
Should we fix the Generation War in churches?
Is it even worth it? The Generation War in churches is so entrenched. Boomers and Millennials have such different spiritual needs and so many negative stereotypes about each other. Shouldn’t we just create separate services and churches where they can worship?
Absolutely not.
It’s possible for us to all get our spiritual needs met at the same time. Regardless of when we were born, we’re all living in the same society right now. We’re in the same communities. We’re watching the same things happen in our politics, our culture, and our technology.
And that means that we all need help with a lot of the same questions and problems.
And, more importantly, multigenerational churches are invaluable. Young adults are facing mental health challenges and loneliness in record numbers. We need a community of elders that will love us unconditionally.
So too, elders can lose a sense of purpose and energy as they age. Having young people around to help them out and vision new paths forward, can counterbalance that need. Data shows that in multigenerational communities, everyone is healthier and happier when they’re together.
We can gripe about other generations all we want, but the Body of Christ is not as rich when we are divided. The Generation War in churches is profoundly weakening to our unity in Christ.
Christian community is defined by our ability to empathize with each other, to step into each other’s shoes. To carry each other’s burdens.
And, most importantly, Christian community is about seeing Christ at work in each person. No matter how worthy we deem their generation.
So let’s drop the stereotypes, have conversations with each other, and sit down to envision the 21st-Century Church together. Who knows? Maybe, by ending the Generation War in churches, perhaps we can bridge the generation gap in society as a whole.
Welcome to the fourth and final installment of my Christian Social Justice series! In case you’ve missed it, we’ve been exploring how churches can reform their mission work to meet the spiritual needs Millennials bring to the table.
In the past two weeks, we’ve looked at relevant, personal, and tangible approaches to natural disaster ministry and immigration justice. Today, we’re tackling medical debt relief in churches.
Medical debt relief is not your grandmother’s church mission work. Debt in general is not a new problem. But in the last few decades, and especially in the last few years, it has been cropping up in new and more pernicious ways.
A few things have taken place. First of all, student loan costs have ballooned. The price of college, adjusted for inflation, has grown 161% since 1987. Meanwhile, salaries have stagnated. As a result, there’s no longer such a thing as being able to fully work yourself through college.
Second, housing prices are on the rise. Especially for young people.
Take Marin County. When my parents married and bought their first house in the early 1990s, real estate was only slightly more expensive here than the national average. Now, over the last thirty years, their house has skyrocketed in value, far outpacing the rest of the country.
For my friends and me, the story will be very different. We grew up here, formed communities and attachments here. Many of us can’t imagine raising our kids anywhere else.
But real estate here is now shockingly expensive. The salary needed to buy the median-priced home is over $230,000 a year. And let me tell you, none of us are making that much.
Which means, after grad school, we’ll be lucky if we can afford to rent a studio apartment in the town where we grew up. And if we do rent that apartment, and pay for the groceries and gas prices that come along with the area, we’ll have very little money left over for anything else.
That’s not unique to the San Francisco Bay Area–it’s happening all over. As a result, even middle-class Millennials aren’t even trying to invest in a house–it’s simply too expensive. So we tend to spend our money on other things. Things that don’t build equity. And thus we often accrue further debt.
The Worst Kind of Debt
But there’s one more type of skyrocketing debt that hits the hardest—medical debt.
I have some personal experience with this. I was sick for about eighteen months in 2018 and 2019, at times needing constant care. I took two ambulance rides that weren’t really optional. Saw specialist after specialist. Wasn’t able to work. And on and on.
I was incredibly lucky. I had a family that could support me. I also had excellent insurance, which accepted my claims for everything. I didn’t have extended hospital stays, surgeries, or any of the most expensive kinds of medical needs. I got very, very lucky.
A few months later, the bills have started to come in. It’s been a tender time—I’m still recovering emotionally and physically. The stress of keeping on top of the bills and making endless calls to the health insurance company is exhausting.
And I’m lucky. We won’t go into debt.
I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like for a healthy person—much less a sick or recovering one—to go through this process with the added strain of debt. Especially if that person is elderly. Or doesn’t have a support system.
I know that if I was in debt on top of everything else, it would absolutely hinder my recovery.
I’m one of the privileged ones. John Oliver did a piece in 2015 about medical debt and the people it affects. At the beginning, he points out that people go into this kind of debt “through no fault of their own.” This isn’t reckless spending. It’s spending to live.
Medical Debt Relief
Okay, so medical debt is a huge problem. But how can you actually help? And, more to the point, what does this have to do with church mission work?
