My throat tightens as I enter into my imaginary therapist’s office. I dread giving her the news, but I think it’s time to tell her.
I’ve decided to end my imaginary therapy sessions with the church.
“Oh?” the therapist says, unable to hide her disappointment. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was it something I said?”
“Not at all,” I say. “I appreciate all you’ve done, really. I’m just starting to think that we’ve gone as far as we can go in these sessions.”
“I see,” she says. “So have you and your church resolved your issues?”
“Not exactly. But I think I’m starting to understand some things.”
She poises her pen atop her notepad. “Let’s get to the heart of your new discoveries. What would you like to talk about?”
“Death,” I say.
Modern-day prophet
My friend Luka has the frumpy look of a college professor, but the heart of Elijah beats in his chest. Sometimes he scoffs in full view of the prophets of Baal, screaming out for those who call on the Lord to return to his paths. Other times he runs into a cave to hide, convinced he’s the only one left who cares.
Luka loves the United Methodist Church, but believes truth is best served without sugarcoating. So when he makes his case that the UMC is dying, he doesn’t try to soften the blow.
Not that there’s any gentle way to examine the numbers: Membership, attendance and average age all support Luka’s grim diagnosis. Add to that a looming clergy crisis, and things look bleak indeed.
But Luka’s message has begun to prompt a response. Some of our church leaders are addressing our decline, planning strategies and launching initiatives to restore the church to vitality.
Unfortunately, the key word here is “restore.” We throw our time and money at resources that promise to package Methodism better for the 21st century. We are glad to try new things as long as they produce a stronger version of the same church we’ve always had.
That attitude makes Luka want to call down fire from heaven, but I can’t overly fault my church for its wariness. To ask the UMC to radically alter her identity and transform into something she can’t now imagine may feel like death, and I’ve heard plenty of Methodists admit they’d rather die than change. At least they’re honest.
But slow attrition is just as sure a way to death as any other—and it offers no hope of resurrection.
My church isn’t sure she has the courage to live beyond herself, but knows she doesn’t want to die. Who can help her stave off death? I’m afraid the answer is nobody.
Not even Jesus.
“Wait!” my imaginary therapist says. “You’ve lost me. You wait until now to tell me that you don’t believe in Jesus?”
“That’s not what I mean. I do believe in Jesus, more than I believe in anything else.”
“Then why don’t you think he could save your church from death?”
“Well, tecnically he could do it. I just don’t think he will.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s the one calling us to die.”
No matter how much we are committed to our own survival, we cannot ignore Jesus’ call to share in his death so that we may share in his life. If we throw our resources into saving our own lives, we’ll still die. But if we give up our lives for the sake of following our Lord, we’ll find a new and better life given back to us.
Sound familiar? It should.
My relationship with the UMC has given me so much. But one of its most important gifts is teaching me that when I give without regard to cost, I am most like Jesus. I’m slow to learn the lesson, but I know I don’t have to worry about my own survival. In fact, my death might clear the way for God’s saving work in a way that my life never could.
Understand, I’m not suggesting that Methodism is or should be dead; only that by putting our commitment to live like Jesus above our own survival, we might find a life that’s truer than the one we worry about losing.
I want that kind of mindset to define who I am. I want to develop the daredevil courage that drew me to United Methodism. I want to live a life shaped by the cross, confident that no death can reach beyond Christ’s resurrection.
Need church's help
Ironically, I can only do that if my church helps me. I’m not brave enough or strong enough. I need her to help me find the footsteps of Jesus. I need her to walk with me. Otherwise, neither of us will live a life of any meaning or importance.
I don’t want my church to die. But if avoiding death is her priority, she’ll never really live.
I still love the United Methodist Church. Lots of us do, including many young adults. Occasionally, when I glimpse the loveliness that first drew me into this union, it reminds me that the bride of Christ is lovely indeed.
Whatever mental exercises in imaginary therapy I may engage in with the church, I know I am not the suitor she craves. Rather, I am a part of her, and with her, I long for the favor of the Lord.
I honestly don’t know what the future holds for my relationship with the UMC. We’ve yet to find much common ground. Still, we yearn for Christ together and we try to be gracious toward one another. For today, that’s enough.
What tomorrow holds is still anybody’s guess.
The Rev. Van Meter is campus minister for the Wesley Foundation at Arkansas State University in Jonesboro, Ark.
Eric Van Meter
