I have never seen the city empty this quickly. By this time the roads should be busy with pilgrims returning home after the festival, but today the streets are empty. There are no market traders selling their wares. Anyone without a reason to stay has gone. Meanwhile, there is a menacing silence about the place as the Roman soldiers continue to search house to house, and people keep their heads down. But there is more to this mood than our fears about Pilate’s barbarism and what the soldiers are capable of. Although we despise it, bloodshed and crucifixions are commonplace. The bitter truth, however, is that on this occasion, rather than being mere bystanders, some of our leaders have been complicit in the torture and death of one of our own. Jesus blood is on our hands. For generations, we have always held the higher moral ground. But last week, our leaders failed us. Let us say it as it is: Jesus death was pure political manoeuvring. Ciaphas even declared it ahead of time; ‘Wouldn’t it be more expedient for one man to die than for a whole nation to be destroyed?’ The truth is that the Sanhedrin were never worried about Jesus leading an armed uprising. They were more concerned about preserving their own authority as he pointed at their failings. So Jesus became their whipping boy, their fall guy, their scapegoat. Put simply, their case does not stack up. How could a man who saw the greatest faith in a centurion, declared ‘Render unto Caesar what is Ceasars’, and forbade me to fight back in the Garden (healing the high-priests servant in the process), ever be accused of inciting an armed struggle? The table that Jesus turned over in the temple courts belonged to them, not to Rome.
About the resurrection: everyone is thinking it but no-one dare talk about it in the open. We know that all the authorities are incensed that they cannot find the body of Jesus. And even though it seems ridiculous, we know why. The official position is that somebody has stolen the body. Defending anything else is difficult. The authorities cannot deny that Jesus died; the soldiers witnessed it and Pilate made sure Jesus was dead before releasing the body to Joseph. Even so, the authorities have yet to present a convincing argument; one that accounts for how the perpetrators were able to overcome a detachment of sixteen men, with at least four on guard at any one time, and how they managed to move the stone. The Sanhedrin are suggesting that there has been a conspiracy; that someone paid off the guards to release the body and stay silent – but why would the guards risk being handed down the same punishment? And why would his followers risk their own lives for a corpse? And why, when Joseph had given Jesus such a beautiful grave, would they risk death by disrespecting the authority of Rome and move him?
I saw Cleopas the other day. He asked to see me. He had that wide-eyed look with which I am becoming increasingly familiar. He told me that he had seen Jesus on the road to Emmaus, on the evening of that first day. He was travelling with another disciple. I cannot remember who it was – but that is not the point. The point is that it could have been you or I or anyone else. They were leaving the city at the time, surrounded by other pilgrims. As the military presence lessened, talking became easier. They were both joined by a man who overheard them discussing events. They were in the middle of one of those conversations that was full of complaint, despair and grief which, although it felt good at the time, was heading nowhere. Jesus’ death was the end of all hope that change was possible. Religious self-interest and corruption would continue, with minorities being overlooked and the poor remaining hungry. Life under Roman rule would remain brutal. Cleopas and his friend were talking so intently that they did not look at the man, who asked what they were referring to – as if anyone who had been in Jerusalem would not know! As they put their grief into words, the man simply listened. When they had finished speaking there was silence, and then he declared bluntly that their interpretation of events was ‘Foolish!’ They assumed that they were speaking to a teacher, since he reminded them of what was written in the prophets and that the Messiah would suffer before He was glorified. Despite this harsh rebuke, the man’s words gave Cleopas hope that this Jesus death might not be the end after all. Strangely, Cleopas felt encouraged rather than upset.
As dusk approached, the man made out to carry on, but Cleopas and his friend insisted that they remain together. Then something unusual happened. At supper, rather than Cleopas breaking the bread, the man took the initiative. He took the bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them both. And as he did so, they remembered the last time that they had shared. They caught sight of the wounds in the man’s hands and wrists, and realised who was before them. And then Jesus simply….disappeared.
And so there was Cleopas, sat in front of me with this uncontainable belief that he and his friend had met with the risen Lord. I sat back and marvelled at what God had done, and I tried to contain a rye smile as he struggled to tell me how real all this was to him. Like so many others, he could not find the words. Jesus was no ghost. I told him that he did not need to convince me and that he was not the only one to see Jesus alive. I think Cleopas was relieved that he could share his experience with someone – and that they would believe him rather than think him deluded. Cleopas also shared how he could not understand why, at first, he did not recognise Jesus. Yes, they had been talking intently. Yes, Jesus walked alongside them rather than being in front of them, but this was no excuse. Yes, Jesus appeared different: but not that different. But the main thing preoccupying him was Jesus teaching on the road, and the fact that Jesus became real to him as He broke the bread.
