Apr 30, 2009

Covenant Stories: Downward Spiral

When a church begins to lose members it can begin a downward spiral that feeds on itself, much like a falling economy. Often there is some kind of traumatic event that wounds the community - a disillusioning scandal, a large exodus of people because of some grievance, or a neighborhood that transitions faster than the church can adapt. The church’s income drops as people leave, and soon there isn’t enough money or volunteer leaders to sustain their programs. The church scales back its activities and sometimes lays off staff. People begin to leave for larger churches that they think have more to offer their children. This leads to more cutbacks and layoffs. Before you know it, the church is in a serious crisis.

In our case, the sudden departure of almost half the church meant the loss of a dream. We purchased land with the idea that we were close to constructing a church building. It was fun being the only Baptist church in the world meeting in a bar, but we were ready for our own home. When so many people left, it became clear that it would be a long time before we had our own building. This was disappointing for many. More left. Some stayed because of their commitment to the community, but in truth they were tired and out of energy. They missed Kenny and their friends who had left. And the dream of a building faded more with every family that went away. They stayed as long as they could, but one-by-one they came to me and told me the bad news. As much as they hated to, they just weren’t getting what they needed. They felt that they must leave for the good of their families. It seemed like every time a new family found our church, one of the old families would leave. And every time it happened the grief was tremendous for me. I loved these people. Now I wouldn’t be seeing them on Sundays. We would no longer celebrate Advent together or Easter. These were very painful years for Jeanene and I. Painful and frightening. If the church fell apart I would feel like a failure. And I would be out of a job.

It was especially difficult because those leaving truly were doing so for the good of their families. They felt that their children weren’t going to remain emotionally and spiritually connected to the church without larger Sunday school classes, programs and events. There didn’t seem to be any right answers. Who can quarrel with a family’s desire to be a part of a church that is meaningful to them?

Several moments stand out in my memory as being particularly hard for me. The first was when the Cowdens left. George and Shirley were a part of the group that conceived of Covenant and formed the community. George was an elder, and Shirley was a deacon. I remember the day I saw an empty look on George’s face at an elders’ meeting. He was done. He had no more energy. He was tired of worrying about the church and feeling responsible for keeping it going. I felt no resentment then, nor do I now. The Cowdens needed to move on. I understood, but it was heartbreaking.

Another was when I realized that my daughter was now the only child left in her Sunday School class. There were fewer and fewer kids her age at Covenant, but as long as Reiley’s best friend Katy was still there she seemed okay. But then Katy’s family left to go to a large church downtown.

One Sunday there were only 13 people in attendance at the Duckblind Lounge. I preached and led music that Sunday, awkwardly moving my arms up and down to the beat of the hymns as I had seen music ministers do. We had no piano player that Sunday either, so it was just 13 shaky voices that seemed to get lost in the emptiness of the room. That was definitely a low point for me.

But sometimes there is a moment of grace in hard times.

That graceful moment came when I came around a corner and saw Reiley with Ben Chappell, one of the kindest and most committed Christians I have ever known. Having only Reiley in his Sunday School class, Ben was sitting next to her on a bench. His weathered Bible was open and laid across their laps. He was reading to her from the scriptures and talking with her about what they read there. Their heads were inclined toward each other and they seemed lost in their own world.

That’s when I saw the truth. There wasn’t a child in any church in the world who was having a better experience than my child on that Sunday morning. She had a one-on-one lesson with Ben that day. Just the two of them. Ben, who loved the Bible and loved questions about the Bible. Ben, who was gentle and smart and who would listen to her doubts and questions with care and understanding. Ben, who would celebrate her earliest steps of faith. I quietly backed away and left the two of them alone.

I don’t think I have ever looked back. I’ve never since let myself be seduced by numbers or money or power or any other measuring stick of our culture. I saw then that Covenant was not easy, but it was good. Even if our church was unable to continue, I knew that we had experienced real love and community. And whatever else happened, my daughter was loved and known by Ben.

Really, what more could you ask for?

Gordon Atkinson

Ben and the my daughters (the 3 sisters) at the church a few years ago. They have all been in his Sunday school class now. He teaches 4th - 6th grades.

Ben and Reiley (now 20) at a Habitat for Humanity build in 2008.

Ben and I at his daughter Jenny's wedding, which I officiated with great joy. Jenny was in 8th grade when they came to Covenant Baptist Church. We've been in community together for 19 years now.

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The Chappells and Atkinsons are the only two families left at Covenant from the early days.

American churchgoers love programs. The more the better, especially for children. Smaller churches can offer a deeper sense of community, but that is not valued as much in our culture. Many good and well-meaning churches simply cannot compete with large churches that have numerous professional ministers and a vast array of programs and activities. Some become dysfunctional and focused on themselves as their numbers shrink and anxieties rise. For many it is simply their time to die. There may have been a day when they met real needs in the world, but that day has passed. They disappear, leaving behind empty buildings that are taken by younger churches or are converted into retail space..