What if I told you that churches could make a substantial dent? If I told you that, even with a limited budget, you could cheaply relieve hundreds of thousands or millions of dollars medical debt for hundreds or thousands of people in your community?
(Bear with me for a couple paragraphs of the nitty-gritty.)
Turns out, most debt is for sale. If you owe BlueShield $4,000, they can sell that debt to someone else. Usually, BlueShield would sell it to a debt buyer for a tiny fraction, like $50. Then, that debt buyer can try to collect on the full $4,000.
If the debt buyer is unsuccessful in their collection, they may sell to another buyer for an even smaller amount, like $5. That buyer can then call you up and try to collect on the full price. And on and on. And eventually, that $4,000 is on sale for pennies.
The thing is, if you buy up that debt, you’re not legally obligated to collect it. It’s all yours. If you choose, you can forgive it. Voilà. Medical debt relief made cheap.
That’s the premise behind RIP Medical Debt, an organization founded by former collectors to promote medical debt relief. Through their organization, you can cheaply buy people’s medical debt and forgive it. (If you want to know more, you can click here to find out the details of how their charity operates).
And that’s what some churches are now deciding to do. In Chicago, a church worked with RIP to buy $5 million in medical debt relief for nearly 6,000 families in Chicago’s South Side.
The cost to the church? $38,000. Some of which they raised and some of which they donated themselves.
This is a spectacular opportunity for churches, especially ones with low operating budgets. It can be frustrating to see wealthy churches rolling out large-scale mission programs that reach tons of people when you can’t afford to make that same kind of community impact.
Here’s your chance. Reach out to RIP Medical Debt and ask them to work with you. In addition to allocating some of your own funds, you can raise some money. Knock on some doors and become known as the congregation raising money for medical debt relief that will reach some of the poorest families in your town.
In addition to being a wonderful opportunity to affect change, it’s a great way to redefine yourself as relevant in the community. Millennials care about debt, and with rising student loans, GenZ likely will, too. It’s an issue that hugely affects their lives, and it’s something we don’t want to affect others’. It’s timely and hugely tangible in terms of impact.
And, perhaps most importantly, it shows that you can accurately understand and address the needs of our time and culture.
I hope you enjoyed my Christian social justice series. Leave a comment below and tell me what you think—and how your own congregation is pioneering justice for the 21st century.
Last week, I went over how churches can respond to the increasing speight of natural disasters across the country. This week, with the DACA Supreme Court case in the news, I’m taking the opportunity to discuss church immigration work.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past few months, you’ve been inundated with headlines about waves of Latin American immigrants and the U.S.’s various policies toward them. And that’s probably been stirring up a lot of feelings, wherever you are on the political spectrum.
If you hold any kind of leadership role in your church, you might be trying to figure out an appropriate way to respond on a congregational level. Easier said than done. It’s hard to take a crisis out of the headlines and create an effective and compassionate response in your congregation.
Lots of pastors respond with activism, online and in the streets. On Twitter, I’ve seen posts from lots of white pastors reminding us of the Gospel verse, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” On my Facebook feed, I’ve seen pictures of clergy marching alongside DACA recipients outside the Supreme Court.
None of this is bad, in and of itself.
But the fact remains that most mainline Protestant churches are painfully white, even in border states and cities with huge immigrant populations of color. Why? Because we often confuse activism–online and in the streets–for genuine welcome.
I want to be clear: Twitter rants and marches have their place. Activism and protest are necessary parts of social justice. But righteous anger is not the same thing as actually welcoming the marginalized.
We’ve got a long way to go before we can claim that we are fully following Jesus’ call to include and connect with the foreigners in our land.
Why did Jesus ask us to look out for immigrants in the first place?
Perhaps it’s the sheer number of needs their vulnerability brings. Immigrants, especially poorer ones, need physical safety, nourishment, and shelter.
But they also, like the rest of us, long for community and connection, which is often in short supply after leaving home under duress. And those needs may be magnified by the traumatic experiences that sometimes take place on their journeys.
There are so many angles to caring for the stranger. So many opportunities to enact welcome.
So, in light of the depth and breadth of needs among our siblings, here are five steps to creating an effective, conscientious model for your church immigration work.
(If you don’t live in an area with many immigrants, you can expand this guide to connect with any underserved group in your community.)
1. Determine what group of immigrants needs to be welcomed.
There is no unified “immigrant community” in the United States. So what do the immigrant populations in your community look like?