Breaking bread will never be the same for Cleopas – or me – again.
This is the third case study, originally written as a contribution to the URC Eastern Synod Learning Community which met recently in Peterborough. The community provides support to those engaged in pioneer ministry and fresh expressions of church, and includes members of the Methodist Church.
This final case study draws from Quinn & Rohrbaugh’s Competing Values Framework. This is a well-established tool for understanding how effective organisations need to balance stability and control, with flexibility and change. Quinn & Rohrbaugh’s work is grounded in their understanding of four previously established models of organisational culture and has been used to explore and improve the dynamics that are at work across a range of organisations in (among others) education, healthcare, not-for-profit charities, and businesses. In my view, it is particularly useful to the Methodist Church and other denominations as we hold in tension the need to sustain what we have, whilst rethinking how we engage with new people and fulfil God’s mission beyond our church walls. More than this, the Competing Values Framework provides a means by which we can appreciate ‘difference’ in the church, and how, whilst we might have a different set of gifts and a different outlook when we compare ourselves to others, the Church needs pioneers, and pioneers need the Church. Finally, the Competing Values Framework helps practitioners – particularly those who are charged with oversight – appreciate people’s strengths, understand how each individual might contribute to any given from of mission, discern when they will be of greatest use as a project develops, understand how they are likely to become frustrated (and the consequences of this if they withdraw), and recognise how conflict might become a constructive rather than a destructive force.
The simplest way to explain this is to present my simplified adaptation of the framework, and then to outline how this has developed:
The framework is based on two competing tensions in any organisation; a horizontal tension in which pastoring what we have, sustaining our existing work, and remain unified, is held in balance with the need for the local church to look outwards, reflect on good practice, adapt what works elsewhere, and innovate. The second tension, depicted vertically, relates to how power and authority are mediated. Here, the tendency for decision-making to be centred around the core leadership of the church (to maintain stability and control) is balanced with the need for leaders to delegate and invite others to take this initiative (allowing flexibility and discretion). Consequently, it is possible to view the Church as containing four groups of people. These have arbitrary labels of administrator, counsellor, inventor, and marketeer. Alternatively, you could view the church as comprising people who control, collaborate, create, or tend to translate what has worked well elsewhere into their own context. Of course, people are much more complex – but a good number of my own local church stewards have found this model helpful. I am sure we all know of people who, whilst they have a range of gifts, would see themselves as occupying one segment, or perhaps bordering two.
The benefits of the framework are that first, people understand why they perhaps feel that they do not fit in the inherited Church but nevertheless have a vital role. In general, those who are diagonally opposite tend to become frustrated with each other. The counsellor or collaborator who is mindful of safeguarding the ‘clan’ will be nervous about the pace of change that the marketer demands. Administrators (or those whose natural gift is to control and regulate) will be frustrated by the inventor or entrepreneur who thinks up ten ideas before breakfast. Second, the model emphasises how despite our differences, we need each other. Organisations are not so much strengthened by the excess of people they have in one quadrant, as disadvantaged by where they lack expertise. Thus, even though a ‘family’ church might be dominated by those who fit the ‘Counsellor’ (or ‘Clan’) model, involving a wealth of people who are personal, nurturing, participative, loyal, open, and trusting, they will be ultimately disadvantaged if they lack ‘administrators’ who can bring structure, policy, a sense of dependability and permanence, or ‘inventors’ who are entrepreneurial, innovative, and celebrate freedom and uniqueness. Furthermore, the framework leads us to reflect on what can go wrong if one segment dominates; too much bureaucracy can stifle rather than enable development; too much emphasis on the clan leads to sectarianism; too much of a focus on innovation drains resources and can lead to missed opportunities (if they are not followed up properly); too much marketeering leads to a focus on ‘achieving’ rather than ‘becoming’, and being hoodwinked into believing that all we need do to encourage growth is to clone (and be better at) what another ‘successful’ church is doing elsewhere.
Ian Bell, the VentureFX and Pioneer Pathways co-ordinator for the Methodist Church has repeatedly drawn from the insights of Gerald Arbuckle, a Roman Catholic anthropologist who argues that dissent within leadership (in the form of proposing alternatives) is crucial in refounding churches in response to local need. Arbuckle writes:
We require radically different and, as yet, unimagined ways of relating the Good News to the pastoral challenges of the world…we need pastorally creative quantum leaps in our thinking, structures and action. Thus prophetic people, or ‘apostolic quantum leap’ persons are needed within the Church to critique, or dissent from, the pastorally and ineffective pastoral wisdom of the present. Without these people the Church simply cannot fulfil its mission. (Gerald A. Arbuckle, Refounding the Church : Dissent for Leadership (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1993). 22.
