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Tuesday 28 November 2023

The natural life-cycle of a local church

 Churches are born - and churches die

Martin Luther once said:

"the Word of God is seldom retained in purity in any one place beyond a period of twenty or at best forty years. The people become accustomed to it, grow cold in their Christian love, and regard God's gift of grace with indifference."

Luther was not thinking about individual churches, but whole regions.

However, what is true about regions can also be true of local churches.

Churches are often born in fervent spiritual and Gospel zeal. But before long the thorns of laxity and tradition stiffle growth.

The plant withers and before too long, sans strength, sans zeal, sans people, sans everything, it dies. 

Any reading of church history, micro or macro reveals the same Judges-arian pattern: rise & fall, rise & fall.

This is one of the reasons churches must be planted all the time in every city, in every community and in every age. 

Even if there are many "churches" in a particular city, it is still in need of new churches because at least some of the existing ones will be in their middle age while others will be in the throes of death.

The Universal Church of Christ, "terrible as an army with banners" suffers no decline but grows, conquers and triumphs through the ages! 

But local churches come and go.  

Travel into almost any Welsh village today and there you will see the pretty conversions of church building to house or church building to shop. 

Gone forever the congregations that once met there.

Ten causes of ecclesiastical mortality

Here are ten causes that can lead to the demise of any local church (sadly the list is unlikely to be exhaustive):

1) Old leaders do not train or give way to new ones

"Old guys rule the world" reads a worldly T-shirt. If older church leaders won't either train up the next generation  - or let go of the reins of "power" (as if church leadership has anything to do with power) the church grows old with their leaders, and before long, out of touch with the contemporary world, it dies.

2) The church gets clogged-up with family relationships

In this scenario long-standing families in the church assume that due to their long-evity they should have long-authority. 

They block or frustrate the progress of every new move forward - unless, of course, it boosts their cause or if they agree with it. 

Once you hear the phrase "family block vote" you are listening to the death rattle of your local church.

3) A one-man band

In this version of the local church the senior pastor is the star attraction of the show. For one reason or another he's the reason for the "popularity" or "success" of the church. 

Sometimes he plods on till he is embarrassingly decrepit (this is especially noticable in the mega so-called churches) and then as soon as he has gone the whole edifice collapses, since it was all about him in the first place.

If the church outlives said illustrious guru, it dwells perpetually under the sad grey cloud of antecedent glory. 

(You can understand when churches that had such a supposed illustrious past make little or no mention of their evangelical champion on their websites: that's not a churlish act, it's a good and neccesary thing, for why should the church of the living be held back by glorified saints? We're not Roman Catholics are we?)

4) Living traditions petrify

Moving away from people to traditions, "We've always done things this way!" is the fourth reason churches die. It does not take long before traditions die hard and a church is simply unable to move with the times, even though it is geared to the Rock.

Even worse than traditions per se - which are not always of themselves bad: every church has traditions - are human traditions that are staunchly defended or justified. We can't change the songs we sing or the music we use because of sound reasons a, b and c. 

Where these traditions are merely the (even good) wisdom of man they spell stockade disaster for the future of that local church.

5) Clinging to a romantic past (that never actually was)

One problem with advancing years, ecclessiastical or not, is a romanticizing of the past. Since the the future is bleak, ageing saints tend to look backwards rather than forwards.

The problem is this: nostalgia plays tricks on us all: that past age was never really as golden as it is made out to be. There were just as many challenges back then, as there are today, just as many setbacks.

Were there really 100 children in the Sunday school in 1983? 

Really? 

Are you sure?

Perhaps on just that one occasion? 

Otherwise, normally, about 30?

This rosing of the past leads to a misguided dictim which accelerates demise: "If God blessed the church in them ol' halcyon days, why should we change the way we do things today?"

6) Clutching at straws

Some churches refuse to acknowledge the patent-inevitable by clutching at every straw the wind happens to blow through the draughty rafters. 

The slightest 'encouragement' is reason to dig the heels of tradition in and plod on - no matter what. A new face, an unexpected gift or a positive comment is all that is needed to perk up the drooping spirit.

The determination is admirable, the outcome largely unchanged.

7) Inward looking

This is often the ultimate reason churches die. Instead of reaching out to the lost, they have become consumed with internal matters.

Like the church building in London that only has windows in the ceiling, none facing the surrounding district, these folks have become heavenly - or perhaps inwardly - minded, but of little earthly good.

8) Confusion between church building and the church

Owning a "church" building is one of the greatest hindrances to acknowledging that a church has, in fact, already died. 

If for example, the same congregation had been meeting in a rented hall, they would have given up the ghost moons ago. 

But through the subtle confusion between "church" and "building" that takes place when a congregation owns property it is possible to imagine that the "church" is alive, "after all lots of bricks and mortar are still here" even though the church itself has long died.

9) Doctrinal error

As soon as the cancer of error blights a church the end is nigh - unless repentance follows heresy. 

We are witnessing this all around us as many of the historical denominations depart from the Gospel - and naturally plummet in attendance.

10) Stuck in a  single-issue doctrinal groove

The final item on my list is more common than many care to admit. A church train gets shunted onto the sidings of some secondary doctrine.

Perhaps it will be a particular view of Israel, a view of Bible translations, an unhealthy over-emphasis on signs of the times.

Satan cares not the name of the siding -  he's just happy that the train stays put and then rusts away.

Over the years, as these churches orbit their alien suns, they either blow themselves up into a thousand discordant smithereens, or die a natural death because no-one but doctrine-clones will - or can - join them.

There's a time to (gracefully) die

As harsh - and difficult - as this verdict may be, there is a time for a church to close, just as there is a time for each of us to die. Not one of the local churches of the New Testament are alive today - that should surprise us not one jot.

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:  a time to be born and a time to die..." (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2)

Straight up.

So entrenched do traditions or power structures become that attempt to revitalise or renew the church may only lead to wasted energy directed towards needless strife - and crucially - away from Gospel endeavours.

It's no shame for a church to acknowledge that their lane, perhaps once a mighty highway, has narrowed into a cul-de-sac. 

Let them rejoice that Jehovah has a hundred other brand new motorways down which his Kingdom Coach will triumph for sure.

Is it not preferable for a church to close nobly and purposefully, rather than to die by prolonged and agonizing attrition?

Sometimes revitalization works, but often, only when the dwindling congregation has reached the state of utter desperation which prises their fingers from all the levers of future decision making.

Churches must be planted - all the time

And, as I have suggested above, because churches naturally die, they must constantly be renewed.

There is never a time in any city or town when it can be said "there are enough churches here."

Plant, plant, and plant again.

AI Image:
"Dalle paint the lifecycle of a church building from birth to death"

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