Lutefisk and the Decline of the Mainline Denominations

A few weeks ago I attended the ELCA's first "large congregations" event. This was an event for staff and select members of ELCA congregations that worship 500 people or more on a Sunday morning. At Trinity, we worship around 1,200 people on average. We are the only congregation in our synod that is that large, and we are also one of the only Lutheran congregations on the east coast that is that large. I have been told that we are the largest Lutheran church east of the Mississippi River and the 11th largest in the country.

Because of this, one of the frustrations that the staff at Trinity faces is that we are not like other people. We have a hard time relating to many of the problems found in smaller parishes. We don't consider ourselves to be better, just different. It is also sometimes difficult to relate to our colleagues who work in smaller parishes, because our needs and challenges are often different. Granted, some of our problems are the SAME (attendance and accountability issues, for example), but many of them are just on a different scale and need to be handled in a different way than they would be in a smaller congregation.

So, this "large congregations" event was an opportunity for us to network with other congregations who are similar to us in size and makeup. It was also an opportunity to learn about ministries in other congregations, brainstorm new ideas, hear amazing speakers, and be challenged to grow, change, and try new things. In many ways, that is exactly what happened. I think I can speak for most of the folks on my staff when I say that we were challenged, refreshed, and ready to try new things by the time the event was over. The worship was amazing (for the most part), the music was uplifting, and the speakers and workshops were all very helpful.

I want to share with you one thing that I learned at this conference, however, that is rather alarming to me.

Lutherans have known for a long time that our membership numbers, along with the membership numbers of other Mainline Protestant denominations (Methodists, Episcopalians, Presbyterians, etc.) are declining. The Evangelical and Non-Denominational churches are growing in leaps and bounds, while the Mainline Protestant denominations, at least in the U.S., are shrinking.

Now, I know there are a lot of reasons for this. I have heard a lot of theories about why this might be. There have been LOTS of books written about why this might be, not all of them flattering to the Lutherans, and not all of them very nice to the Evangelicals, either. I'm not going to go into all of that here. I'm sure I don't even know all of the reasons for this phenomenon. The reason that became terribly clear to me over the course of this conference, however, can be summed up in one word: Lutefisk!

Now, I know you are probably wondering, "What the HECK is lutefisk?" If you are asking that question, then you OBVIOUSLY don't have a Norwegian heritage. My Norwegian ancestors are probably rolling over in their graves right now. Wikipedia defines lutefisk this way: "a traditional dish of the Nordic countries made from air-dried whitefish and soda lye." Wikipedia also defines soda lye as "a caustic solution which is made from ashes and is used for glass, soap making, and certain food preparations." All in all, lutefisk is some pretty nasty stuff. That having been said, however, it is considered a delicacy among Norwegian-Americans and is often eaten during the weeks approaching Christmas.

Needless to say, lutefisk lovers everywhere get a lot of flack for liking the stuff. It has kind of become a thing of legends, though. When I attended seminary in Minnesota, they honored lutefisk once a year by serving it, along with other traditional Norwegian dishes like lefse (which is not nearly as offensive). Minnesota is the Norwegian capital of the U.S. It is also the Lutheran capital of the U.S. Southwest Minnesota has the highest concentration of Lutherans per square mile in the WORLD. So, there are a lot of Lutherans there. There are a lot of Norwegians (and other Scandinavians), and there is a lot of lutefisk. These three things have pretty much become synonymous in that part of the world--Norwegian, Lutheran, lutefisk-eater.

I'm sure by now you are probably wondering why I think lutefisk has anything to do with the decline of Lutheranism (as if lutefisk alone isn't enough to scare people away!). Lutefisk itself is not so much the problem. The problem is what lutefisk represents.

So there I was, sitting in this "large congregations" conference in Minnesota, surrounded, for the most part, by good mid-western Lutherans of Scandinavian heritage, and the lutefisk references and jokes were just unbearable. And then it hit me! If you are not a Lutheran of Scandinavian heritage, if you have never lived in Minnesota and become familiar with the lutefisk phenomenon, then these references will mean absolutely nothing to you. My parishioners in Southeastern Pennsylvania are mostly of German, Irish, and/or Italian background and know nothing about lutefisk. To them, mid-western-lutefisk-eating-Norwegian-heritage Lutheranism is IRRELEVANT!