In my own research, as I surveyed a range of fresh expressions and looked at how they were overseen, it became clear that local churches (and crucially church councils) comprised more people who would fit the left-hand side of the quadrant than the right, with people who were more inventive or marketeering, being fewer in number. Thus, as I reflect on where the Methodist Church and Church of England stand on pioneering at the moment, I sense a move to rebalance the church so that those with pioneering gifts are included. Fresh Expressions and pioneer ministry, therefore, is not an optional addition; it is vital to the future of the Church.
Thinking theologically about the model
One difficulty with the Competing Values Framework that it (obviously) lacks a scriptural or broader theological base. Attempts to relate the Jesus movement and what follows with this model are fraught with difficulty. Whilst Jesus has a clear aim and models good practice, we know little about the disciples’ giftings, and how they related to each other. Whilst James and John see themselves as superior, Peter can be petulant and over-commit, and Judas is a self-interested thief, we simply do not have enough detail to reflect on how they relate to each other and analyse it against the framework.
Strikingly however, two aspects of Quinn & Rohrbaugh’s work do resonate with the tensions that become apparent as the early Church grows. One crucial issue discussed at the Jerusalem Council (Acts 15) is what Jewish-Christians should expect of Gentiles who want to join them. Essentially, this represents a horizontal tension over the extent to which synagogue leaders should hold to their traditional Jewish roots whilst welcoming newcomers. The Jerusalem Council concludes by stating, “We should not make it difficult for the Gentiles who are turning to God.” Gentile believers were urged to abstain from sexual immorality, food that has been offered to idols, from the meat of strangled animals, and from blood. These might not seem like significant concessions today, but back then they were major issues of religious identity and culture. The Church, of course, has since evolved. There is now a diversity of theological belief and expression. However, I think that we would be wise to reflect the Jerusalem ruling when we think about how we reach out to the ‘Gentiles’ of today – to those with no or very limited prior experience of ‘church’. How do we not make life difficult for them? What is immovable? What is, ultimately, dispensable? Acts 15:5 is a stinging reminder that a small but skilled conservative group of people can have a disproportionally significant impact overall, imposing their expectations on others in ways that have the potential to undermine church growth. (I should acknowledge that whilst I talk in this way, my inclusivity reflex is reacting to the concept of ‘us’ and ‘them’. However, it is right to note that there are those who unless we change, will struggle to make our church their home.)
Aspects of Quinn and Rahrbaugh’s analysis are also helpful when reflecting on the model of leadership that emerges. Whilst Peter takes the lead and together with John becomes the spokesperson for the apostles (most notably before the Sanhedrin), the developing pattern seems to be one of conciliarity, where the apostles confer with each other before pronouncing judgement. This becomes particularly clear in Acts 15, where whilst Peter opens the debate, Paul and Barnabas share, and James concludes in support of Peter’s initial thoughts. Leadership in the early church might be said to exist in a ‘high accountability, light touch’ mode as Philip in Samaria, Paul in Damascus, and Peter in Lydia operate itinerantly but remember their commitment to the whole. This puts the apostles at the higher end of the vertical axis. The opposite of this would be a low accountability, heavy shepherding model of leadership, where leaders have less freedom to adapt their model of mission, and must ask for permission to act.
I am tempted to argue that a low accountability, heavy shepherding model of leadership exists only in Jesus day, as the disciples listen to Him, and replicate his practice. However, I am mindful of how, at times, even Jesus adopts a lighter touch when delegating his authority and sending out the disciples on mission in pairs (Luke 10:1). Also, whilst the apostles seem to operate in high accountability, light touch mode, and speak with an authority which is underpinned by the miraculous, we cannot discern how they relate to and nurture established Jewish leaders, and new gentile believers. I also discern a difference between speaking with authority and challenging certain behaviours on the one hand, but nevertheless allowing local leaders to put this in practice themselves, on the other. The apostle Paul is strong on principle, to the point of using satire to great effect (1 Corinthians 4:8-13; 2 Corinthians 11:16—12:10). However, he writes because he cannot be there in person. He must delegate. On balance, therefore, my conviction is that indeed, ‘high accountability, light touch’ is the dominant mode of leadership in the emerging church.
