I live and minister in one of those rural and more lightly populated areas where people often talk of the risk of 'dying churches.' In fact, I have spent over 20 years in this area, some of it working with other, smaller congregations in addition to my own. At this point in time we have a particular challenge, and it's not just closing supposedly under-performing congregations that resist closing. With the indoor retreat of the pandemic the usual ways of reaching people have changed dramatically. There was a time when you encouraged people to bring a friend to church as a way of introducing them to the faith. But now we have a hard time just getting many of our members to do that. And with a lack of real in-person interaction among people for the better part of a year, how do you encourage real outreach? The online, live-streamed option has its benefits, and I am using it regularly. It has opened some doors, but how many of these will be long term? I am hoping that once we move beyond the strict and restrictive stage of this health crisis people will begin to again want to explore the value of community, especially community around Word and Table. At this point the challenge is keeping the doors open long enough so that we are poised for that mission once the field turns from virtual to real again.
Having just attended a DOXOLOGY retreat recently that was held for a joint meeting of the circuit visitors of the North and South Wisconsin District, I am even more acutely aware of another, quiet crisis that may be receiving too little attention. As with the psychological fallout in the population in general (rise in suicide rates, abuse, etc.), we have the emotional and spiritual stress and strain within the ministerium to face as well. We are talking about what churches may survive the pandemic with doors open, but how many clergy will remain to the bitter end to see the light of the new day? I will be honest and admit that I think about retirement every day (I am 60 and yet five years away from Medicare). I am deeply committed to my parish and have great support and thank God for the stable finances. But I, along with countless others, feel an almost intangible weariness as well, with a insecure feeling that we are not doing all that we can do (which brings lingering guilt, among other things). Our clergy are an unseen and under-reported group suffering from the emotional/psychological/spiritual fallout of this strange and prolonged season we are in. At least I can see some people inside my church. I feel for those who minister in states with draconian lock-down measures still in place. The end stage of this crisis has yet to be seen and evaluated. There will be other, large issues for the church to deal with that we may only now beginning to realize. As a side note, I have to wonder if the seminaries are preparing their graduates in different ways given these new and continue stressors that may be a face of the church of the future.