The Danger of Church Nostalgia

I’m increasingly convinced that ecclesiastical nostalgia is the greatest threat to church growth.

When we treat faith like a decorative Precious Moments figurine, rather than as a life-transforming force, we domesticate its power. And a tamed faith, is really no faith at all.

Now, there are different types of nostalgia that arise in churches. Take the classic question, “Why don’t we have a children’s choir anymore?” There’s nostalgia for a time before social media, before the over-scheduling of children, before the rise of helicopter parenting. 

But if you dig deep enough, every church has parishioners who want a return to the 1950s church model. Still! Even if they never experienced it themselves! A place where the sheer number of post-war births had every parish scrambling to build a new Sunday School wing. And for some reason put large stages in their parish halls. 

Of course, nostalgia also papers over reality. It’s selective memory, bathed in what we hope to remember and not necessarily that which actually happened. 

In the case of the church, things weren’t necessarily better “back then.” First of all, the church’s glory days may not actually have been as glorious as we imagine — check the attendance figures in the old parish registers. But beyond that, lots of people went to church not because they took seriously the teachings of Jesus Christ but because…everyone else was going. It’s just what you did. 

The truth is that this stubborn question, "Why don’t we have a children’s choir anymore?” can also be used as a not-so-subtle dig at current church leadership: “Why aren’t you bringing in more young families? Why aren’t the pews full every Sunday? Why aren’t the collection plates overflowing? You must be doing this wrong. And by the way, what ever happened to mite boxes?!” 

The rosy, if unrealistic, memories of how things used to be hold up a bar that present-day congregations can't possibly measure up to. And that's not good for anyone.

Which leads us to a more personal nostalgia in the form of childhood memories rooted in experiences at church, but not necessarily connected to faith. I get a lot of people who proudly tell me, "I was baptized at this church! This church means so much to me!" And I love that. But often when I ask about their faith or their ongoing spiritual life, I get blank stares or mumbled responses about how they should really start going again. 

Look, people exist on a wide continuum of faith. This isn't to judge anyone's spiritual journey. But I'm always sad when I meet someone whose faith never really left the realm of ecclesiastical nostalgia.

Again, this isn’t to denigrate anyone’s fond memories of going to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve with their late father and falling asleep in the back of the Chevy station wagon on the ride home. Sometimes sweet memories do lead one down the path of a vibrant and engaged faith. After all, with God all things are possible.

But here's the reality:

A nostalgic faith is a comfortable faith. It doesn’t challenge us or push us to change. 

A nostalgic faith is a contented faith. It doesn’t invite us to seek a deeper relationship with Jesus. 

A nostalgic faith is a conservative faith — not in the political sense — but in the sense that it conserves and turns the past into an idol.

I guess all of this is to invite the question, is nostalgia informing your faith in a way that crowds out the possibility of personal and ecclesiastical transformation? We all bring a degree of religious nostalgia to the eucharistic table. But are there layers we might shed to foster growth in our parishes and in ourselves?

Ready or not, God is leading us into the future. The good news is that it's a future brimming with hope and possibility.

Administering Communion - It's not about you!

As long as I'm in the blogging mood -- hello 2007! -- let's talk about administering communion. 

First of all, there is no greater joy or privilege as a priest than sharing the sacrament with God's people. I love watching the whole community come up to the communion rail with outstretched hands. There are small hands still awash in colorful paint from the latest Sunday School project; arthritic, wrinkled hands; rough hands that have worked hard all week; lotion-smoothed hands adorned with rings; nondescript middle-aged hands that might have a paper cut from shuffling papers. But everyone is reaching out to receive the same thing: Jesus. 

With this in mind, and I know this will come across as judgy to some, if you're a priest, for the love of God, please don't:

1. Say the person's name. This is not about you or your relationship with the communicant. This is a holy moment between the person receiving the eucharist and Jesus. You're merely a conduit, so get out of the way! Also, how do you think it makes the visitor at the rail feel when you say everyone's name but theirs? Excluded!

2. Touch or grasp the person's hand. Or shoulder. Or any part of their body. This is not some intimate moment between the priest and the communicant. This is an intimate moment between the person and Jesus. Just give them the sacrament and...get out of the way! 

3. Slowly press the host into the person's hand while gazing deeply into their eyes. Again, it's not about you or your personal relationship with the person receiving communion. Plus, this is just creepy!