That is a big reason why the Mainline Denominations are failing. They have ceased to be relevant. We are preaching a message of lutefisk to a generation that eats sushi. Now, don't get me wrong--the gospel, the message of the saving grace of Jesus Christ, is NEVER irrelevant. What it ultimately comes down to, however, is getting that message to people in a way that is relevant to them. Using lutefisk lingo with a sushi crowd will do nothing but make them feel unwelcomed, not-in-the-loop, and will ultimately result in them writing you off.

There are lots of relevant ways for us to spread the message of Jesus Christ. I remember visiting a parish in downtown Minneapolis that in the 1950's and 60's worshiped more than 3,000 people each week. In 2004, when I was there, worship attendance had dwindled to around 200. Upon inquiring, I discovered the reason: the congregation was filled with Norwegian immigrants in the 1950's who joined this church because of the cultural and historical link with others in the congregation. The things that went on there were relevant to Norwegian-American immigrants of the day.

Over the years, however, the demographic of that neighborhood changed. This Lutheran church is situated one block off Lake Street. For those of you who don't know, Lake Street has become the home and place of business of many of Minneapolis' African, Asian, and Arab immigrants. Just like in the 1950's, that neighborhood is still a thriving place for immigrants. Unlike in the 1950's, however, now those immigrants are not Norwegian, are often not Christian, and are generally not white.

This congregation has been clinging to the past of its Norwegian heritage while the world outside has changed and grown. Being a white, middle-class, Norwegian church in that neighborhood is no longer relevant. If that congregation refuses to change its story, then it will eventually die.

There are so many things that that congregation could be doing to become relevant in that community. Offering free legal help, medical clinics, and English classes would be a great place to start. Building relationships with local shops and restaurants and inviting them into their church building to feed people and sell their goods would be another interesting way to go. I know that these things may not be easy. I understand the politics of congregations--many church members might object, and some might even leave. But is the ultimate price for ceasing to be relevant really worth it?

This congregation is, of course, just an example. I think that we all need to be thinking about how we as Christians can be relevant to the people of this world. It is a challenge that I face every day when I enter the doors of my church building to go to work. Trinity is a wonderful place to work and to be a part of the Christian community. I love being there. However, just because Trinity is big and has had incredible growth in the past doesn't mean that we've got it all figured out. In fact, I would say that we have a lot of work to do if we want to remain relevant. Our congregation is 98% white in a community that is now almost 11% southeast-Asian. Our congregation has a lot of money because we have a lot of very generous, well-off people who give to us, but the average person in Lansdale today is struggling financially. What can we be doing better so that we become relevant to those people who are living in Lansdale and who are not a part of our Christian community? As blessed as we are, we still have some work to do!

People are hurting. They have real problems and needs and the church has the answer that will help them. Jesus Christ loves them and wants to be a part of their lives. He died so that we may have eternal life. But if we use words of lutefisk to share this good news with a sushi world, then our message will not be heard.

Reflections from Appalachia: Part II

Or, From Charity to Justice

When thinking about the work that ASP is doing, I am proud that I was able to be a part of it. Given the opportunity, I would go again. I am sure that next year we will plan a similar trip, and hopefully even more young adults will participate than this year. It is good to be drawn out of your comfort zone and pushed into a different culture and socio-economic situation than the one you live in. Although the participants go to help the people of Appalachia, I believe that in many instances the ones serving learn more and are ministered to more than the ones being served. ASP helps teach youth, young adults, and adults who come to serve about the realities of life.

One of the frustrating things about ASP for me, however, is the challenge of moving beyond charity and towards justice. Fixing someone's trailer is nice and certainly makes her situation more comfortable, but it does little to solve the societal issues that make her as poor as she is. Don't get me wrong--the work that ASP is accomplishing is very important for the individuals whose lives they touch. However, even though a person's trailer may be warmer, safer, and drier, she is still poor and unemployed. It's similar to a soup kitchen--feeding the hungry is a wonderful thing to do. These people have an immediate need, which is to eat. However, they will just come back hungry again tomorrow unless you work to fix the bigger issue that is causing them to be hungry in the first place.

I don't claim to know everything about ASP's agenda in Appalachia, and as I have already stated, I do believe they are doing a wonderful ministry there. Some of the evenings we spent in Knox County were spent discussing the issues of poverty in the area, what we think about it, and what we think we could do about it. We were asked if we believed that the situation there is hopeless. We were taught about the history that brought poverty into that part of our country. We were taught about the rich heritage there. We were also taught the statistics--in some parts of Appalachia, including in Knox County where we were, unemployment can reach 20%. That means that 1 out of every 5 people is unemployed. At what point do we move beyond fixing people's homes and talking about the situation, and towards doing something to improve the root causes of the problem?

