Stats don’t lie (Jn. 14:23–29)

This week, I returned from my first time away from you since being installed at the start of February of this year. During that time, Olivia and I enjoyed a short holiday in Western Australia before returning to SA. We didn’t come straight home, though–we stayed in the Barossa, where I attended my first District Pastors Conference and Convention of Synod as a pastor.

I have to say, it was a surreal feeling to now belong among the other pastors of the district as a colleague. I’ve grown up having family friends that just happened to be pastors like dad. They’ve always been normal blokes with an abnormal job–in many ways, my perception hasn’t changed.

There was a theme that ran as a common thread through all three days. Our bishop, David Altus, painted the picture that is the current context of the LCA. Fewer active pastors, fewer people in our churches, yet a stable number of congregations calls for collaboration.

At Synod, he mentioned:

• The congregations at Murray Bridge who have decided to come together after years of division.

• Concordia College has decided to bring St Peter’s, a small school in the Adelaide Hills, under its wing.

• Lutheran Aged Care homes at Glynde, Fullarton, and Hope Valley have decided to combine their management.

• New partnerships are being forged with Lutheran Disability Services.

• A whole new Chinese congregation in Adelaide has decided to join the LCA in its own right.

• The Adelaide Deaf Community Church at Magill is training its own pastor for that particular ministry.

I’ll also add that talks are taking place between the congregations in Tanunda, whose main street is vacant for the first time in history.

Across our district, and across the wider church, something is happening that has effectively been forced upon us, but we are grabbing with both hands nonetheless: collaboration.

Our Assistant Bishop for Mission, Steve Schultz, also gave a report both to the pastors and then to the district synod’s delegates. He’s a man who loves to give statistics because stats don’t lie. We had over 100 active pastors in the SA-NT District in 2017. We now have 74 pastors for 91 parishes and 170 congregations. Where this is at its most sobering is in the mid-upper north zone of our district, from Eudunda to Roxby Downs, plus the Yorke Peninsula, where there are 10 parishes, 30 congregations, and 3 pastors.

Looking at upcoming retirements, Bishop Schultz projects that we’ll be down to 50 pastors within 3–5 years. We now have 24 vacancies in our district, including our own College. There are currently 3 students in their final year at ALC–and they are for the whole church.

Both of our bishops suggested that this situation we now find ourselves in is a serious problem. It’s very simple to see what we lack, what we are missing as a district and as a church. Stats don’t lie.

When Jesus told his disciples on the night of his betrayal that he was about to leave them, they felt sad and hopeless. They saw Jesus as their Saviour, they heard that he was leaving them, and they felt that they were about to lose everything. Their hearts were troubled and afraid.

All they can see is what is being taken away. They have relied on Jesus’ direction and provision for three years. They gave up everything to be with him.

It raises the question for us: what have we sacrificed to get here? How hard have we worked to get our church to this point?

I can’t say I know what it felt like to go without a permanent pastor for two whole years. I can only imagine the disappointment when a call was rejected, when the call process had to be started all over again. I wonder if you would go as far as saying it felt hopeless.

The blunt truth is that most of our district, and most of our church, has tasted that same disappointment recently. Some still are, like our College. Some are just about to now that pastors are starting to take calls and move around again. Some will very soon.

The disciples feared that Jesus’ departure could mean the end of the whole movement. After all of the healings, miracles, teaching, and travelling, is this it? Have we had our time in the sun? Will we look back on this time as our glory days?

Has our LCA had its time in the sun? As numbers continue to diminish, is this congregation about to diminish into something far smaller and less financially secure? Have we lived through our glory days? Is it all downhill from here?

Stats don’t lie, and what they tell us is that if we follow our current trajectory without some kind of drastic intervention, we’ll be cooked before 2030.

This isn’t just an LCA thing, but a common trend across denominations. Is this the first time the church has been under pressure? Is what we are about to face unprecedented? The most overused word of the last 2 years...