4. Change the words of administration. I've heard various things over the years from both priests and chalice bearers. Stick to the Prayer Book! There's a reason these particular words are said by the whole church. "Changing it up," is a distraction for the person receiving the sacrament. Save your innovation for the guitar mass that will surely bring in the youth.

5. Have a conversation. This isn't the time for chit chat or joking around. Seriously. Save it for coffee hour.

Remember, receiving the sacrament should be a moment of transformation. When we reach out our hearts as well as our hands to receive the living Christ, an astounding thing happens! Burdens are lifted, sins are forgiven, grace amazes, joy thrives, and peace abounds. Our role is simply to give space for that to happen, to allow God's grace and love to work in the hearts of all who reach out their hands to receive Jesus. 

The holy mysteries of the Eucharist are both sufficient and life-giving. And thanks be to God for that.

Can we talk about the handshake line?

Yes, it's been ages since I've written a blog post (doesn't anyone actually blog anymore?!). But I was recently diagnosed with shingles, so I'm trying to "rest" for a couple days and let the anti-viral meds kick in. Of course, when I rest, the mind starts going and I started thinking about the post-church handshake line.

So...

Can we talk about the handshake line?

First of all, I’m happy to shake your hand. But if you’d rather not, that’s cool too. Fist bump, elbow bump, a nod, a wave, whatever you're comfortable with is fine with me.

I’m happy to give you a hug, if that’s your jam, but I will never initiate one. Nobody should ever feel pressure to hug their priest, or anyone else for that matter.

This is a time for a brief greeting and maybe a quick comment. It’s not the place for an in-depth conversation about why I decided to change the Christmas Eve service times this year (for the record, I did not). 

If you tell me something important, I will forget it. Please follow it up with an email. Especially if it’s a pastoral issue. 

If you feel this is the time to lodge a complaint or tell me something you dislike about me, my ministry, or my preaching, know that I’d much rather meet over coffee to discuss the issue. Also, know that I will absolutely remember your comment, especially if it’s mean-spirited or unfair.

I’m happy to hear all about your recent vacation to Turks and Caicos. At Coffee Hour.

If you walk past me without offering a greeting, I never take this personally. Sunday morning can bring up various emotions -- we're all at different places in our lives and some of those places are hard to bear.

Please don’t comment on my appearance, and know that I will never comment on yours. My women clergy colleagues bear this burden much more than men. Just don't go there, even if it's a compliment. 

Please do say your name - that’s always appreciated, especially in a large congregation where it’s impossible to know everyone. Obviously there are some people who need no introduction because we’re actively serving in ministry with them. But the handshake line is a blur, and it's nice to be reminded of names. Or just wear a name tag!

Don't be offended if I can't remember meeting you even though we "met" on the handshake line after the fourth service on Easter Day in 2022.

In the end, I truly do love greeting everyone after church. I love giving high fives to children, welcoming visitors, seeing familiar faces, and watching the fullness of the Body of Christ leave the church renewed, transformed, and inspired to love and serve the Lord in the coming week. 

In Good Faith: A Bedrock Christmas

In my (for now very occasional) In Good Faith column, I write about the ultimate Christmas prophecy: from The Flintstones.

A Bedrock Christmas

Did you know, there’s a Christmas episode of the Flintstones? It originally aired on December

25, 1964, as part of the original cartoon series. In it, Fred gets a part-time job at Macyrock’s department store to help finance the family’s Christmas. Mr. Macyrock initially fires Fred for being his usual doofus self, but reconsiders when he learns that the store’s regular Santa Claus has the flu. Fred proves a natural at entertaining the children and by the end of his stint, Mr. Macyrock proclaims Fred as the best Santa they’ve ever had. 

Oh, but that’s not the end of the story. On Christmas Eve, two of Santa’s elves, named Blinky and Twinky, appear to Fred as Macyrock’s is closing for the night. They explain to Fred that the real Santa Claus is sick and they ask him to help deliver presents to children around the world. As Fred steps in to save the day, we see him perched atop Santa’s sleigh shouting “Merry Christmas” in French, Italian, German, Dutch, English, and Swedish. 

This is all very nice, until you do the math. And you think, “Wait a minute. The Flintstones took place in the Stone Age. That was two-and-a-half million years before Jesus was born in Bethlehem.”

But as Christmas has become increasingly secular, it’s entirely possible to celebrate the holiday like the Flintstones: completely devoid of faith. You can celebrate Christmas without any sense of what it’s about or why it matters. 

Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with this. Many of the people we know and care about lean into this mid-winter celebration with great joy. They put up beautifully decorated trees and reverently place garland on their banisters. They gather friends and family for Christmas dinner, pulling out all the culinary stops, reveling in this most wonderful time of the year. This is all good and even holy in its own way. But, as with the Flintstones’ Christmas, there’s something missing. 

For Christians, the deep truth embedded in the celebration of our Lord’s birth is that God entered the world in human form. Not to condemn the world in its brokenness, but as an act of love. That’s the source of our joy; it’s what lights up the world, making it brighter than even the gaudiest holiday displays.

This season, I invite you to pause amid your own revelry to reflect upon the light that transcends even the brightness of the famous Worth Avenue Christmas tree. This is the light that shines in the darkness, but the darkness did not and cannot overcome it. It is the light that enters our hearts anew year after year. It is the light that offers desperately needed hope and meaning to our lives. 

Truth be told, I’m still not sure why Fred yelled out “Merry Christmas!” rather than “Yabadabadoo!” from Santa’s sleigh in that Flintstones’ Christmas episode. But however and wherever you celebrate this year, please know that you are deeply loved by the God who created you. And that through the birth of God’s son, God invites you into an ever-deepening and ever-unfolding relationship. 

Merry Christmas, friends. May the true joy of this season shine brightly within you.

The Rev. Tim Schenck serves as Rector of the Church of Bethesda-by-the-Sea in Palm Beach. 

Family Ministry Coordinator at BBTS

 

Are you passionate about ministry with children and youth? Consider applying for this newly created, full-time lay position at Bethesda-by-the-Sea in Palm Beach, Florida. Exciting things are happening and the Spirit is moving in this place! 

 Family Ministry Coordinator 

Position Description

Position Description

The Family Ministry Coordinator is responsible for implementing and administering Christian formation programs for children from birth through 12^th grade. Working with clergy, church staff, and volunteers, the focus is on sharing our faith, while fostering a culture of joy and invitation. This is a full-time position that offers a competitive compensation package and excellent benefits. 

 

About Bethesda-by-the-Sea 

Bethesda is a large and thriving Episcopal parish located on a beautiful campus in Palm Beach, Florida. We are seeking to grow and enrich our ministry to children and youth and are committed to doing so. Founded in 1889, Bethesda has more than a thousand members and an annual budget of $4 million. We currently see 20 to 30 children each Sunday and have approximately 20 middle and high school youth. Formation for children and youth takes place on Sunday mornings and at our Wednesday evening Middle Way program. 

 

Accountability:

Reports to the Associate Priest.

Qualifications:

·      In addition to a deep faith and a love of children, the successful candidate will be creative, energetic, organized, and passionate about the vision and ministry of Bethesda.

·      Ability to connect and form meaningful relationships with children, youth, and families of diverse backgrounds.

·      Bachelor’s degree and minimum three years of youth and/or children’s ministry.

·      Knowledge of the Episcopal Church is highly desirable. 

·      Ability to organize events.

·      Experience in e-mail marketing software (Constant Contact, Mail Chimp).

·      Experience with social media tools (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram).

·      Ability to work on weekends and major holidays, in addition to regular weekday hours.

 

Essential Job Functions:

·      Coordinate and oversee all areas of Christian formation for children and youth, including Sunday School, Youth Group, Confirmation Class, and annual youth mission trips. 

·      Work with clergy and others to develop or implement appropriate curricula. 

·      Recruit, train, schedule, and encourage volunteer teachers and youth workers.

·      Work with the parish clergy to establish goals, determine priorities, and set the calendar for all ministry with children, youth, and families. 

·      Along with volunteers and staff, plan and lead special events such as the Christmas Eve Pageant, Trivia Night, Mardi Gras, and Spring Carnival.

·      Assist in preparing the annual family ministry budget and monitor it throughout the year. 

·      Coordinate the procurement and maintenance of all materials and equipment for Sunday School and youth ministry programs.

·      Maintain database with accurate information for children, youth, and families.

·      Communicate and promote family ministry programs and events, including information for Sunday leaflets, e-newsletter, website, and social media, as well as to the wider community.

·      Develop relationships with local schools and create ongoing volunteer opportunities for students.

·      Establish and implement a consistent, clear, and regular communications plan with children, youth, and families.

·      Coordinate Safe Church certification for parishioners in contact with children and youth.

·      Hire, supervise, and support nursery staff. 

Salary:

Commensurate with experience.

 

To Apply:

Please send a resume and cover letter to Mr. Joe Sanelli, Parish Administrator, at sanelli@bbts.org.