My own experience has been that the opposite – low accountability, close-control leadership – can do more harm than good. In the worst-case scenario, it places too greater emphasis on a central, charismatic figure, discourages people from dissenting and speaking their mind, and if the leader is not willing to delegate, deskills people. As I write this, I am mindful that there are moments when John Wesley, the founder of Methodism appears to be highly autocratic. He and his brother Charles laid the template for Methodism with its innovative mix of societies, classes, underpinned by preachers who gathered to review the scope of their mission. Whilst he spoke with authority, and closed societies that were underperforming, he was nevertheless forced to delegate. Without this, the movement could not possibly grow.
The important question for Methodist presbyters today – and I would suggest leaders of other denominations irrespective of whether they are ordained – is how we should oversee fresh expressions? What is the role of a minister in a fresh expression? How do we properly authorise and commission fresh expressions’ leaders? What aspects of ‘church’ must we insist take place – not because we want to impose ‘church’, but because we want to enable it from ground zero? How much do we do ourselves (if anything) and how much should we delegate? How much freedom should a fresh expression be given to make its own decisions, and what needs to be referred to the (Jerusalem) church council? How do fresh expressions connect with the wider church and vice-versa?
Thinking about where we stand
Quinn and Rohrbaugh’s work suggests that the best managers are those who can move between the different roles. Rather than seeing their diagonal opposite as their nemesis, they recognise their potential. If you are a pioneer, there is no room to hide in your favoured quadrant and claim that anyone who does not see life as you do is a loon. If you stay among your own kind, you will simply not get anywhere. Sure, life will seem harmonious but deep down you are likely to become frustrated that you are not making any progress. Instead, a good pioneer and a good overseer will have the capacity to mix with people from the other quadrants.
As a Methodist Minister, I am in the unenviable position (which I believe is shared by URC ministers) of being, effectively, both the Chief Executive and Chair of trustees for my local churches. Rarely would this happen in business – the individual who is tasked with overseeing development and encouraging new ideas is the same person who chairs the discussion. Whilst there is provision for ministers to hand over chairing the meeting to someone else, this has not been the inherited tradition. What follows is a sensitive balance as ministers suggest new ideas and allow others to test their viability, responding positively when their idea is reworked or a complete alternative is suggested. Frequently, the discussion seems more natural when someone else other than the minister presents. To put it succinctly, I long for an entrepreneur or pioneer to speak up. The difficulty is that in order to do this they need to be at the same meeting, and getting them there can be a challenge. Some, by nature, feel uncomfortable in a command and control setting. Administration and meetings are simply a turn-off for some people. Even so, the ministerial task is to enable a discussion to take place and to help people who appear to have competing values see the strengths in each other.
Crucially, the antidote to this conflict is to help churches see that whilst they comprise people who are different in personality and giftings, what unites them is a shared common goal: to grow the church. Unfortunately, this may not be the case. As John Wesley points out in his 2nd sermon of 44, ‘The Almost Christian’, some people exhibit a form of godliness whereby outwardly they appear to be in right relationship with Christ, but inwardly they have not experienced the love of God. This results in their lacking the drive to love their neighbour. Conversely, Wesley states that Altogether Christians are born of God, are confident that they are saved, have a faith which ‘purifies the heart’ and seeks to glorify God. Implicitly, Altogether Christians yearn for others to experience the transformative power of Christ. Whilst Wesley’s thinking is a challenge to all of us – which of us can ever say we have arrived? – I am minded that for some people church is more about community fellowship than faith; it is about starting with charitable works rather than starting with the gospel, which invariably leads to charitable works. For some, evangelism is almost a taboo word because we are nervous about forcing our faith on others (whilst this would be bad evangelism it does not excuse us from finding sensitive ways of presenting the gospel), because we do not believe wholeheartedly in the transformative power of the local church and the fact that we have something priceless to offer, or because (I am afraid to say) that despite generations of commitment to our local church, we are more ‘Almost’ than ‘Altogether’ Christians. Perhaps the first task for ministers then, is to ask churches, ‘Why are we here in the first place?’