No. This is not the first time the Christian church has faced extreme difficulty. This is not the first time the Christian faith has been challenged. This is not the first time that churches have had to look at alternative ways of being the body of Christ.

Before the Christian church was even born, its existence was under serious threat. That night with the disciples, the whole Jesus movement could have been over. When Jesus was captured, they scattered. The day after his death, all they could do was lock themselves inside. Even after Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, which we remember today, Christians were intensely persecuted by the Roman Empire. Many died confessing their faith in Christ.

From looking at the history of the church, it’s completely reasonable to say this: the church has been most true to itself and most focussed on Christ when it has been under pressure.

The book of Acts is full of proof. Just take Peter’s sermon in Acts 2 as an example. Jesus ascends to heaven–he is no longer with his disciples. But, just as he had promised, the Holy Spirit fell on them and the many others that were with them.

Peter stands up and preaches pure gospel, quoting bits of the Old Testament from all over the place to show them that absolutely everything they had ever known from Scripture is all directed to that one man, Jesus. It was a decent sermon, clearly– 3000 baptisms then and there.

Against all odds, an unorganised group of average people in Israel becomes a community of thousands. And all because of what? Peter’s flawless analysis of the Old Testament?

No sermon–no matter how convincing or engaging–can turn that many hearts at once. Not by itself anyway.

Jesus says: “But the advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and remind you of all that I have said to you.”

Jesus did not ascend to heaven without a parting gift. Jesus said that the disciples should be glad to hear that Jesus is going to the Father. Glad because he is about to equip them with something that isn’t limited to a human body. Glad because the Spirit is someone to help us, to pray for us, and to advocate for us. Jesus could only ever be in one place at a time, but the Spirit is in the hearts of all believers.

The stats don’t lie. By the numbers, we are in trouble. But what stats don’t tell us, however, is what God is doing with us and for us. The stats don’t account for drastic, divine intervention. Statistics or any kind of logic or projections do not account for the work of the Holy Spirit.

As we face an unknown future, now is as good a time as any to remember whose church this is. This place was built with human hands, maybe even your hands. This place works in the way that we make it work, with its groups and programs and governance. Those that gather here are people who have stories and gifts to bring here. It’s very easy to think that it belongs to us, that it is our right to say what goes on here. It’s also very easy to feel like it’s on us when things go south.

Remembering that the owner of this church, this congregation, even this building, is Christ, who is Lord of the church, is a relief. When we let go of our tight grip of our perception of what we think the church should be, we find that good things start to happen. It’s not dependent on you. Neither is it dependent on me. The future of our church, of this congregation, is entirely dependent on the Holy Spirit.

This is a good news/bad news situation. The good news is that the pressure is not on you to keep this place together. We trust God to handle that. The bad news is that the Spirit works through people–that might just be you. And some more bad news: it might change.

Our bishops both said that our current trajectory is not sustainable if we do not start to collaborate. We must work together as a church to share God’s message of hope with the world. What could collaboration look like for us? Who have we got around us that we can partner with in the gospel? What are we missing that others might be able to help us with? These are the questions we must ask ourselves as we go forward.

I don’t believe that God is calling us to be aggressive with our message or force anything on anyone. Hear Jesus’ words to his disciples: Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled, nor be afraid.

“Peace” doesn’t mean, “Go and relax. I’ll let you know when I need you.” This peace is a state of being right with God. It’s an assurance that what Christ has done for you is enough to cover all of our shortcomings as a church. It’s hope in God’s promise that he will never leave or forsake us. It’s a firmness in faith.

This peace is a gift to us that we can’t get from anywhere else. Even if the statistics do turn around one day, they won’t give us peace–only self-confidence and a false sense of security.

With less pastors, less people, and less certainty, it’s very easy to lose hope based on what we don’t have. What God is doing with us as a church is reminding us of the precious gift we do have: salvation in Christ’s death and resurrection, and the help of the Holy Spirit to remind us of that. Why do we think we need anything else?