My neighborhood is what planners would call ‘older ring suburbs.’ We are close to the city limits (five miles), we have mixed-design housing, and there are actually large, mature trees. While our house is probably the oldest and most modest in the neighborhood, you can be sure that the majority of our neighbors have granite counter-tops in their kitchens, unlike our c. 1940 pre-Formica. One close neighbor tore down a 1960-ish two-story colonial and built a mini-mansion on top of it, well beyond the original footprint. They have an uncharacteristically large yard in which their children seldom play and the hired help grooms. This house appears to meet the needs of their ego, but I am unconvinced it is truly necessary for their family. Not surprisingly, this same family needs two trash toters every week, unlike the one everyone else is allotted.
This neighborhood is in a school district where the public school is considered good. I’m not sure if that perception refers to the quality of the education, the absence of violence, or the real estate. The highly-paid administrators decided that the condition of the local high school was not becoming of their ego and launched a major expansion. (The vote for this increase in property taxes took place during an off-peak primary when many retirees were wintering in Florida.) A friend of mine who is a PhD went to one of the hearings and asked how new buildings would impact the student-teacher ratio and how the property enhancements would improve education. There was no answer. Before the final landscaping was completed, the same school claimed budget distress and started laying-off teachers. Seriously, the grass had not grown next to the newly expanded parking lot when teachers lost their jobs, you know, the people who really do impact the quality of education.
With my local school and with churches, I would question how organizational mission and core activities correspond to the
real estate. I have been taking a look at churches and places of weekly worship. I first announced this research in a previous blog, “The Dying Church,” last March.
According to ChurchPick.com there are about 15 churches or synagogues within two miles of our home. I have been collecting data and taking notes on these visits. (I haven’t been to mosques or synagogues yet, but I will begin those visits this fall.) On my way to visiting 30 churches in 50 weeks, I am about halfway. I have been to Baptist, Episcopalian, Lutheran, Methodist, Presbyterian, and Quaker services. I have nearly finished my Baptist visits which included a small church in a suburban town, a mega-church in the city, a large suburban church (near a strip mall, but not a neighborhood), and an urban, family congregation.
I am collecting measurable specifics in my data, and I am making observations whether these houses of worship are welcoming and/or friendly. I define this by: 1) Friendly = was I greeted by anyone other than the usher (it’s their job); 2) Welcoming = was I invited to return?
Most often I go alone, but sometimes my spouse joins. Now he makes friends wherever he goes, so his presence tends to skew my data slightly. Still, with or without him, I have been shocked to see how few churches invite me back. Also, my experience has been that the larger churches didn’t have anyone greet me, beyond an usher handing out programs. Every place I visited had some ritual toward visitors as part of their service, and many had a structured greeting of each other in the service. Well, that doesn’t count folks. If I were sincerely church shopping and not one person talked to me except at the required time, I would not return. Period. Once and done.
If I expand my ChurchPick.com search to five miles, I have more than 50 possibilities. Naturally, folks would narrow their selection to the brand name of their liking, Methodist, Roman Catholic, etc. but there are still there are a lot of choices. If you just need a brand name and a place to go, it’s a buyer’s market. (I once told someone I didn’t like the town in which I worked because there were too many churches and not enough bars, which inevitably means long on judgment and short on fun.)
The former Episcopal bishop in Philadelphia said it takes 200 people for most churches to be financially self-supporting, but the average attendance of churches is under 100. This simple math takes me back to real estate. One church I visited has capacity of 200 and has an average attendance of 60. There is another church I visited a couple years ago that has dealt with their declining participation by renting to the Christian Scientists on Saturday, the Korean Presbyterians early Sunday morning, then enjoying their own service late Sunday morning, with a part-time priest who participates little in the life of the church during the week and whom they share with another parish. Kudos for welcoming the Koreans and Christian Scientists, but why do you continue to strap that real estate to your back?
All this finally takes me to Happy Hour. My spouse and I have a favorite dive bar where you can get a half-pitcher of Yuengling Lager (America’s oldest brewery and a nice beer, thank you) for about $4, and it’s usually more than half-full. We can either socialize, or sit in a booth and mind our own business. It is a familiar and comforting setting. Whether we go there with old friends or by ourselves and we feel welcome. We are always greeted. We are always invited back.
I have spent time with more than one seasoned member of the clergy who has reminded church committees that church is not entertainment. Well, in its ideal state, perhaps not. I remain unconvinced that church is different from Happy Hour for most people, if they are painfully honest with themselves. It is an affordable place to go where they expect to meet like-minded people.
Whether or not church is more than a Happy Hour experience, what kind of worship space do you really need? How much of the group’s collective ego is attached to the real estate? Is the building an expression of the church you wish you were? In the absence of a building, how would you define church? What I am finding in my visits as a barometer of church vitality is what John Dilulio (former faith czar for two presidents in two different parties) calls “non-member services.” What are you doing for people other than yourselves?
Whether the Christians like it or not (and lots don’t) this is a pluralistic society. Religious diversity is not just about denominations, but other religions. When I think about real estate and religion, I have a dream of one building housing three Abrahamic religions (to start). The Muslims can pray on Friday, the Jews can pray on Saturday and the Christians can pray on Sunday. They can each have shared worship space and shared community space. During the week their young people can use the community space for after-school programs where interfaith community is not just talked about, but lived. The real estate becomes the metaphor for what each of them could tell you their God expects from them. And perhaps they could work together to tackle social justice, because there is no end to the possibilities for service there
Let go of the building and redefine what weekly worship and church mean to you. Find a way to distinguish yourself from Happy Hour. By the way, Happy Hour is crowded – church, not so much. – J. B. Good
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