Meanderings of a church planter

In the world of church planting, there are basically two categories of church planting pastors: (1) those who are serving full-time as church planters, usually enabled through partnerships that include generous funding from "mother churches" or from denominational sources; and (2) those who are bi-vocational church planters -- part-time pastor of a new church start and part-time in some other profession, with the salary from the second job most often providing the bulk of financial support for the pastor and his/her family.

There are pros and cons to each approach. Certainly those who serve full-time are able to devote more time and effort to the ministry, and time and effort are not to be overlooked or underestimated when taking on a project as demanding and prone to failure as church planting. (Something like 80% of all church plants fail.) There's something to be said for singleness of focus, and having the time to devote to the ministry -- particularly the relational aspects of church planting -- is a big advantage, assuming the church planter has the right combination of gifts, and her/his gifts are the right match for the particular context. When a partnership with a mother church or a denominational church planting initiative is enabling full-time ministry, generally funding starts at 100% the first year and drops off sharply each year, until by the third or fourth year, the project should be self-sufficient. Clearly articulated benchmarks are generally established to ensure that the project is making the progress it needs to be successful, and missing the benchmarks calls for corrections.

On the flip side, those who advocate for bi-vocational church planting suggest -- probably with merit -- that there's a real advantage to keeping one foot in "the world": having a day job that pays the bills and also allows the church planter to build relationships in non-churchy settings, to keep a pulse on the secular culture, and to break free from the church bubble that often distorts the church planter's sense of reality. Additionally, the financial resources required to enable a new church start are significantly reduced when the pastor is bi-vocational. Ultimately, regardless of what the appointment listing or the paycheck might suggest, I think church planting is always full-time. It is a vocation.

Last week, Sara and I met with our Director of Congregational Development, one of the people who was instrumental in our being appointed to Portland to begin this ministry. One of the things he said was, "We won't be doing many church planting projects like yours in New England -- most church planters will be bi-vocational."

Which got me thinking...

Are we full-time church planters, or are we bi-vocational? We're serving a new church start, and we're excited about this ministry as we develop New Light, a brand new United Methodist community of faith here in Portland. But we're also serving the former Chestnut Street United Methodist Church, this small remnant congregation that sold their historic facility 2 1/2 years ago. Together we're a two-person pastoral team serving (on paper) one full-time appointment and realistically working pretty much the equivalent of two full-time jobs. There are many times when it feels like one unified project with different pieces -- Chestnut/ New Light, one ministry, one budget, one project. Much of the time, though, it's pretty clear that we've got two very big things going on, not unlike a two-point charge.

When we came to Portland, we sort of imagined Chestnut might be a kind of hospice ministry: we'd lead worship, visit the folks when they were in the hospital, and love them until they died or the church evaporated. That hasn't been the case at all. To the contrary, what we found was a committed, enthusiastic group of people who were tired of playing church, tired of trying to maintain a museum, tired of spinning their wheels, and ready to focus on mission and ministry. This is a true revitalization project, so we've been discerning and articulating a new vision, equipping folks, encouraging them, and helping them to focus on something new. Together we set some ambitious goals, and we're well on our way to achieving them. The future is filled with hope.

But to say the least, that has made it impossible to focus all of our best time and energy on the new church start. I don't say that with regret, either, because both parts of this ministry are exciting, worthwhile, and fruitful. We're certainly giving New Light all that we have, and the new ministry is bearing fruit. But let's be clear: we are not full-time church planters.

Nor are we bi-vocational. It's one vocation that we're pursuing: one vocation with many pieces. Ministry is always like that, I think. And it's all good.

Makes me wonder about the conclusion our Director of Congregational Development drew, though: "We won't be doing many church planting projects like yours in New England -- most church planters will be bi-vocational." I have nothing against bi-vocational church planters. I thank God for them, and I pray for them because that must be a huge challenge. But it seems to me there are lots and lots of older, established churches with declining and aging congregations that are going to be forced to make the agonizing decision Chestnut United Methodist Church made almost three years ago. I suspect before the snow begins to melt next spring, more than one Church Council agenda is going to include some early discussions (no doubt with fear and trembling and no small amount of conflict) about selling those enormous, historic churches that right now are soaking up precious ministry resources -- those sanctuaries that are nearly empty on Sunday mornings -- those facilities poorly maintained by struggling congregations who will not have the financial resources to pay this upcoming winter's heating bills. Could it be that one strategy might be to pair those remnant congregations with energetic pastors who have been identified with gifts and passion for church planting, so that new communities of faith begin to emerge in partnership with established congregations on the downward slope of the church life cycle curve? I have no illusion that it's a guaranteed success, but we're giving it our best shot here in Portland, and it seems like it might have potential in other places, too.

God, bless and sustain and equip and encourage church planters everywhere -- those who serve full-time and those who are bi-vocational -- that new communities of faith being formed right now might be agents of transformation in the lives of people who never thought church could be relevant to their lives. Bless those pastors taking on the hard work of revitalization, too, that their efforts might bear fruit and their congregations might catch a fresh wave of your Holy Spirit and be re-energized for ministry. And bless faithful laypersons who serve in congregations new and old, that they might be so filled with your love and so transformed by your grace that their energy and passion are contagious. Use your church, broken vessel that it is, for the work of your Kingdom. This is my prayer, in Jesus' name. Amen.

