The Shoes That Came With the Little Pump

Bad news.  I've still been reading Jerry Maguire's Mission Statement.  After the part that made me think about how we've maybe lost track of why we are the Church, he talks a lot about a guy named Dickey Fox. Dickey's story is inspiring in that he didn't allow his success in the world of sports agency to cloud his vision of what was really important: personal relationships.  If our "why" is to reveal God's unconditional love to the world, the "what" is personal relationships.

The Things We Think and Do Not Say: 

Or do we just want to be the guy who sold the guy who sold shoes that came with the little pump?

In the Bible, Jesus doesn't get angry all that often, but when he did, it was because people had taken to profiting in the Temple.  They made...it.....a.......business.  I sometimes wonder if we have done the same. Naturally, we aren't peddling changing money to help people purchase animals for sacrifice, but I'm not sure that absolves us of wrongdoing. I'll admit this conversation is deeply uncomfortable for me because I make a living working in the church. I sometimes wonder and worry about what words Jesus would have for me if he were to show up at my office door. Would he turn my desk over? Toss my computer out the window? 

During the golden age of churchgoing, when congregations exploded and buildings busted at the seams, what was driving all that growth?  The party line is that it was bringing people to faith, to Christ. And that is definitely true for some. I know a lot of people who came to faith during that time and for all the right reasons. They are the rocks on which the church is built and the reason I can sit at this desk and type these words.

But if we're saying things we think and do not say, I'd offer that for much of the 20th century (at least), church had become a place where people connected to their privilege rather than to Christ. Church attendance was expected, and because of that, it offered a convenient place to rub elbows with important people--a place to network.

Church had become a business opportunity. Church had become the guy who sold the guy who sold the shoes that came with the little pump rather than the guy who truly sought better for everyone in the world except for himself.

Somewhere along the way, someone realized there are other places to do that. Places that are a lot more fun that don't ask for 10% of your income on a regular basis. Attendance patterns changed. Giving changed. Steeples started to topple. Literally. 

I served that church almost 20 years ago. I once climbed into that steeple. Now it's a mixed use development with a mattress store across the street and a clever name. When I served there, the library included a few albums of church history. Not long before the church had been vibrant and full of life. The biggest problem was how to protect people as they walked across North Decatur Road because there wasn't adequate parking on the church's side of the street. By the time I arrived, though, those glory days were over. Somewhere in our heart, while we hoped the church would regain itself, I think we all knew this would happen. It was only a question of how long it would take.

Do you know why that church ultimately collapsed (apart from the cable attached to a bulldozer)? It's because personal relationships collapsed. Over a period of a decade or so, multiple splits occurred, and people left the church. If halved, and it halved again. People abandoned each other, not the building.  And at some point enough of the relationships died that the building went with them.  In fact, the relationships that lived moved down the street to meet at another church and rededicated the resources generated to serving the aging!

Sure, there are some "old school" churches that are still wildly successful. But the churches that are reborn from the ashes of the churches that have died seem to start with building relationships. They focus on being present for each other and working together to reveal God's love to the world.

Working in music ministry, it's easy to think the "what" of ministry is the music: the number of ensembles and the number of people in them, the kind of music we sing, and the quality of the music we sing. But all that is just shoes that came with a little pump. The "what" of music ministry is exactly what Dickey Fox told us was the secret to his job: personal relationships. Caring for each other and caring for each person we meet along the way. Sing with me...and you are family.