The manual that I received from ASP prior to going to Appalachia says on page 17 that "[ASP founder Tex Evans] created ASP not to solve the poverty issues in Appalachia but to change lives." I think there is something missing here. ASP does a wonderful job at building relationships and increasing the understanding of poverty in those who come to serve. ASP also does a fine job at changing individual families' lives by making their homes warmer, safer, and drier. But--what is happening to change the root cause of the problem?

I have to admit that I know full well that there are no easy answers. I believe we should be moving from charity (fixing peoples' trailers) and towards justice (solving the problem of poverty in Appalachia so that everyone's quality of life improves), but I do not know how to do that. Maybe if I had made my home in Appalachia in service to the local people, I might understand better how to do that. But, maybe not. I lived in Africa for two years in a place where most people support their families on less than $1.00 a day. After being there for two years, I still do not know what the solution is to their problems. I do have some ideas about how to help solve some of them. But, they have been made victims of governments and militias and so many other powers beyond their control. How do we go about changing history?

I do not believe that the situation in Appalachia is hopeless. But I also wonder what I can effectively do about it. Rollie Martinson, one of my professors in seminary once said to me (I'm paraphrasing here) that the size of the problem may be as big as a beach ball, and what you can do about it might be the size of a marble. But, at least you have done that much, and if everybody did a marble's worth, then many marbles would eventually fill the beach ball and eliminate the problem. Maybe that is what ASP is doing--slowly filling the beach ball with marbles, one run-down trailer at a time. In the process, they are educating people about the issues in Appalachia. Maybe one day that will lead to a solution. Maybe we are slowly moving that way now... so slowly, that I can not see it with my limited vision.

Historical, social, and economic factors in Appalachia have aligned themselves in a frustrating and seemingly endless cycle of poverty. We can not change the past. How do we move ahead into a future with hope?

Reflections from Appalachia: Part I

This is part one of at least two! Please stay tuned for the second piece. I will be on the road again this week, so I promise to write when I can!

I just spent a week in Knox County, Kentucky, in the heart of Appalachian Mountain coal country. I went with a group of adults and young adults from Trinity to serve with Appalachia Service Project, or ASP. ASP is an organization that helps make lower-income families' homes in Appalachia safer, warmer, and drier. You can visit their website at http://www.asphome.org/.

There is a lot of poverty in the Appalachian region of the U.S. One of the things that struck me during my time in Knox County was that we as affluent Americans always seem to think of poverty as an inner-city or a Third-World problem. My guess is that many people do not know about the extreme poverty that exists right in the heart of our country. There are not many opportunities for economic enrichment in Appalachia. The woman whose home we were repairing has lived in a trailer her entire life. When we asked her what she would do if she ever owned a home, she said she wouldn't know what to do with one. A run-down trailer is all she has ever known, and it is probably all she will ever know.

The woman on whose home we worked (I don't want to tell you her name for privacy's sake) makes about $600 per month from public assistance. She is unemployed and feeds her family (two sons and a daughter) and several animals with food stamps. The trailer was in complete disrepair, although it has a new roof and some new flooring because of work ASP did there last summer. We were there to replace the ceilings and insulation that have deteriorated because of previous water damage.

The work was hard, hot, and dirty. Six people in a small room in a tin trailer in June made for some sweaty and smelly work. Not to mention that bringing down rotted fiber-board ceiling and insulation also means wearing face-masks, goggles, long-sleeved shirts, and getting REALLY DIRTY! But the work was fulfilling as we saw the old insulation and ceiling come down, and the new insulation and ceiling go up, complete with new light fixtures and molding. It was nice to see the work taking shape, but even more magnificent was the look on our homeowner's face as she saw the rooms being transformed. It seemed like the little things, more than the big things, were what were most important for her. The new ceiling was great, but what she was really thrilled about were the new light fixtures, a newly-working ceiling-light switch in the bedroom, a no-longer-creaky floorboard, a fixed front screen-door spring, and a previously non-existent dryer vent in her bathroom.