Are they predominantly from one region, country, culture, or ethnicity? Are they mostly documented or undocumented? What languages do they speak? Is it mostly single men or families with children?
There may be more than one population you’d like to serve. For instance, if you live in Southern California, there may be busloads of Central American immigrants passing through. At the same time, you may also live in a community of Mexican day laborers who have been settled for years.
Each community will bring a specific set of needs.
2. Ask immigrants in your congregation to participate in church immigration work.
If you already have immigrants in your congregation, make sure to ask them for their thoughts and ideas.
They may already be painfully conscious of being some of the only people from their ethnic or cultural group in the congregation. So make sure to be discreet about asking. Don’t assume or pressure them into giving you advice. Definitely, don’t put them on the spot.
But offer the opportunity to be involved in immigration ministry both inside and outside the church walls. They may also be able to connect you to community leaders, who already have their finger on the pulse of the needs of the population you’re serving.
3. Ask community leaders how you can be of service to them.
The biggest potential pitfall of church immigration work is the white savior complex. The white savior complex is when white communities view themselves as heroes helping “less fortunate” people of color.
The best way to avoid the white savior complex is by coming alongside existing leaders in the immigrant community, rather than creating and leading new projects.
Find immigrant communities’ churches and talk to their pastors. Go to the offices of immigration lawyers in the area. Check in with the leaders of charities. Go to community meetings and call representatives.
Ask each of them: what does this community need? What role can we play in helping you meet their needs?
4. Think about ALL kinds of needs—physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual.
Most churches begin (and sometimes end) church immigration work by addressing physical needs, like food, jobs, and housing.
But only offering physical help without forming an emotional and spiritual connection puts up a barrier between helpers and recipients. (Not to mention, it implies that immigrants need physical help but aren’t worthy of real relationship. See white savior complex above.)
So, in addition to physical needs, think about how to create a welcoming environment that goes beyond physical support.
Maybe the church can connect immigrants with a therapist who can see them for a subsidized rate. Perhaps you can pair up English and Spanish speakers for two-way language lessons.
Maybe your church can host a potluck. Or pair up Spanish and English-speaking families for a dinner once a month. Encourage parents with children to share babysitting duties or swap playdates.
If you’re feeling really bold, think about ways that the church service could shift.
How could your liturgy better accommodate a multi-racial, multi-cultural congregation? Could you invite someone to do the sermon in Spanish once a month, with translation on a screen? Or learn to say the Eucharistic Liturgy in another language?
What about staffing Sunday Schools and youth groups with bilingual volunteers?
5. Ask the community how you can be of service to them.
After you’ve talked to community leaders, it’s time to reach out to the community itself. Find some volunteers who are fluent in the language of the immigrant group and set up shop at community events.
Hopefully, you’ve already created a bond with community leaders. See if they’ll invite you to set up a booth at community meetings, church fellowship halls, or local food banks.
Make it clear that this is about including and welcoming them—not about trying to boost your attendance numbers or intrude in their space. Remember that you are their guests in their community, not swooping in to save the day.
In the end, if you hold any kind of leadership role in your church, you know it’s hard to address justice issues in a timely manner. Truly living out Jesus’ commandment is difficult. It’s a lot harder than Facebook activism or “helping” a community without creating real relationships.
But the work is worthwhile. Millennials and minorities are calling churches to pioneer effective, personal church immigration work. This is one way you can make a sizeable, relevant, and personal impact in your community. It’s the kind of social justice many Millennials are craving.
Come back next week for my final installment in the Christian Social Justice series on debt relief.
Welcome to my Christian Social Justice series! In case you missed it: last week, we found out that Millennials are tired of intangible, remote approaches to social justice. Facebook activism and donation-heavy programs simply aren’t cutting it. But how can churches work for justice in a way young adults can understand, connect with, and want to join?
For the rest of the series, I’m going to be discussing examples of effective, tangible, and often personal approaches to social justice issues like immigration and poverty. This week, we’re tackling the Church response to natural disasters.
I’m writing this from a cold parking lot early in the morning, hunched over a dying laptop and a non-functional phone. A hundred of my neighbors and I are eagerly parked around the entrance of our local grocery store, waiting for one precious commodity—ice. Meanwhile, my other family members are at home. They’re filtering water, buying candles, waiting in gas lines, and charging solar-powered batteries.
Sound like a trip back to the Dark Ages? Nope. Just a five-day power outage. Which, in Northern California, is apparently our new reality.
