Reflections from Clergy Conference

I wrote a short note last week about our annual Clergy Conference, including the wonderful work our speaker, the Rev. Becca Stevens, is doing at Thistle Farms.

This week, I wanted to offer some observations gleaned from conversations with my clergy colleagues. Some of these may be more churchy than spiritual, more ecclesiological than theological. But I suspect that some of you are rather churchy people, so I thought you might be curious to hear some reflections on the state of our church, and of the wider church, right now.

First: life in smaller churches can be hard, but it is beautiful. During one afternoon session, I sat around a table with the rectors and priests-in-charge of a handful of small churches scattered around Massachusetts, talking about how our congregations are involved in their communities, and what support small churches need to thrive. Many of those present shared reflections on the same struggles: shortages of volunteers and of resources, aging buildings and ailing congregations, the danger of burning out the faithful lay leaders who keep small churches afloat. But all of us also shared the same profound sense of joy: There is a beauty that comes from the life of a small church that is hard to replicate in a larger setting. Larger churches divide up naturally into smaller groups—you can only get to know so many people at once—and these are often based on age, or interest, or activity. But in smaller churches, we are more or less one large small group; people get to know one another who might never interact otherwise, and this is a gift. Personally, I thank God every day that I get to know all of you so well; we do not have an Associate Rector for Pastoral Care and an Associate Rector for Children & Youth, we just have the one Rector, who therefore gets to take the children’s questions and concerns as seriously as he does yours.

Second: relatively speaking, St. John’s is now a medium-sized church. Or rather… the median church in the diocese is now a relatively small church. To put it in terms of Average Sunday Attendance (ASA), which is one of the pieces of long-term statistical data the church collects: on the average Sunday in 2023, the median church in our Diocese had 51 people at worship. St. John’s had 48. Roughly speaking, there are as many Episcopal churches in eastern Massachusetts that are smaller than St. John’s as there are that are larger than us. I’m accustomed to thinking of St. John’s as a small church, and perhaps that’s also true. But I think it’s useful to recognize that if we’re a small church, then most of our Episcopal churches these days are small churches, too, and some much more so!

Third: to paraphrase Anna Karenina, all full-time priests’ schedules are alike; all part-time priests are part-time in their own way. Many of you know that I’ve served St. John’s at 60% of full time since my arrival here in 2020. For me, that means being here every Sunday with a sermon in hand, and scaling down in the number of days I’m available during the week. Some other parishes share a priest 50-50 to provide a full-time job, with services at both churches each Sunday (but economies of scale in worship planning and sermon writing!); other churches have a part-time priest, who (for example) is paid half-time and is at church every other Sunday. Our bishop has spoken about wanting to support collaboration between parishes to ensure more full-time positions are available. It’s led me to reflect on how glad I am that our particular model works. I’m often at church 8:30am-2pm on Sundays, and those are the most important hours of my week; I couldn’t imagine trying to cram in another service somewhere else during the day, and missing out on community and fellowship here. (And just for the sake of clarity, I’m very happy with our set-up and am not able to move up to full-time work at the moment due to my family commitments!)

All of which is to say: we are at a time of open questions, a time of threats to the sustainability of many churches which is also a time of great opportunity. My experience here over the last few years has suggested we’re also in the early stages of a period of revival or renewal in the life of the church; the post-Covid period has come with a hopefulness and joy for the future that is different from the sense of long-term decline and loss that came before it. There aren’t any easy answers for what the model looks like for ministry in the church going forward… But this year’s Clergy Conference gave me a new sense of hope and trust in our Bishop and other diocesan leaders to help us work through it.