The Parable of the Church on the Hill

The little church on the hill was a happy place for many years. The people who established the church had built a beautiful building. There was gold trim, exquisite stained glass windows, and marble floors. The place perpetually smelled of lilies and roses.

For years, the church was the tallest structure in the area. The steeple could be seen for miles away. The people remembered fondly that Jesus said, “A city on a hill cannot be hid.”

Over time, other people moved into the area, and began building new buildings. Some were bigger and taller than the little church. Some were shinier and flashier. Some had bigger signs, and others had more contemporary flourishes.

But nothing was as beautiful as the little church. It sat on the hill proudly, proclaiming its good news.

As the taller buildings began to press in on the little church on the hill, the people who built the church began to worry. They worried that they couldn’t be seen anymore.  They fretted that their steeple wasn’t as tall as the newest cell tower or the nearest department store billboard. Fewer people came into their doors, even though the church was still beautiful.

One day, someone read that Jesus said that those who fed the hungry and gave shelter to the homeless were serving him. They wanted to serve Jesus, so they decided to invite hungry homeless people to their beautiful building. A line soon formed in front of their doors.

But there was a problem. The homeless people didn’t have shoes, and their feet were dirty — what would happen to the church floors? They didn’t smell very good either — wouldn’t that be an offense to the sacred space? They also didn’t speak or behave logically or rationally. In fact, they were more trouble than they were worth.

So the church closed its doors and said, “Never mind.”

The church members didn’t feel good about what happened; they sighed loudly with regret.

One day, someone read that Jesus once said, “Let the little children come to me.” Another person said, “Children are the future of the church, so let’s welcome them.” So the church invited all the children in their village to come. A line soon formed in front of their doors.

But there was a problem. The children were rowdy. They were loud when they got into the building and the sound ricocheted off the walls and down the stairways — how could anyone hear themselves think, much less pray? They were messy — who would clean up the paper off the floors? They also didn’t speak or behave logically or rationally. In fact, they were more trouble than they were worth.

So the church closed its doors and said, “Never mind.”

The church members didn’t feel good about what happened; they sighed loudly with regret.

One day, someone read that the Bible directs people to welcome strangers, aliens, and immigrants. Another person said, “We should invite immigrants to our church, especially families who have been separated at the border.” So the church invited all the immigrants in the village to come. A line soon formed outside their doors.

But there was a problem. The immigrants spoke a foreign language — who would translate them? Some of them were also illegally in the country — should the church support lawlessness? Some needed legal support. In fact, they were more trouble than they were worth.

So the church closed its doors and said, “Never mind.”

The church members didn’t feel good about what happened; they sighed loudly with regret.

One day, someone reminded them that there were a lot of young single adults moving into the village. Another person said, “Let’s invite them to our church. They’re professionals without children, so they’re likely to be easier to manage. They smell good and dress well. They speak English. They also have jobs in the big city so they can help us pay to keep our building beautiful.”

Everybody thought this was a fine idea, much better than the ones they’d had before. So the church invited all the young single adults in the village to come. A line soon formed outside their doors.

They threw open the doors and the young single adults came in and filled the building. They served fancy coffee with long names and gave everyone access to free Wifi. 

But there was a problem. One of the young single adults asked, “Where are the homeless?” Another asked, “Where are the children?” And another asked, “Where are the immigrants? This doesn’t seem like much of a church to me. Why does everybody here look and speak and smell exactly the same?” The rest of the young single adults nodded in agreement.

Slowly they filed out the door and returned to the village.

Questions to ponder: What does the future of the church on the hill look like? What does it do now? What will restore the church’s beauty and dignity?

The Seven Most Common Words in Church

Preachers like to joke that the most common seven words in the church are, “We haven’t done it that way before.” 

You may chuckle at that line; I think I may have even used it in a sermon.

But I think there’s a new “most common seven words” in the church. They are: “How do we reach the young folks?”

I hear it all the time in conference gatherings, and in clergy circles, and even in various meetings at Kessler Park UMC. And with good reason. A few years ago, the average age of the United Methodist member in the pews was 57 years old, and that trend has been in an upward swing for years.

It should be obvious that an aging membership will eventually do what most aging things do — die. 

That’s why so many people in the church are worried. We rightly are concerned that the witness of Methodism in particular, and the gospel of Jesus Christ in general, would be diluted by closing churches and diminished denominations. We rightly want to share the saving and transforming power of Jesus with our children and their children. Jesus has made a difference in our lives, and so we want future generations to have the same experience.

So we ask, “How do we reach the young folks?”

I have a few opinions on this matter.

First of all, we need to stop asking this question. It’s awfully patronizing. I’ve never met a young person who wanted to be “reached” by a church. That terminology is a little creepy. Can you imagine walking into a church and being told, “Aha, we’ve been looking to find people like you …”?

Furthermore, nobody wants to be called “young folks,” or “young people,” or “millennials,” or “snowflakes,” or “whipper-snappers.” They would prefer to be known as what they are — your neighbors. 

Besides, think about how this question sounds to the other people who sit in your pews. How does this sound to those who don’t consider themselves “young folks”? What about the visitors who are on the other side of maturity, but are still looking for a church home? Are we not as eager to welcome them?

Second, the question itself indicates a lack of confidence in our message and mission. The problem, as framed by this question, appears to be that our age-old message has become a little old-fashioned and needs to be dressed up, modernized, and made more “appealing,” “attractive,” or “entertaining.” This approach treats the gospel as a religious “good” that we must package and market to the masses, like a consumer product. It frames the Methodist faith as a kind of “lifestyle choice” that one can choose amidst a long list of competing churches. It makes us want to improve our labels and spruce up the packaging — “Come see our fantastic children’s ministry!” or “We’ve got world-renowned music!”

In other words, when we ask, “How do we reach the young folks?” what we are actually saying is that we are afraid that the gospel of Jesus Christ is really not enough. We are saying that we are not sure that God is really doing something powerful among us and in us. We are basically admitting that we’re not sure that the Holy Spirit is at work in our church anymore. 

I believe that what young folks, and old folks, and everyone in-between, really want from church is an experience with God. That’s what I want. Isn’t that what you want?

And I want to be part of a church community that believes that every time we gather for worship, or work alongside the poor in a mission project, or sit around a table for fellowship, that Jesus shows up, and something powerful happens.

In the end, the only thing that will make our church attractive to anyone is the presence of church members who are fully alive in Christ, who have seen God at work in their world, and are in the process of being shaped and transformed by God. The reason why anyone will ultimately be drawn to KPUMC is because they see God in you and me.

Let’s stop asking, “How can we reach the young folks?” Please.

Instead, ask yourself, “What is God doing in me?”