I’m not too upset, honestly. It could be a lot worse. Two families we know personally were evacuated. One nearly lost their house. Thousands of firefighters are spending days breathing in smoke on very little sleep. So, as frustrated and uncomfortable as I am, I know I’m pretty lucky.
Science has connected many of these extreme events to climate change. Which, incidentally, is a cause that Millennials care about in record numbers. Even the conservative ones among us. Creating a church response to natural disasters demonstrates that you are taking actionable steps to acknowledge and mitigate the effects of the climate crisis.
(And even if you don’t believe in climate change, hopefully, we can just agree that it’s important to help the victims of natural disasters.)
Past experiences have proven that extreme weather events disproportionately affect the least of these. Sometimes, it’s those who can’t afford to pay for rebuilding costs. Other times, it’s the elderly and disabled, who rely on power and heat to stay alive.
This means that creating a Church response to natural disasters is no less than a social justice opportunity.
So how do we respond? And how do churches with only a few people on staff provide havens to their communities in times of trouble?
First, a disclaimer: The point of this article is to get your creative juices flowing and help facilitate a vision. This post is not meant to contradict or replace the advice of emergency services professionals. Any idea discussed here should be thoroughly vetted in conjunction with the laws of your city and state and with emergency services experts in your area. And, obviously, certain ideas are more appropriate for smaller churches, while others are feasible only at big ones.
We’ll begin with four different areas to consider when developing your church response to natural disasters. Afterward, we’ll consider how to prepare for your chosen ministry.
1. Church Response to Natural Disasters: Social Media
First off, here’s an opportunity to use social media in the most helpful possible way: turn your feeds into a consolidated source of information.
During our blackout, we received confusing and often conflicting updates from our Sheriff’s Office, City Hall, City Police, and local utility. Each of these agencies also had text and social media alerts. Then there were the rumor mills by word of mouth, NextDoor, and Facebook. It was a veritable swamp of unreliable information.
You can combat this phenomenon by creating one volunteer as a point person. They can spend their time monitoring the information coming from websites and texts and then consolidate it into coordinated Facebook and Twitter feeds. Trust me, people will be grateful.
2. Church Response to Natural Disasters: Maximizing Your Space
Here’s the biggest resource you have to offer: your building. Most church complexes include a sanctuary, fellowship hall, kitchen, Sunday school/classroom wing, church office, and perhaps a smaller chapel. This is a lot of space. Use it well.
The most obvious one is the kitchen. Make a cache of food and cooking supplies available so that you can cook for the hungry in the event of earthquake. Buy several industrial freezers filled with ice so you can hand it out and make more if others can’t. Think through how you will cook without gas or power.
Then, there’s the sanctuary. If you anticipate numerous people will be out of their homes, you can turn the sanctuary into a dormitory. Buy sleeping bags, futons, and blankets to put on the pews. String up curtains so people can have some privacy.
You can use classroom space to put up families with babies, disabled people or others who need their own space. If you anticipate people will be there for a long time, you can even have some washers and dryers ready to go.
Maybe people have access to their homes, but the power is out. Turn your chapel or fellowship hall into a day lounge/work area. Buy up power strips and a generator. Make sure you’ve updated your electrical system to accommodate lights, heating, wifi and charging needs. You can even set up TVs or games for kids.
Or perhaps you anticipate that people will need information. Repurpose your church offices into information booths. If people from other parts of the country are concerned about the welfare of their elderly or disabled relatives, you can funnel their concerns to the police department. Or, you can call the loved ones of people who have made it safely to your shelter.
Both before and during natural disasters, you can establish yourself on social media as a rendezvous point for separated families. In case of the loss of cell phone signal and wifi, connect good old fashioned landlines so that people can check in with their loved ones.
Church complexes, for better or worse, are often equipped with lots of space that they don’t use anymore. Here is your chance to use it for good!
3. Church Response to Natural Disasters: Pastoral Care
Here is where you can provide a unique service. The emotional toll of a natural disaster is often as bad as, or worse than, the physical one. Make sure your pastoral staff arrives soon after an emergency happens. Invite other pastors, too. Wear a collar or stole so you’re easily visible.
If you’ve only got a small number of people in your building, wander around and offer support. If you’ve got larger numbers, you can section off the church office or other rooms to create a designated space. Online, you can post prayers, collects, and Bible verses.
