The church has become redundant

I saw this cartoon by naked pastor in March right at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic lockdown and I wondered if Pastor Don might actually be me by the end of the lockdown. Now I didn’t imagine we wouldn’t meet as a congregation for 38 weeks and that I’d only be there for 3 before finishing up in my role as pastor, but hey that’s what happened. 

My role being made redundant has forced me to confront the questions and challenges in my head, face on and question what is next for me in terms of church, worship, ministry and a place of belonging.  It’s no secret that I struggle with a Sunday liturgy, the motions and rules and rhythm of worship, do not interest me, I find it hard to see God in those words and would much rather be at morning tea talking over life and theology with the community. 

The COVID-19 pandemic has forced us as a society to reconsider many things, and I wonder if we have done enough thinking or if when we were/are able if we have snuck back to our old ways, just dusting a few cobwebs and carrying on. You see, I think the church is redundant. Not the people of God, but the institution of the church. For month and months our buildings sat empty as we tried to do ministry online and in public places, and we echoed loudly, 'the church isn't the building' as we tried to think creatively on how to connect with people when we couldn't gather together. Now I’m not saying we didn’t do ministry in those times, but we were awfully excited to exclaim, “church is back” when we were finally allowed to fill the pews again as if we forgot what we had been chanting for the 8 months prior about church not being a building. 

Maybe we need to be less attached to our buildings and property and sell them and use the money to fund ministry directly with the people. The church is redundant. The building is unnecessary, sure many of them are pretty, and its convenient to have a place to store our icons and symbols and to gather when we can. But its redundant. We can gather in homes, at the park, on the beach, in coffee shops and over the internet. 

What would it be if instead of funding an organist to play in a building on Sunday morning, if instead we gave a stack of money to a new mum, and said bless your mothers club, do life together, raise your children together, buy coffee, share stories and cry together and celebrate together.  What if we gave the money to a local coffee shop to open a drinks tab so that people could come and meet with someone who would listen to them, someone who would sit with them and they wouldn't be alone. What if we invested in shelters and BBQ's at local parks, and planted trees.  Or if we invested in a local book shop where there was space for regular book clubs and discussion groups. 

Maybe I'm just dreaming, but I see God in action in the mission of the everyday, and especially in 2020 when our buildings were closed, God was in the actions of small groups and relationships. That's where I want to be, in the stories and journeys of people in the everyday. 

Sell all the buildings, give the money to missions and ministries that build life and relationships, rather than to continue to dust the cobwebs and sit miserably about the redundancy of the institutional church.