I have too many books to read. I feel like that proverbial dog at a whistler’s convention. A title presents itself to me and not too long after I crack the spine of that book, another title whistles and I set off in a new direction. I am clearly following the advice of one of my theology professors in seminary who told us: “Don’t read books. Read parts of books.”
The latest title to get my attention is a book I received for Christmas, Timothy Egan’s Pilgrimage to Eternity: From Canterbury to Rome in Search of a Faith. It is a memoir about his recent pilgrimage along the Via Francigena, a medieval trail from Canterbury to Rome that winds its way through France, Switzerland and Italy. What I am most drawn to in the book are Egan’s various reflections on the evidence of the dying European Church. He keeps pointing to the tragic irony of how the continent, whose historic landmarks are legacies of Christian faith, is now primarily home to people who no longer believe.
Egan’s reflections about the European Church have fueled my own reflections about the sustainability of the American Church. We’re not that far behind Europe. Our statistics indicating active participation in organized religious communities might be higher than those in Europe, but as I drive around Seattle I am definitely noticing an increase in the number of “farewell” signs posted in front of churches that announce their impending closure. Like the message on a marquis advertising the close of a Broadway show, these signs celebrate a good run that has run its course.
Yet fear and anxiety about the survival of the Church is not a very good way to respond to these dour statistics. In the end, the energy we expend in worry does little more than add to the depth of our grave. Jesus has let us know in a variety of ways that the work of saving our lives pretty much depends on not thinking about saving our lives but focusing instead on living them, giving them away. The church is heathiest when we settle into Jesus’ invitation to follow him. Resting in the truth that brought us together is what keeps us together, and keeps us moving forward in productive, life-giving ways.
The Church is a means to a greater end, not an end in itself. It came to be because followers of Jesus need each other to sustain the journey on which Jesus has invited us. Each of us has a God-given vocation on which to act, and we need the people of the church to encourage us on the Way. We don’t show up on Sunday with a lot to give. We show up hungry, in search of the food we know we need to fuel the coming week. So if we have a duty to the church, it is a duty to show up and take what we need to sustain the journey and give what we must to insure that the table can continue to be set.
Nothing flashy, but vitally important. The church offers the gift of encouragement that enables us to persevere. Timothy Egan tells of a sign outside St. Martin’s parish in Canterbury that says it well:
We do not have all the answers.
We are on a spiritual journey.
We look to Scripture, reason and tradition to help us on our way.
Whoever you are, we offer you a space to draw nearer to God and walk with us.
[Dave Rohrer—January 1, 2020]