How we create is what we create
Originally this framework was used to explain what was happening at one of our suburban churches in Peterborough. One concern – which seems to be a cry that often arises from local churches who incorporate fresh expressions is, ‘When are we going to see them come to church on a Sunday?’ I still have to pinch myself at times, not quite believing that after over ten years of advocating for fresh expressions, I am still having to remind people that this need not be the case. For some newcomers, the requirement to attend Church on a Sunday is a hindrance, particularly if their family situation is complex. However, despite the voice of concern or opposition (which we often hear disproportionately because we are sensitive to upsetting others), there are times when we need to assert ourselves, and model what we consider to be an appropriate response. We must – and here it comes – inhabit a different part of the quadrant than we are used to. The VentureFX definition of a pioneer (stated on the Fresh Expressions Website) states:
VentureFX pioneers begin with communities of young adults. As they explore what it means to be disciples of Jesus there, new and relevant form of Christian community are beginning to emerge. They are based on pursuing a radical and authentic lifestyle rooted in the teaching of Jesus, but marked by a re-imagination of what church might need to look like for them. (https://www.freshexpressions.org.uk/pioneerministry)
That has certainly been our experience. As Jeff Degraff (who has published some inspiriting YouTube videos on the Competing Values Framework) puts it, ‘How we create is what we create’. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=45veR-Se-rI)
Southside For All began life as a midweek after-school club. As the wider church celebrated this work, a minority asked, ‘When are we going to see these people come to Church on a Sunday?’ In response, rather than retreating to the left-hand side of the quadrant and trying to engineer this, two of our staff stood in the upper right quadrant, and asked, ‘What does it mean to be church in this place?’ Southside For All originated from the observation that at the end of the sessions, the parents and carers did not want to leave. They valued each other’s fellowship and appreciated contact with the minister, mission enabler and volunteers. As the leaders reflected on the growing sense of community they reasoned that it would be better for them to capitalise on the relationships and networks that were already present, rather than to disrupt this by expecting people to withdraw from this and migrate to worshipping on a Sunday morning. This process has not only been about asserting a new direction as leaders. It has been about giving confidence to others who are pioneering or entrepreneurial but lack the confidence to speak up.
As for what the future holds, one of the advantages of the framework is that it reminds us of how projects need different phases of management. If we want to start a work quickly we need a blend of innovators and marketers, but to gain stability we need people who can administrate and pastor long-term. One hope is that by standing in the red quadrant, our leaders will encourage others of like-mind to step forward who can continue to move the project forward as the newly emerging church begins to question how it develops further. Meanwhile, we hope that having grown in confidence, those who volunteer (and have links with the Sunday morning congregation) will discover their role in providing stability through planning, and creating a sense of family. I remember how when the magician Paul Daniels used to finish his act, he used to say, ‘And that’s magic.’ I think that we as mission practitioners, need to do much the same in reminding people just how far they have travelled; what our initial thoughts and feelings were; how God overcame them; where we are now; where we think we might be headed in the future; and say, ‘And that’s mission!’ Our end goal is to try and ensure that the next time we engage in something new, we are more open to what God can do, and harbour less anxiety than we did the first-time round.
This edition includes details of Vice-President’s Visit and news of the Hope Revolution Youth Event held at Kingsgate; the Northampton Methodist District Youth Event (Acts 29) held at Towcester; our successes in working in partnership with the Winter Night Shelter; our desire to link with CROPS to encourage prayer and mentoring of young people through our churches; update on progress in starting a Food Bank in Oundle; and some wonderful poems/prayers written by Sandra Hughes, and Sue Moore. Also included; job advert for Heart for the Hampton’s East Project, a sprinkling of events in Holy Week, info on a sponsored bike ride being undertaken by two members of Dogsthorpe Methodist Church, and a pledge form for those wishing to give towards our ongoing work in Welland. Thanks to all contributors.
Caramac: None, but I must confess that owing to bad eating habits and a lack of cycling, I have put weight on. I have discovered waistcoats are an effective means of holding in the padding, leading some people to suggest I have lost weight. Am dieting now though. Can eat as many Muller Light yoghurts as I like. Found out the reason – there is virtually nothing to them! Alcohol consumption near nil – apart from Champagne after graduation. Illness: battled the lurgy with everyone else post-Christmas. Enjoying the days getting longer now.