Calm me down...

Prayer for an Average Sunday

~ Kenneth G. Phifer

Eternal God, look now upon me as I wait,

stilled for a time,

subdued and quiet.

You know that it is hard for me to wait.

It is hard for me to be still.

I rush from one thing to another,

churning up my life

into hectic waves of accomplishment.

When night falls, I confess I feel a bit guilty

if I have done nothing except be myself.

I even come to prayer with the feeling

that it is apart from life,

that when it is over I had best do something.

Even in church I want to sing a hymn

or take up an offering.

And then when church is over,

I plunge back into my world where the action is.

O Lord, do I have it wrong,

twisted around?

Are there more occasions than I realize

when I would be a better person

if I didn't do anything but just stand there?

Do I fail to hear the real needs

of loved ones, friends, and neighbors,

because I am too busy figuring out

what next to do for them,

or maybe to them?

Am I so absorbed in running the world

that I am not aware of you

and of the things you have to say to me?

Calm me down, I pray.

Calm me down

to the place where I can remember

how many times you have managed to keep me going

when I thought I could not make it.

Calm me down

so that I can recall times of steadiness and fear

when a courage was infused in me

that enabled me to hold on.

Calm me down

so that I can accept my limitations without panic

and in the knowledge that I cannot do everything.

In many ways I do not do anything.

In some ways I do the wrong things.

In the silence before the mystery and the meaning,

I stand waiting,

still,

quieted by wonder.

For life is filled with mystery, meaning, and wonder.

The mystery of being itself.

The meaning that keeps breaking through to me,

meaning encompassed in words

like faith, hope, and love.

And I wonder why when I pray, I believe,

and why when I believe, I pray.

May I be assured that what I do matters

and what I say counts,

because you are in me and for me.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

-- Kenneth G. Phifer, A Book of Uncommon Prayer

Nashville: The Upper Room, 1981

(a book given to me by my church family at Searsport (Maine) United Methodist Church when I graduated from high school ~ it's inscribed June 5, 1988 ~ that I've carried with me all these years)

Good News

I consider myself to be an evangelical.

I've committed my life to following in the way of Jesus. I believe strongly in the hope that is in Christ, and I have a passion for sharing that hope -- that Good News, the evangelion -- with others.

But my understanding of the Good News is not a narrow one, and it doesn't lead me to the political views to which many who call themselves evangelicals cling so tightly. In fact, the more deeply I grow in my faith, the more closely I walk with Christ, the more I'm led not to a conservative worldview, but rather, much of the time, to a progressive one. For me, pursuing peace instead of war, seeking economic justice for those who live in poverty, widening the circle of God's grace, opening the doors of the church to the one who is gay or lesbian, caring for God's Creation, speaking out against the death penalty... all these are as much a part of living a faithful life -- a life that has been transformed by the Good News of Jesus Christ -- as faithfulness to spiritual practices, or worship, or holiness in my actions.

I guess that makes me a progressive evangelical, if there is such a thing.

Maybe all that is why I took such an interest in this fascinating article from the issue of Newsweek that arrived today, about how Sarah Palin's candicacy for the Vice-Presidency is calling attention to the tensions between the "old evangelicals" and the "new evangelicals"...

I despise the hatefulness, the mud-slinging, the accusations, the spread of falsehoods, the sarcasm, the ugliness of political campaigns. And yet I care deeply about a broken world and pray for peace, for justice, for compassion, for leadership that is committed to the work of God's Kingdom. And that calls me to action in a political arena.

There are no easy answers. No easy answers. No easy answers. And so I cling to the Good News that God is with us in the ugliness.

God, help us.

Ready for a Wellness Exam?

This week I went to my new primary care physician for a wellness exam, also known as a physical. It was my first time meeting this new doctor, so of course there were lots of questions about family history, about my allergies and asthma, about diet and exercise, and all the rest. The nurse took my blood pressure, height, and weight and asked me about the medications I take. The doctor listened to my lungs, looked at my eyes and ears and throat, poked and prodded here and there... refilled some prescriptions for asthma medications... and made a referral to an allergist. I came away feeling good that I'm being proactive about my health and good about establishing a relationship with a doctor who will provide care should I be sick in the future.

I wonder... do we give our spiritual health the same weight of importance? Are we as intentional about assessing our own spiritual health from time to time? What would a spiritual wellness exam look like?

I can imagine questions like these...

• How is your prayer life?
• What other spiritual practices nurture your faith?
• What habits, practices, or patterns stand between you and a deeper faith in God?
• Who are your spiritual mentors, role models, or companions in Christ?
• What have you been reading from Scripture, and what new insights have led you deeper in faith?
• How have you used the gifts God has given you in service to God and God's people?
• How are you remaining faithful to the practice of worship?
• How have you engaged in works of compassion and mercy, helping people in need?
• How has your faith led you to works of justice?
• When and how have you shared your faith with others?
• How have you encouraged others in their own walk of faith?
• How have you shown Christian hospitality to those whom God sends your way?
• What are you doing to grow deeper in your practice of Christian stewardship and generosity?
• When have you felt closest to God? most distant from God?
• What "prescriptions" do you need to fill (or fulfill or refill) to treat symptoms of spiritual dis-ease?

What questions would you add to the list? Are you willing to undertake a spiritual wellness exam?