I am still processing the importance of this experience for myself and for the homeowner who we got to know so well in such a short time. She has lived in Knox County her entire life, and has never been more than an hour from home. The fact that we came all the way from Pennsylvania just to help her was amazing to her. It also shows the contrast between our affluence and opportunity and hers. She will never have the chance to cross state lines to help someone else. One of the things that struck me is that in the town where we live, Pierre and I are not really considered well off at all. There are times when we really struggle to make ends meet. And yet, we have so much more than this woman, both materially and in terms of opportunity. It really puts things in perspective--maybe my problems aren't as bad as I think they are!

When I was in missionary orientation prior to moving to Africa, a man named Tony Gittins came and spoke to us about his missionary experience. He had spent 25+ years in Sierra Leone building houses, hospitals, and all kinds of buildings. After he left Sierra Leone, civil war broke out and all the buildings that he had worked so hard to build were destroyed. He said that people always asked him what he felt about the fact that everything he had built in Sierra Leone no longer existed. And he always replied that the work that he did that actually mattered wasn't building buildings--it was building relationships, and those couldn't be destroyed by war. What matters, he said, is the relationships you build, and the people you love, and the people who love you. THAT's what lasts, and that's what's important.

That's what I think ASP is about, too. Yes, making people's homes warmer, safer, and drier is an important and worthwhile task. However, the importance of the experience goes a long way beyond construction. We build relationships and minister to those families, and those families minister to us.

Filling Your Cup

I recently blogged this and then somehow LOST the post! *sniff* It has taken me a few days to get over it... Now let me try again...

One of the challenges that I have as a church worker is finding time to take care of myself. As I have been thinking about this problem recently, it occurred to me that many young adults probably experience the same problem. We are so busy working, studying, volunteering, taking care of our families, and other things that time management and finding time for ourselves can be a real issue. Many days I hardly have time to spend with my husband--how am I supposed to find time for myself, too???

The problem is that we all need to take care of ourselves in order to truly be successful in the other areas of our lives. I cannot minister to others if I myself am burnt out. I cannot care for my husband or my children in ways that they deserve and need to be cared for if I am too tired. I cannot be a good employee or volunteer if I do not take the time I need to recharge my own batteries.

I had a Christian ethics professor in college named Robert Benne who talked about this as "filling your cup" and "spilling your cup." As Christians, spouses, parents, co-workers, and in many other aspects of our lives, we are constantly demanded to "spill our cup" into various places. We are called to give of ourselves so that other peoples' cups might be filled. However, eventually, we too, will be left with an empty cup. If we don't take the time that we need to fill our own cup, then how successful are we going to be in spilling it out to others?

Here are some ways in which I think I could work toward filling my cup. These are "growing edges" for me--things I see that I need but could become better at doing. Where do you see your own "growing edges" in this list?

1. Eat healthy. This may sound like a no-brainer, because we hear it all the time. But, healthy eating takes work! I love to eat well, and yet the temptations of the office and "easy, quick" food are sometimes overwhelming. It is SO much easier to order a pizza or Chinese take-out at the end of a long day than to cook something. It is so much more fun to eat at Taco Bell with co-workers than have a sandwich in my office! Sometimes, that is OK--I believe in doing everything in moderation. The problem for me recently has been finding the balance. I feel like I am indulging too much and not being attentive enough to what I know is good for me.
   
   
2. Exercise regularly. Again, this may sound like a no-brainer. The thing is, I KNOW exercise is good for me, and I know I feel good when I do it. But, I have a really hard time finding the time to do it. Actually, the truth is, I could find the time to do it, but I would rather be doing something else! When I was in seminary, I ran "religiously" (ha ha). But, I had a partner and it seemed easier to find free time to do it. I really struggle with this one.



3. Take time to just "be". Even when I am home and am supposed to be "relaxing", it seems like there is always something to do. I have a hard time doing nothing. Instead, I find myself doing laundry, washing dishes, surfing the Internet, making the bed, or something. I wish I knew better how to just "be". I would love to be able to sit still with Pandora (our cat) on my lap and read a magazine. Instead, she hates getting on my lap because she knows that it will disappear as soon as I think of something that "has" to be done.



4. Prayer and devotional life. Just because you work in the church doesn't mean this comes easily! I think God and I have a pretty good relationship. I try to really be attentive to where God is speaking in my life. However, I tend to pray and study the Bible "when I think about it," instead of being intentional about doing it on a regular basis. I think there is something to be said for being spontaneous in my relationship with God... I just also think it is healthy to practice regular devotion, Bible study, and prayer.