The Vice-President of Conference visited the other week. She came to look at some of the work we are doing in response to poverty and social justice issues. It was an informal daytime visit. As I suspect is the norm with these things, the day she was free was the day where we had nothing happening in the circuit that she could visit – if we were to be sensitive to the feelings of those who we serve. In the end, this worked in our favour. Rachel will have been escorted around countless Foodbank distribution hubs and community centres, so we had to think hard about what aspects of our work would give her a glimpse of something that was different. On reflection, we began to see that some of our most valuable and impactful work is done in partnership. However, how things have come about, who takes the lead in different areas, how it all fits together, and who does what, is unique. The Winter Night Shelter is a good example, and the opportunity to look back, explore how things started and compare this with where we are now, was deeply moving. We ended up transporting Rachel across four locations; Westgate New Church, where representatives of the staff and CLT gathered for prayer, and Lesley shared something of the specific challenges of city-centre ministry. We then moved on to the Charteris Centre in Welland, joining with Deacon John and other community leaders to talk about how we had been able to support the needy. Finally, we visited Dogsthorpe Methodist Church where Sue and Arnie Hensby were gathered with representatives from each of our three churches who are involved in Night Shelter. What struck me was the extent and depth in which we were able to talk about the realities and practical challenges of our work; about how some of our community leaders and politicians have questioned the need for Foodbanks and refused to associate with them (to do so is to accept that there is a problem and that one has a responsibility to try and alleviate it); about the fact that homelessness is such an acute issue in Peterborough – and our understanding of why this is; about how some of the measures taken by the council (such as housing families in a Travelodge) are helpful in one sense and ‘tick a box’, but do not solve the wider issues of how people cook and clean for themselves; about how poorer communities often lack the resources and expertise to qualify or apply for grant funding.
At the same time, I was mindful that whilst our circuit could offer significant insights, we also needed to hear from Rachel. Rachel shared a great deal in conversation. However, what I remember most is how we felt seen, valued and affirmed through her listening, and how she sought to understand the challenges that we face by trying to view ministry from our perspective. I also felt proud of the team here in Peterborough. As they described the nature of their work, in turn, I saw a real unity in calling and purpose, despite our differences in personality, giftings, and how our work is focused.
Sometimes we think that a President of Vice-President of Conference as being loaded with superhero executive power. Certainly, they have the capacity to hear what is happening in one context and ask probing questions in another. If a President or Vice-President asks ‘Are you altogether sure about this or that?’ you would be wise to reflect seriously! Even so, their main function is a representative one. They represent the wider church to the local, and vice-versa. Perhaps then, there is a superhero power at work, but it is brought about by being open, attentive and listening to others, where the primary task is to affirm and to understand why people feel the way that they do. I think that the South Africans have a word for what is happening here – ‘Ubuntu’. It is a philosophy whereby ‘a person is a person through other people’. It relies on us recognising that despite the differences that we may have with each other, we often share the same core values and aspirations. I am not convinced that as disciples, we always live like this. There is a dangerous tendency that we become self-protecting and isolationist, and that our churches become like enclaves. Conflict can all-to-easily be defined by ‘us’ versus ‘them’. Connexionalism is a powerful antidote to this. We are defined not simply by what we believe, but by what the whole Church believes. We are not defined simply by our own experiences, but the experiences of others. Differences enrich us, rather than divide us. We live life whilst being attentive not simply to our own perspective, but that of others. That way, when we struggle, we find that we are supported by friends, rather than having no one to turn to because we have made enemies. How great it is to be part of a Church and to know that as a family here in Peterborough we have friends who live at the other end of the country, who will reach out at a moment’s notice, to help in any way they can. How great that it is to be part of something that is bigger. How great is it to pray for others, and know that people are praying for us. How great it is to know that we can learn from each other, and that we do not have to do all this stuff feeling that we are alone in the world.
One of the things that I hope to be able to offer people is some simple tools for tackling practical issues as we go about our daily ministry. (My background is in Practical Theology). In my view, all theology should be practical, in the sense that it has to be of practical use in forming us as disciples. Whilst I do not wish to deny the importance of abstract intellectual reflection, I am not convinced that questioning how many angels can dance on the head of a needle is altogether helpful whilst, in our local churches, there is some of other dispute going on between the space that the toddler group is taking up, a power struggle between rival groups who want use of the kitchen, or a need for urgent conversation about how responsibilities are shared in the life of the Church and what its mission focus should be. My point is that Practical Theology responds to these kinds of challenging practical situations. There is no question that our response needs to be grounded in rigorous academic reflection. However, my experience has been that we often need to find simple ways of unpacking what are often complex issues. What is more, they need to begin as we go about our everyday ministry. We need tools that work for us as we think about how a meeting went when driving home in the car; or popping out to the supermarket for a pint of milk. This is the reality: we reflect on the go, often exploring deeper as we set aside time for supervision or go on retreat.
