By Amy Butler
In the tradition of Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, I would like here to officially announce the unveiling of my grand plan to overthrow current church-membership practices.
You heard me right.
It’s not that this thinking is new to me; it actually started long before that Church Council meeting several years ago where the Council heatedly discussed whether or not people should be erased from church membership if they are dead.
But every time I teach a new-member class, fill in a form asking for church-membership numbers, or approach the long-anticipated season of stewardship each year, I think about this again. And again and again and again.
And I officially declare that I am done thinking about it. It’s time to take some radical action.
Here’s the thing: I have given this speech innumerable times, to the point that our deacon chair once asked me to tone it down, as I could be scaring people.
I have written about this in the church newsletter so much the editor is starting to suggest new material.
I have even preached about this, as preaching is often good for addressing a captive audience.
Here’s what I say: In short, being a church member means you show up regularly, in person at little events like, say, worship; you offer your voice to the ongoing conversation of how we’re following Jesus around here; you give your money (seriously, I think everybody should tithe and I am not kidding); you commit yourself to a personal discipline of faith, which means tending to your own spiritual health and praying for the health of this community; and you actively help newer members and visitors find their place here.
The thing is, as I always say, anybody can be a part of our life together. Really, everyone is welcome to participate. But I feel a conviction that being a church member is a different thing altogether. And after years of worrying about being too demanding of people, I am scared no longer. Church membership is a big deal, because the health of our community, not to mention the work of following Jesus, is a big deal, too.
So here’s what I propose:
- Let’s clear the rolls every year. Yup. January 1, the church membership number goes down to 0. You heard me.
- Then, as an act of worship, let’s all publicly commit ourselves to church membership for the year ahead — with full awareness that we are committing to the life of this community in the ways I mentioned.
- And then, let’s agree to hold each other accountable while we pray as hard as we can for God’s help.
I am not so naïve that I don’t know this sort of membership policy may present some problems. For one thing, the number of delegates that we can send to associational meetings is based on our membership numbers. No matter that we can never find enough people to go anyway, but I guess I could see how a reduction in our allowed representation might be … sad? And then, of course, if we publish accurate membership numbers every year, all the people out there who were under the impression that Calvary was a megachurch will know the truth.
Honestly, the only real objection I can think of is that a membership policy like this might prove unpopular with people who move away but want to maintain their ties to this specific church. I can see how this could be hard; it’s always hard to live through transition and change. But if we define church membership as being present and invested, then we will have taught our people well if they move away and find a new community of faith in which to plant their lives. Frankly, I would much rather be sending out prophetic, committed Christians to other faith communities than have a super-inflated membership number that is not reflected in the actual life of our community.
So, that’s it: my secret plan to overthrow current church-membership policies. I think it’s high time we shake things up a bit around here. Who’s in?