How should we as the Methodist Church respond to the not so recent Statistics for Mission Report that details how, despite reaching half a million people a week through our church activities, we are in a state of decline? Can the Methodist Church, as Mark Woods of Christian Today put it, ‘pull out of its nosedive?’ Will our training take over, and will we stay panic free whilst resisting the increasing G-force for long enough to make a difference? Is this really the end? Or could it be, as Damian Arnold writing for the Times intimates (despite some inaccuracies as to the contents of Loraine Mellor’s Presidential Address), that our youth, pioneer and fresh expressions focus, and our dogged efforts to meet need wherever we see it, might be enough to turn things around?
If fresh expressions and pioneer ministry were not challenging enough for those who would prefer to Keep Calm and Carry On, the Methodist Conference’s Notice of Motion whicht encourages local churches to develop growth plans or end of life plans will serve as a slap in the face to anyone who is at risk of falling unconscious. And besides, Keep Calm and Carry On, that phase made iconic with various additions; ‘You’re only 45‘, ‘Enjoy the Party‘, ‘Carry on Bellringing‘; emblazoned on a multitude of consumer goods, only works if you have a plan in place. Understandably, the idea that local churches might develop a growth plan or end of life plan has stimulated rather a lot of discussion.
Care when speaking of death
My first instinct was to forget about the concept of death. Not because I am frightened of it, nor because I don’t believe in resurrection (of course I do), but because it is not hard to convince small churches that they are dying. To compound matters, in my experience, as people tire they lose the energy and belief that something else is possible such as adopting a different pattern of worship, working in partnership with other community groups, or simply giving more of their focus over to fellowship and mission. Our challenge is to present people with a different narrative other than accepting closure as an inevitability. To push the point further, if you present a tired and small church with its age profile, low membership, and anticipated future cost, persuading them to close is not difficult. They may not like it. The surrounding community may be ‘up-in-arms’. But ultimately, they will see the (human) logic in it and accept it. The trouble is that human logic can be ungodly. Of course, the aim of the end of life plan (given the Spirit in which Elaine Lindridge spoke to this motion) is not to close churches, but to renew them. At the same time, I accept that some churches are financially comfortable, failing to engage in mission, and expecting an unwarranted level of circuit support. Could the end of life plan be the shock that resets the heartbeat of many of our churches back into the right rhythm again?
The key question is how we help churches move to a position of seeing life amidst death, rather than death amidst life? It is not so much that churches need to accept that death will occur at some point. Rather, they need to embrace change and movement if they wish to stay alive. It is not the local church that needs to go, so much as the traditions which we maintain that are no longer helpful or appropriate for our present contexts. Churches often place unreasonable expectations on themselves, fuelled by the fear of offending a ghost from the past who started this or that, but who in reality would have never expected them to have carried on regardless for so long. Perhaps that is another real-life Keep Calm slogan that we must disown.
Guarding against euthanasia
My overriding concern is that what has begun with deep missiological intent will be used unwittingly (or even deliberately) to sanction a form of ecclesial-euthanasia by the back door. How do we guard against this, particularly given that some churches may already recognise their frailty, be over-conscious about their inadequacies, and see themselves as a millstone around the neck of a wider circuit which may be struggling to resource the whole? I look forward to seeing the connexional resources; these will, no doubt, attempt to counter this. But the truth of the matter is that what we need is not only good resources but also determined leaders who are prepared to question why the rest of the crew might be preparing to bale out when they have not explored all the options. Superintendents take note: we set the tone for mission. This is happening on our watch. Of course, I say that as one myself, rather than assuming some ascendency that I do not have.
Two reflections and a powerful thought
Three reflections emerged on this theme at our recent Northampton District superintendent’s meeting. The first is my own – from my past experience as an NHS Chaplain and drawing from the difference between hospital and hospice care, and the fact that treatment options are never constructed in a vacuum as if patients are ever left to diagnose themselves: local circuits have a key role to play. The second follows input from Andy Fyall (Stamford and Rutland) who reminded us that just because we make a funeral plan does not mean that we expect to die tomorrow. The third, which I suspect will receive deeper attention from elsewhere, is that Jesus had an end of life plan. I will leave that hanging for your further reflection. It really is quite a powerful thought.
