As we look forward toward our future together, then, let us embrace who we are, and with God’s help, keep building the kingdom of Jesus here today.
After two and a half years of ministry, I have come to know First Baptist Church Freeport as a congregation, the greater Freeport area as a region, and the endeavors I feel called to pursue through this church in its immediate future. For the sake of clarity, the reflections to follow will be structured by three categories, and I will list them at the outset: (1) Our Post-Christian Moment; (2) Reflection & Relation; and (3) Midweek Mission.
First, our post-Christian moment. Fifty years ago, ‘going to church’ was a rather popular thing to do. Families in America, young and old, rich and poor, black and white, on Sunday mornings went to church. Church attendance was culturally encouraged and “worth trying” for most American families. The pews were generally quite full, the percentage of Christians quite high. Church was, you could say, popular in those days.
Since then, however, church has fallen on hard times. Our culture has become less and less Christian, such that we now live in a post-Christian America (not necessarily a bad thing; see below). Going to church is no longer considered popular; it has lost its widespread cultural appeal. Many do not think they’ll benefit from it; and, thus, church attendance has precipitously declined.
Despite such apparent decline, however, the number of sincere Christians in America likely hasn’t changed much (if anything, it’s grown).
Fifty years ago, 75% of the population might have attended church; 75% might have checked “Christian” on a survey. But among that large slice, a small minority were sincere, authentic believers. Today, perhaps 25% of the population attends church; perhaps 25% checks “Christian” on a survey. But what proportion of that much smaller slice represents authentic, devoted believers?
Today in America, we live in a post-Christian era in which the state does not (and should not) sanction Christian belief. When such a thing happened in antiquity, scores of monastic communities arose composed of the most ardent, sincere believers the world had ever seen. The church’s ranks were whittled down to its most devoted followers. We may be on the cusp of such a movement today.
Second, reflection and relation. Brandon O’Brien has written a marvelous little book entitled, The Strategically Small Church, in which he encourages small churches (those averaging 30-100 attendees) to embrace their smallness and resist conforming to mega-church models of ministry. O’Brien calls these small churches to ask two basic questions: (1) What are the needs of our community? (2) What are we as a church uniquely gifted to provide?
First, what are the needs of our community, both our church community and the greater Freeport region? Over the past few years, our church and our world has experienced a season of pronounced stress and transition: political changes, global pandemic, social unrest, violence and war. Constancy and stability, reintegration and connection, reflection and deep processing, all present as vital needs in our current moment. With political polarization on the rise, and often along generational lines, there’s need for social reintegration and open reflection, among persons of all ages and backgrounds.
Many in today’s day and age, thus long for a space in which to discuss cultural, political, even theological issues, without fear of aggression, polarization, and social rejection. Residents of the greater Freeport region are, like others, in need of such discourse and connection. We crave deep relationships that will endure despite differences of opinion, perspectives, and even values.
O’Brien’s second question is: what are we as a church uniquely gifted to provide? After the past two and half years, I’ve begun to perceive what I think is the ‘DNA’ of First Baptist Church of Freeport. Though small (50-60 attendees) according to some, this congregation is marked by its palpable culture of discipleship, it’s belief in the enduring power of one-on-one, emotionally sensitive connections. While many in our congregation may identify as introverted or socially reserved, there is deep relational potential in our community.
Another dimension I have noticed is a sincere interest in deep reflection. After two and half years in this body, I’ve been shocked by your appetite for Biblical, historical, and theological truth. Along with being a place of relation, then, this is a place of reflection: deep, honest, critical reflection on the difficult questions of culture and faith.
So, relation and reflection: that, I think, is what our world needs, and that is what we’re gifted to provide. Rather than segregating these dimensions, however –one into a classroom, the other into a living room– why can’t we combine them?
Why can’t deep, critical, honest reflection happen in the context of deep, sensitive, caring relationships? Why can’t engagement with the critical questions of life take place at the park, in the brewpub, in a living room; not necessarily ‘at church on Sunday morning’ but somewhere else, where people are?
This brings me to my third and final point: midweek mission. What we do on a Sunday morning, in my opinion, should not be the end-all-be-all, as it once was. Since we’re no longer attracting droves of people, drawn by cultural popularity, to attend our churches, we must de-center the Sunday morning service, seeing it for what it’s designed to be.
The Sunday morning service should not be the “basket into which we put all our eggs.” It is not the primary setting for the ‘real work’ of the Christian mission (i.e., loving the world and making disciples). The Sunday morning service is simply where some believers gather on a weekly basis to glorify God and stimulate each other for this mission.
The Sunday service is not primarily where we do the mission. It’s not primarily where we build the kingdom. It’s where the kingdom-builders come to huddle-up, be encouraged, and be inspired to love and serve our world between Sundays.
As we look to our unwritten future, then, I propose that we prioritize relation and reflection. We should be known for our in-between-Sundays book discussions and park-meet-ups, our dinner fellowships and living room chats, our Saturday morning hikes, brewpub hangouts, our sincere friendship and love for others.
Rather than channeling all our energy into an all-inclusive, one-size-fits-all Sunday service (a fiction), our in-between-Sundays-life should be our main thing. Small networks of Christians connecting, relating to, and serving the people they encounter every day; that should be what we’re all about.
Right now, fifty to sixty people attend our church on Sunday mornings. For those who once saw 150+ attend regularly, this might be alarming. For me, however, it’s the most exciting news in the world: it means that right now, in our post-Christian moment, in one of the most irreligious states in the country, fifty to sixty believers are gathering with faith together, waiting to unleash the love of Jesus upon the world.
As we look forward toward our future together, then, let us embrace who we are, and with God’s help, keep building the kingdom of Jesus here today. Godspeed.
Jonah Bissell
Pastor