Alternatively, it’s never a bad time to offer worship. Set aside a room or a corner for the Eucharist and other sacraments, a healing service, or compline for overnight guests. Nothing needs to be fancy or liturgically correct. It just needs to happen.
Allow your guests to provide pastoral care to each other, too. If your religious group prays the rosary, meditates, or uses other lay-led prayer practices, find someone willing to lead. If your music staff is around, they can lead those who wish in hymns, secular music, or sing-alongs for children. Even if your music staff isn’t around, chances are, someone will know how to play.
One note: make sure that none of these are forced. Set up areas for these activities in such a way that everyone knows it’s happening, but people are not forced to participate. Otherwise, it may feel like you’re taking advantage of a disaster to evangelize.
This area is your opportunity to shine, to be a unique resource to your city. Go all-out.
4. Church Response to Natural Disasters: The Least of These
Think about what you can do for those most vulnerable groups. Create a list of your congregants who will need home visit check-ins, or who will need to be driven to the church shelter. Create a go-fund me page for low-income members of your community so that other congregations around the country can contribute.
Make sure the homeless know they can come to your church in case of extreme temperatures or rain. Think about how to support and entertain kids (their parents will probably be pretty grateful as well). Overall, just think ahead about how you can help those who will need it most.
Okay, feeling overwhelmed yet? Deep breath. That was a lot. Again, you definitely do not need to provide all of these services. Just talk to your staff and lay leaders to create the most feasible vision for your church response to natural disasters. Once you’ve got an idea of where you’re going, it’s time to think about getting prepared.
5. Before Disaster Hits: Get yourself prepared.
Put your own oxygen mask on first, people. You can’t help those in your community if your church building is barely functional itself. This often means thinking ahead, months before your “season” of bad weather starts.
The day before the power outage, as we just started to grasp the reality of what was coming, my family and I started to scramble for generators, ice, and other resources.
Too late. Everything was sold out—or behind huge, time-consuming lines. Don’t be like us.
Once you’ve figured out what you’ll need in a disaster, it’s time to get prepared with research and classes. In addition to the Red Cross, check out denominational resources for disaster preparedness and relief. Episcopal Relief & Development has a comprehensive guide on church preparedness here. As another example, United Methodist Insurance made a handy little book, which you can download for free.
If you’re near a disaster zone, visit government shelters or power stations and see what they’re doing. Send your volunteers to help out and get trained while they’re at it.
You can also try to reach out to the local Office of Emergency Services or other government agencies.
Then, bring a vision back to your congregation for your church response to natural disasters. This will often involve raising some money. Maybe you need to buy an industrial generator or re-do the insulation so that you’ll be more resilient against extreme temperatures. Perhaps you need to upgrade your electrical system. You may even need a large-scale remodel to make seismic upgrades.
6. Before Disaster Hits: Get others prepared.
Okay, so your church is weather-proofed. Now you’re ready to think about helping others. This is one way that social media, texting, and the Internet can come in.
Connect as many of your congregants as possible to emergency text alert systems, which will let them know that an emergency has occurred and that you need volunteers. Spend time training.
Shortly before your “season” starts, use social media to broadcast your plan. Share your address and the services you will provide. Forward this information to government officials.
You can use more traditional techniques also—staff a booth at your local farmer’s market. Put up flyers downtown. Go to community meetings.
In the days before an imminent weather event, re-hash your publicity campaign all over again. If you’ve got an especially wonderful group of volunteers, you can even try knocking on some doors.
Creating a church response to natural disasters is a huge undertaking. Heck, the people in charge of the government response to natural disasters are often overwhelmed. It’s not something most churches are doing on a large scale yet, except a few megachurches. But it’s what’s needed. Maybe you only do one thing mentioned above. Maybe you join forces with another church.
Or maybe you don’t do any of these services, but instead encourage congregants to volunteer in other shelters. But in the age of climate disasters, you have a huge opportunity to do something.
And, if you do, this is a chance to enlist Millennial participation. As I said, we’re pretty cognizant of climate change, and we care about its effects a lot. When disaster strikes, churches have the opportunity to serve in very clear, tangible, and relevant ways. Which is exactly what Millennials are craving.
As you work to envision your church response to natural disasters, you can use social media, NextDoor, and other platforms to ask Millennials to sign up to volunteer. You can even hire a few young adults to manage the online part of preparation and implementation.
Just don’t squander this opportunity to make young people central in your social justice outreach. And don’t squander the opportunity for social justice itself.
Come back next week for Week 3 in my Christian Social Justice series–we’re tackling immigration justice!