5. Be intentional in your relationships. Be honest and communicate. If you need time alone, talk to your spouse/friends about it. On the other hand, sometimes spending intentional time in those relationships also helps me fill my cup. There is nothing better than coming home at the end of a long day and talking with my husband over dinner. This is something that ministers to me and also helps maintain and build our relationship. Filling my cup doesn't necessarily have to happen when I am by myself.

There may be some other things that help me fill my cup that I will think of and add to the list later. Right now, I am going to go home and sit on my couch with Pandora.

Are You Having a Quarter-Life Crisis?

This is a post written by Chris, a close friend and member of my tribe, so-to-speak:

Thanks to Becca for allowing me some “soap-box” time here on her blog.

A few weeks ago, I was intrigued by a book that sat in her office entitled Quarterlife Crisis authored by Alexandra Robbins and Abby Wilner, both of Washington, DC. At the time, I thought I too could be having a quarter-life crisis. I had just lost a job, was about to start another one…and, oh yeah, I’m about to become a father. Yeah, I reasoned, I could be having a quarterlife crisis. As I read through the short book, I realized many of the crises addressed where familiar to me. They included finding a job, finding a career, finding a soul-mate, and balancing work and social life among others.

A Quick Book Review

Despite my status as a “twenty-something” and my keen understanding of some of the crises faced by those interviewed for the book, I began to have some misgivings about what I was reading. Several things occurred to me and other things disturbed me. See what you think and post a comment or two.

• There are countless crises in each person’s life. What’s so special or different about the twenty-something crisis? Do any of us remember the “college crisis” when we had to pick “the right” school or lives would be over? What about those of us whose parents have divorced? Was that not a crisis in our lives? Maybe the quarterlife crisis is different because it’s the first real crisis after we get out of school. But that supposes that all change leads to crisis and I’m not ready to admit that. Nevertheless, the authors and those they’ve interviewed seem to place more emphasis on this crisis because so many parts of our lives converge at one time. I think I can buy that, but I also think calling it a crisis is more than a little alarmist.
• My overwhelming feeling throughout the book was that many of these twenty-somethings were busy whining instead of doing. Based on their comments, the interviewees seem much too self-absorbed in their worries and woes, and therefore they forget about others who may be feeling the same or worse. Their self-absorption made them believe that they were on their own – that they were the only ones feeling the way they did. Someone could make the case that self-absorption is endemic to our American culture, but it’s possible that twenty-somethings the world over feel that way. I’ll leave that point to my friends who have traveled the world a bit more than I.
• What I wanted to yell as I read this book is: “IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU!” The world is a big place with lots of people doing lots of things. Sometimes if you just get up the nerve to do something—anything—it can make all the difference in the world. How many times have you done something you didn’t think you liked and found out that, in fact, you did like it. These twenty-somethings seemed so paralyzed by what they were afraid to do that some of them wound up doing nothing.

The authors admit in their epilogue that their critics are likely saying “Stop WHINING!” I laughed when I read that because I definitely felt that way. As my father used to say, “Life’s not fair so deal with it.” His statement wasn’t optimistic or pessimistic; it was realistic.

What about Young Adult Ministry?

So how does this all tie into young adult ministry? It’s a good question. The obvious answer is that Quarterlife Crisis can give its readers a peek into the mind of the young adult. The knowledge gained can be used to develop programs that would appeal to young adults. For instance, the authors make the point that twenty-somethings—for whatever reason—don’t discuss their worries or common struggles with each other. A young adult program at a church where individuals can discuss their common struggles related to jobs, relationships, families and other topics may have practical application in their lives.

Exactly how to do that is the challenge. Most twenty-somethings feel that they can’t even tell their close friends about such things, and going to a young adult program that addresses such things may smell more of therapy than of fellowship. Still, it’s worth trying.

One Last Personal Note

I’ve been attending church pretty regularly since I was in high-school. In high-school it was a social event for me, a place to meet new and exciting people. In college it formed (i) a basis for my faith, (ii) several long-lasting friendships and (iii) a deeper recognition of my strengths and weaknesses. After college it became a home for me—a place I could go and feel at home.

Through it all though, attending services, praying and listening to others helped me remember that I wasn’t alone and it helped me understand that I wasn’t the center of the universe (occasionally it still helps dispel that myth).

I welcome your comments, arguments and any other constructive criticism.