Purchase Power Surge at Augsburg Fortress

From Chapter 1 (pre-publication version):
Chapter 1: Making the Move from Membership to Discipleship

It was one of those moments I'll never forget. It happened on a Sunday in spring, and like the season, it too had to do with newness.

My associate pastor and I found we worked well together as a team, and our congregation's membership was nearing one thousand people. We felt both grateful and confident. On this particular Sunday, however, I was in for a shock. As I looked out with pride on that growing, vibrant, worshipful congregation, I suddenly realized that there were individuals and families who were joining the church whose names I did not know, in whose homes I had not visited. I was stunned. I felt as if the world had changed overnight and I was just discovering it. I was shaken to the core, because my guiding model of ministry-that of being a personal pastor for each parishioner-was no longer viable.

My model for ministry also included focusing on church growth through increasing membership. Evangelism was a matter of bringing people into the church and then tending to their spiritual needs. But how could I do that if I didn't even know them? My associate was very capable. He'd been in many of their homes and knew many of their names. But, as he later confessed, many he didn't know well at all.

Although I didn't realize it at the time, my paradigm for ministry was being significantly challenged. That Sunday, with its sudden insight, was the beginning of my move from a focus on membership to a focus on discipleship.

My training had taught me only one way to do ministry and to judge its effectiveness-call it themembership model of ministry. If the membership was growing and happy-and they seemed to be-then my ministry was successful. The model with which I had been working wasn't all about numbers, though. I also assumed that the pastoral staff's effective pastoral care was a necessary element to our spiritual health and vitality. I assumed that personally knowing the names and families and, as much as possible, the histories of those who attended and joined our church was an essential element in my ministry. I taught confirmation, attended the women's lunches, played golf and racquetball with the men, led a number of Bible studies-all in an attempt to be a personal pastor to as many as possible.

In a growing church with more and more members to be served, this is a certain prescription for clergy burnout. The reason many churches don't grow-or stop growing-is that the pastoral staff reaches its limit for personal care and then, consciously or unconsciously, creates a climate and systems that discourage growth.

Roots of the Membership Model
For decades, the membership model of the church has dominated American Protestantism. That model lingers as an adaptation of the village church system that existed in premodern western Europe. In the village, the pastor or priest served as the holy man for the whole community. He was responsible for serving the spiritual and often material needs of parish families at important life passages, such as birth, confirmation, marriage, critical illness or injury, and death.

The relationships of individuals and families to God were mediated through the rites of the church as administered by the village pastor. The pastor received a certain amount of prestige and the power that goes with it-often a great deal, depending upon his abilities-and the people received the assurance of connectedness to God as the pastor shared the sacraments, led worship, provided personal pastoral care, and in general tended to the spiritual life of the community.

To be a pastor or priest also was to be in the center of village life. A pastor's relationship to the village served as a cohesive force in the identity of the community, and the pastor often played an important role in affirming and upholding the identity of individuals and families as members of the church and citizens of the village itself. Beliefs, values, and behaviors were articulated by the clergy in ways that shaped the larger community as well as the church. As such, the ministry of the church and the role of the clergy functioned like social glue as well as a source of spiritual solace.

For many modern Christians, particularly in the post-World War II era, the membership model of the church functioned in an analogous way. The congregation provided social as well as spiritual connections. Church was a place to meet others with whom one could confidently do business, share friendship, and uphold similar values. There were clear understandings of what membership in such a community of faith required. It meant giving some of one's time and finances to keep the organization going and to pay the pastor's salary. It meant not only accepting that ministry belonged to the minister but also expecting to be ministered to. It meant acting in a manner consistent with conventional morality and appropriate behavior. Church membership was akin to good citizenship. It created a significant sense of personal identity, and with that came the confidence that the church was both preserving values that were necessary for the health of the larger community and nation as well as playing an important role in efforts to improve society.

No wonder the post-World War II years saw an explosion in the number of congregations in the United States. The successful completion of the war itself was understood to have been accomplished through a sturdy faith in God and the concerted effort of Americans working together for a common goal. The individual, it was understood, could make his or her best contribution by being a contributing member of a group, and the membership of the mainline churches grew exponentially.