Richard Osmer in his Practical Theology, An Introduction (Eerdmans, 2008) offers a simple framework that I have adapted in my own ministry. Osmer writes with congregational leaders in mind, and suggests that practitioners would benefit from asking four questions:
What is going on? (The descriptive-empirical task)
Why is it going on? (The interpretative task)
What ought to be going on? (The normative task)
How might we respond? (The pragmatic task)
Whilst I find these categories helpful, I find that I naturally reflect on them in a slightly different order; I first ask, ‘What just happened?’ and cannot help myself turn immediately to, ‘What should have happened’, before asking the ‘Why?’ question:
Osmer’s method is a gift in the way that it is simple to remember and provides a framework where more and more depth can be added. Crucially, it forces us from being in a place of discontent to questioning how we are going to respond. I must confess that all-to-often I have met Individuals and groups in the life of the Church (pioneers included) who have become a talking shop for everything that is wrong in the Church, but do not seem able to find a way through this and move on. This is just as sobering for you as a pioneer, as it is for me, as a superintendent. For me, this means that if the processes of the Church are unhelpful for pioneers, or are inhibiting mission, I have a responsibility to find a way of enabling change to happen. That is my job!
Reflecting on local church closure in general
I have not been a minister for that long – about fifteen years, but in that time, I have become concerned at the ease at which Methodist Churches have closed. Two closed on my patch in my first appointment; one in my second. When I began here in Peterborough I inherited the remnant of two closed churches. I remember that when my first church closed, at Branston Booths in Lincolnshire, we worked incredibly hard to try and work with the community to find a way forward; knocking door to door; providing children’s activities on a Sunday Afternoon; focusing on Special Sunday services; but alas the Church closed. On the one hand, many people who live in local communities feel a sense of connection with their church. When the possible of closure is muted, there is, invariably, a degree of protest. However, generating the kind of interest that will sustain future presence can be difficult.
Osmer’s framework is useful here. ‘What is going on?’ is clear – and it is not ideal. To add a further layer of challenge, whilst the Methodist Church states clearly that the closure of any local church does not signal the withdrawal of the wider Methodist Church, this is how many local people take it; however illogical this may seem. There is an issue that deserves proper reflection here. When I first entered the ministry, I was of the mindset that Methodism was burdened by a high proportion of small rural churches that drew a disproportional level of resource from larger churches. An element of this thinking remains today – and I witnessed it whilst attending one of two annual superintendent’s conferences. I suspect that one concern is that planning preachers across multiple churches is difficult. Another might be that small churches could be holding comparatively large reserves, although this is counteracted by the fact that under charity law, churches must have an obvious reason for retaining excess finance. Even so, I still continue to be surprised by the ability of smaller churches to have a disproportionately high impact in their local communities.
‘What ought to be happening?’ is that even though a church might struggle to offer regular worship, it can still be a place of Christian presence. As I reflected on the location and space that was offered by some of our churches, it seemed incongruous to accept that because the worshipping congregation had dwindled, closure was the only option. Whilst the church would always need to cover its running costs and maintain its property, surely, at least in some cases, there would be a way of retaining the building as a retreat centre, or meeting venue, whilst opening the premises for community use. Could the church partner with any other agencies, who could take out a long-term lease on part of the building? So long as income from the rental of a church contributes towards fulfilling the purposes of the Methodist Church, this would seem justified.
Why is this happening? Churches find themselves in difficulty for three several reasons, and they often occur in combination. First, the roof falls in (or the church faces some or other property concern), and they lack the finance, or the resourcefulness to repair it. I do not mean this to sound detrimental. Raising large sums of money requires a confidence and boldness that often comes with experience. Grant applications require time, effort, and the conviction that what we have is worth saving, in the sense that people need to have the faith that renewal is indeed possible. Second, as the membership of the Church becomes frailer, more and more people are unable to attend unless others can transport them – and of course, when this cannot happen, attendance dwindles. Also, as the people dwindle in number the responsibility that they hold, and feel, exhausts them. I know of one instance when a superintendent insisted that a church close because they could see that all of the responsibility (and burden) was shifting on to one (younger) person. Third, the Church does not have enough members; churches can exist until they have less than six members – and which point the wider circuit is obliged to assist by sending leaders to increase church council membership. If, after a period of two years, the situation remains the same, the circuit can insist that they become a class of another church. Herein, the trusteeship for the building rests with the larger church.