End of life plans and the NHS
In my last post, I also worked as an on-call chaplain for the NHS. It was enjoyable. However, rarely was I called upon to celebrate good news. Most of the time I was asked to pray with those who were dying. Sometimes they were on their own. At other times I arrived to find a cloud of witnesses (or relatives) by the patient, with some family members having travelled long distances to be alongside them. My first move when checking in at the nurse’s station was to ask what requests had been included on the Liverpool Care Pathway (LCP) plan. The idea behind the LCP was to make patients as comfortable as possible. It allowed a comfortable, dignified and pain-free death when the time came. It also included details about what patients had requested in terms of spiritual support.
By 2013, attitudes to the care pathway had changed. Whilst there were good examples of its implementation, a government review found that in some cases there were significant failings. In some instances, communication between patients and families was poor. There were concerns about treatment decisions being made without relatives being informed, family members not being told their loved ones were dying, and doctors communicating hurriedly and inappropriately. One major difficulty rests in how it can be difficult to diagnose when someone is about to die. Furthermore, in some cases, patients recovered despite their relatives being told that death was approaching. In 2014, the LCP was phased out, usurped by the One Chance to Get it Right report. This highlighted five priorities of care. The concept of a ‘pathway’ was dropped – a patient’s final days and hours are now viewed as a ‘continuum’. Staff should be proactive rather than reactive in their communication with patients and families. The dying person decides who else to be involved in discussions about end of life. The needs of families are explored and met as far as possible. The care plan (which includes food and drink, symptom control, psychological, social and spiritual support), is agreed and delivered with compassion. End of life plans are personalised and not generic. (Reference; ‘What happened to the Liverpool Care Pathway?’ Produced by Compassion in Dying.)
Consequently, If there is a parallel to be drawn between churches and people in terms of how they decline (and that is a big ‘if’), the failures of the LCP serve to remind us about the dangers inherent in pronouncing that death is inevitable. It also challenges us to ensure that the local church is in control of what is happening, rather than its relatives. Come to think of it, Gareth (my presbyteral colleague) and I are even beginning to question whether we can in fact talk of a local church going through death and resurrection. People die and will be resurrected. But churches? Whilst I realise that the death and resurrection motif is an easy one to grasp when a church faces closure, I find myself questioning whether this is a step too far in our extrapolation. Where does it say in scripture that a local church dies? In our own polity we do not use this term: we speak of ‘ceasing to meet.’ Moreover, Ekklesia describes the people of God who are called out to form a body of the faithful. And just as God can call people into this, God can call them out of it to gather together with others elsewhere. Taking this line then, the crucial issue for us to explore with people is not when they anticipate that their death will come. The focus needs to be on where and how they feel God is calling them to serve. Another issue is that just as hospitals exist as a place where all of our medical resource and expertise can be put into action to improve someone’s condition, circuits can do the same for struggling churches. They have the power to turn on the oxygen and monitor what is happening. How will circuits discern who is for the hospital and whose future days might be best lived out in a hospice?
Funeral plans
A funeral plan is not quite the same as an end of life plan. Some funeral plans come with a free pen, should you be persuaded by the smiley-face presenter on the television. Thinking seriously, I am still shocked, and continue to pray for a lady in one of our churches whose son died tragically from a heart attack at the age of 45. My initial thoughts combined two facts together. The suddenness of it all, and the fact that her son was my age. There comes a time in life when you accept the probability that you have less time ahead of you than you have spent.
At our superintendent’s meeting, Andy Fyall helpfully pointed out that just because someone creates a funeral plan does not mean that they are expecting to die tomorrow. Whilst the end goal is to ensure that those who are left behind are not left with the cost of the funeral fee, or feeling duty-bound to curate our steamroller collection, it will invariably focus the mind back to what you want to achieve in this life. This is, without doubt, what the church end of life plan will intend to do.
To close…
One thing that has been a constant surprise in my own ministry has been how older members of my congregations have in fact been surprisingly open to new mission initiatives. The reason for this? They know that they are in their twilight years and are desperate to leave something behind for the next generation. So, will growth plans or end of life plans help local churches? Concurring with Rachel Deigh (Church Growth Plans versus End of Life Plans – http://www.seedbed.com/church-growth-plans-vs-end-of-life-plans/), I think we need both. I think that the end of life plan feeds the growth plan. However, one thing I am sure of, whatever the future holds, is that talk of end of life (which inevitably conjures up images of death) will need to be discussed with great care, and the outcomes will depend on our how we approach this as church leaders.