Episcopal Church Foundation Vestry Papers - for leading congregations

“Why don’t these younger people start doing more around here?”

It’s a common refrain I’ve heard for years, perhaps one of the most consistent things I’ve heard throughout my ten years of ordained ministry and generally uttered by someone who’s been doing some certain job in the church for a stretch of time. Now, let me be honest. I’m never sure this means that the speaker, in fact, wants to give up what she or he has been doing, and I’m not at all certain that it means that the speaker is willing to let the thing cease being or change if he or she does get let go.

To be honest, when these statements come – and they come surprisingly often – they’re often one of the more turbulent things I experience. Maybe it’s just me, but these moments trigger an odd, nearly full-dose mixture of pastoral sensitivity and strategic thinking. Those aren’t often happy bedfellows, at least not so much in my brain, and I suppose such tensions are what makes a faith life, not to mention a faith community an exciting thing.

The stress that goes along with an increasingly aging church is no mere perception; it’s a real thing. About as real as it gets. The Episcopal Church itself reports “a large majority (73%) of Episcopal congregations report that more than half of their members are age 50+. 27% … report that more than half of their members are age 65 or older.” Episcopalians are “older than the general population. Overall, 31% of Episcopal members are age 65+, as compared to only 14% of the U.S. population.” Also, we have far more adults and older adults, than children, youth, and young adults. And these skewed demographics impact our overall growth and vitality on the congregational level: “Episcopal parishes and missions with greater proportions of older members (age 65+) tend to be smaller, and are more often found in rural and small town settings.”

The reality is those younger families, youth, and young adults who are members of our congregations not only have increased demands in the whole of their lives, given economic disparity and all the other demands, but they simply cannot live up to the needs and wishes of those aging members of the congregation who (kind of) wish to stop doing what they’ve been doing for the past thirty years.

Yet there are young families, youth, and young adults in our congregations and communities. To be fair, I only have anecdotal evidence to support this claim – and, yes, I know that anecdotal isn’t at all the same as factual evidence. But in my own community and congregation I know plenty of young adults and young persons. In some cases, I know their families, if not their parents and grandparents who are active members of the church I serve as priest. But I also know them and I know their interests. And, contrary to the often alleged facts, they are interested in the mission and life of the church, to some extent. They tend to show up, like so many others, for big holidays and celebrations, but they also come out for performances in which their children are involved and for causes, which clearly speak to a church engaging and serving the world. The average age and, let me call it, “congregational activity level” of those who help with youth group activities, for instance, or the sheltering program for persons who are homeless is far below that of the average, ‘active’ member, by which I mean that there are more than enough young persons who are interested in doing justice work or formation work but maybe not so interested in organizing coffee hour.

This is something that’s presented itself more and more in my life and ministry, and I have a feeling that this year will feature more of this. I’ve decided that I’m going to (at least try to) be less anxious and concerned when people start to hang up their jobs, and I’m going to (at least try to) turn it over to God a whole lot more than I have in the past. That was the beginning of my thoughts about this blog post, and I know it’ll be a work in progress in my own heart and leadership.

But then I went into the sacristy earlier this week and I started to get the readings and things organized for our midweek healing service. Looking at the lessons, I saw 1 Samuel 3:1-20, and knew of course that that was the story of the call of Samuel – “Samuel! Samuel!” “Here I am, Lord!” As the lector read, however, I became so much more intrigued and drawn to the character of Eli, realizing that without Eli’s humility and willingness to get out of the way, God wouldn’t have had the chance to speak so clearly to and, in time, through Samuel. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Eli, as well, to hear that God is doing a new thing and that things were going to change and that his own sons weren’t going to carry on the tradition he’d worked so hard to inhabit and pass along. And yet Eli heard, and Eli helped Samuel hear. And, together, they both found that there’s both turbulence and joy in that mythical fountain of youth.

Don't miss a blog post! Subscribe via email or RSS, using the grey box on the upper right.