This is the theory. However, my research suggests however that this intervention by the circuit to support struggling churches by importing leaders was being implemented either poorly, or not at all. Instead, the narrative was one of closing early rather than seeing the process through and handing the building over to the circuit who would invariably sell. Curiously, this is not always in the best interests of the circuit, because in doing so, a portion of the sale proceeds goes towards the wider Church. In my view, this happens because conversations about the future of the Church happen far too late in the day, at the point at which people feel exhausted, overwhelmed, and cannot see any other option. They are also forced by a narrow understanding of Church – one that has not been broadened by an understanding of Fresh Expressions or pioneer ministry. Although the concept of Fresh Expressions have been around for over a decade, in reality, many of our faithful Church attendees have only ever lived with one form of church, and so undoing this – helping people to see that ‘church’ need not meet on a Sunday, and can exist in a different form, is a serious challenge. Despite all our efforts here in Peterborough, we still encounter the question, ‘When are we going to see people [who attend fresh expressions] come to Church on a Sunday?’
‘What are you going to do about it?’
Eighteen months ago, one of our churches was facing the prospect of closure. If what happened then had happened ten years ago, I suspect that the church would have closed. Crucially, two key leaders (who lived in the village) had both served for twenty-five years. They had given their all and throughout this period had taken on just about every role in the life of the church, serving as Church secretary, treasurer, property steward….you name it, they did it. (I note here the difference between the ideal of Methodism’s rule that no-one should serve in the same capacity for six years, and how this is often unworkable for small chapels). Both signalled to Gareth, their minister that they could no longer continue. They did so with some regret, feeling that they had no other option, and mindful that in their absence the church would struggle to find people to fill key roles, and to function. The Sunday congregation had dwindled from twelve to around six people. Sadly, some had died. Others had moved into residential care. Thus, the model of worship that we were operating was not sustainable. My role was to support Gareth and bring in other leaders from across the circuit, as we discerned the way forward.
I remember that meeting well. I think that the difference instance was that although we were prepared to talk about the subject of closure, we were reluctant to allow this to happen. This would have been easy; it would have been a case of letting nature take its course, and gently giving its members the option of either filling their offices – which they could not do – or accepting the inevitable. However, in our view, the church was ideally placed in the community and offered a set of premises that were not available elsewhere. We recognised that there was potential for the church to remain a focal point in the village and that there was a need for re-engagement. In response, the local church handed trusteeship of its building back over to the circuit (who reassumed, therefore, responsibility for property and finance). The circuit supported Gareth and Helen as they sought to explore re-engaging with the local community. To allow for this change of emphasis, we reduced Sunday worship services down to twice a month, with one service being a holy communion, and the other being a cafe-style worship service (which had previously been warmly received). They are, in effect, a ‘class’ of the circuit, rather than another local Methodist Church.
We are now at the point where – from nothing – we have developed several activities. Messy Play started in July 2014 and since then has taken place during school holidays. It is Bible based, incorporates crafts around a theme, a story time (often making use of video resources), singing, prayer, and games. Numbers average twenty-five children and twelve adults plus helpers. We estimate that 80-90% of those who attend have no previous experience of Church. A Facebook page (which went live in October 2016) has been great for keeping in touch and notifying people of events. Sewing Bees began two years ago – a quilting group which meets monthly now attracts two people from the existing congregation, ten people from across our other churches and two others from the village. (The original idea was proposed by one of our local preachers). Parents and Carers coffee stop started at the end of 2016. It is held twice a month but is moving to weekly from May. The drop-in comprises six to seven adults, plus a similar number of toddlers. Two of the adults have links with the Church of England, but the remainder, again, have non-church backgrounds. In addition, the church hosts Quiet Mornings three times a year.
It would be tempting to focus on the mechanics of how Helen and Gareth went about re-engaging with the local community – and perhaps this is for another time. However, I believe that the most important move, considering Fresh Expressions, was to take seriously the question of how we could challenge the narrative of closure by allowing a dwindling congregation to remain, whilst exploring other opportunities. To suggest that we have arrived would be dishonest. Whilst we are forming Christian community, and Messy Play is a fresh expression, there remains a degree of separation between the Sunday morning congregation, and those who attend these different events. However, whilst the offering from the Sunday Worship has diminished (and might be a cause for concern), this has been offset by income through lettings. The transfer of trusteeship from the church to the circuit has been helpful, but it places responsibility on others (who may be equally pressured) to ‘hold’ the church for a period. Despite this, although the road ahead might be long, this ‘church’ is currently operating as a hub of mission, where Christian faith and Christian values are being shared. Our intention is to continue to invest in the relationships that we have developed, to expand our Christian worship to enable faith-commitment, to encourage Methodist membership as and when the time is right. Crucially, this is what would be required to form a new church, but in the meantime, we simply thank God for his blessing.
