In the scripture verses we just read a few minutes ago, Jesus sounds like the energizer bunny: preaching, teaching, healing, traveling to all these cities and towns on foot. He’s got the energy of a 30-year-old, because, well, he’s a 30-year-old. And he says to his disciples, “So much to do, so few people doing it.” Right—like him. He’s the one doing everything. If we had kept reading, we would have seen that Jesus commissions the disciples to go out two by two to nearby towns to preach and heal and cast out demons. If the people in those towns accept the disciples, great; if not, the disciples are to shake the dust off their sandals on the way out of town. And this is entirely an opportunity to step out in faith: the disciples are not to take food with them, or a change of clothes, or money. They are completely dependent on the goodwill of the people they will meet.
Think about that for a minute. If you’re going on a trip, you’ve got your rolling suitcase, and your credit cards and some food—you don’t need to talk to anyone. But if you take all those things away—no suitcase, no money, no food—and you just start walking, all of a sudden you’d better start making friends, because they are your best hope for dinner and a place to sleep tonight. Wow, can you imagine? And as we know, even late in the game, the disciples don’t fully understand Jesus’ ministry. But this scene is fairly early. Jesus is sending them out kind of clueless to just start doing the work.
Look around this sanctuary. The energizer bunny doesn’t attend this church. It used to. Maybe we were the energizer bunnies back in the day. There were people who hosted coffee hour every week. There were people who served on boards and teams and committees. There were people who arranged for flowers on the altar every Sunday, who found the guest preachers, who took charge of the sign-up sheet for liturgists, who served as liturgists. There was a moderator and a co-moderator. There were people who taught Sunday School, and—way back in the day—there were lots of kids, because church used to be this thing that most of our society did on Sunday mornings. In the 1960s, this congregation had passion and energy to create a preschool. So there were people here. And they were energizers and energized. They did the work. Maybe they talked about church with their neighbors, and maybe the neighbors came to church, too. There was momentum carrying this congregation along.
The energizer bunnies have left the building, have left the congregation. Even if we used to be energizer bunnies, most of us are not anymore. We’ve all gotten older. Some have died; some have health issues that prevent them from doing what they used to. Some have moved away. We do the things we can do. We sing in the choir. We make something for the monthly potluck. We wash dishes after that potluck. We donate to food drives and sock drives and the shower for Baby Jesus. We pledge. And people are generous, but there are fewer of us, and costs keep rising. In recent years, we’ve had huge budget deficits—in the $70,000 range—that we have covered with legacy funds. That is not a sustainable strategy. At the rate we’re going, we can keep doing that for maybe another five years. And then we’re out of money and we’re done.
The number of people who have the time and energy and inclination to serve on the Church Board or the Board of Trustees or the Practicing Gratitude Team or Worship & Music or Social and Environmental Justice—that number is smaller and smaller. Sometimes it’s the same small pool of people who serve on multiple teams. And they’re getting tired, but no one is coming up behind them to take their place. And they care about this congregation—we all do—so they keep doing the work. We don’t have a church moderator or co-moderator.
Two years ago, you may recall, we did this whole Thriving Prospect project. One Sunday after church we had lunch downstairs and we brainstormed. What would a thriving Prospect look like? What resources do we have that would help Prospect thrive? What steps do we need to take to make this vision a reality?
People had great ideas, and some folks jumped in, for example, to create the monthly potluck lunches. That has been fabulous. Last year a couple of people had energy around creating an online meditation service, which is now available on the landing page of our website. Great! Sue Erber has put together a monthly family worship service and come up with stories and activities. Sometimes families show up. Sometimes they’re busy doing something else. That just is what it is.
But a number of the great ideas didn’t have anyone willing to make them happen. Or if we did make them happen, people didn’t—or couldn’t—show up. People wanted a more contemplative service, so Kia and I created a Taizé service followed by a soup and bread supper. We never had more than one person show up. So we stopped doing it.
Congregations have a life cycle. In the early days and years, there’s lots of energy to gather people around a vision. You try things; it’s exciting. After a while the congregation is established, and it has a sustaining momentum. There are people, there are activities, there are ministries. It may dip or surge here and there, but mostly it cruises along steadily. And then there can come a time such as the one we’re in, where the number of people falls off, the energy flags. The congregation is on a downward trajectory. That’s us now.
Understand that there is no shame or blame in this. I can try to shame myself, saying, “If only I’d done more of this, or if only I were more of a charismatic extrovert,” or whatever, then maybe Prospect would be doing well. I’m not lecturing or admonishing anyone. It just is what it is. We show up with the gifts and talents and energy that we have, and we do what we can do. Congregations throughout the country are experiencing this same downward phenomenon. Church is no longer a thing that a lot of people do. It’s no longer an assumed part of our culture. It means something to us, so we keep coming. We love the sense of community, this particular group of people, the building, the music. We take care of each other, as I found out when I had surgery this spring—so much soup and so many cards came my way! And that meant a lot. I felt held. That’s something this congregation knows how to do: hold each other in difficult times.
After worship today we will hold our annual congregational meeting. We will go over all of these things, because you all need to make some decisions sometime soon about how you move forward. Notice I’m no longer saying “we,” because I’m stepping out. You’re entering into a transition time. Do you have the energy to put together a search team to find a new minister? That’s a lot of work. What would you want a new minister to do—and how are you, individually and collectively, willing and able and prepared to join in the work? And for some of you, the honest answer is going to be that you can’t join in the work. You have health issues or other commitments or whatever. It doesn’t mean you don’t love this church.
The laborers are few and kind of tired. That doesn’t mean this church is dead. It doesn’t mean God is done with any of us. We keep on keeping on, doing the things we can do, serving however we can. It does mean you have some choices to make about the path going forward. And know that, whatever you choose, there are people—in the conference, in the UCC national office, in the world—who are available to help. You do not do this work alone. Jesus sent the disciples out two by two. Take a buddy. Listen for how God is calling Prospect to do the next thing, how God is calling Prospect and each of you to move forward—or to say “Enough, we’ve had a good run, let’s be done.” And there are still people in this congregation with ideas and energy who are saying, as in Monty Python, “We’re not dead yet!” It’s up to you.
Amen.