Community sense

The Snapshot of a Congregation

Mark R. Wenger

Chiques Church of the Brethren is located near the town of Manheim, Pennsylvania. Until about four years ago I had never heard of the place. Even then it sounded a bit distant, almost quaint, somewhere out there, one of the innumerable churches that dot the American landscape.

The buzz in recent decades of doing church has seemed to circulate around three models: 1) The mega-church with multiple services and a professional staff serving thousands with first-class production and program standards; 2) The deep church that has rediscovered the ancient forms and melodies of worship, the rich liturgies of sights, sounds, and smells; 3) The emerging, experimenting church looking for new expressions because the usual forms no longer seem to work.

Chiques Church of the Brethren, I discovered one cold gray Sunday in February, fit neither my quaint stereotype nor any of the brands of buzz. Here was a traditional congregation where, when you walked in the door, you sensed a spirit of vitality and joy. This place was happening. A big building project half-way under roof crowded the parking lot.

I learned that Chiques practices something called “free ministry.” Six
ministers, called from within the congregation, share equally in the activities of ministry. They are “free” because they aren’t on salary. One of the six ministers, Mike Hess, was being ordained on the Sunday I visited. He was a former preaching student and had invited me to be a guest.

The visit intrigued me. Chiques COB is not the kind of congregation that trend-setting magazines typically feature. But I found it refreshing in its simplicity and warmth. I felt community, a koinonia of the Spirit. So I recently sat down at their kitchen table with Mike and his wife Denise to find out more and fill in the pencil sketch of that first visit.

First a few salient facts. Attendance for Sunday morning worship averages 375-425. The congregation has been worshipping at the present site for more than 150 years. Attendance and membership have been pretty stable for the last ten years. There is one worship service, rather than two or more, because, in Mike’s words, “We feel pretty strongly that two congregations is not the way to go.”
I learned that this strong sense of community finds expression and is supported through a variety of the congregation’s activities:

• Each of the six ministers is assisted by three deacons. Together they share pastoral care of 65-70 families. All the households of the congregation are networked in this way.

• Deacons visit each member at least once a year. One of the purposes of these visits is to give members the opportunity to talk about their relationship with the congregation and to renew their commitment.

• Twice each year the congregation celebrates Love Feast for all baptized members. To hear Mike and Denise talk, this event is the spiritual highpoint of community: footwashing, a simple fellowship meal, and communion. The next day something called “Second Day Love Feast” follows. That second feast is “the best meal of the year” according to Denise: cheeses, meat, salads and “lots of desserts.” Leftovers are boxed for distribution in the neighborhood.

• Sunday school classes are active. “We are big on service,” remarked Mike. “We like to get our hands dirty as Sunday school classes.” Adult classes are organized according to age, by decade. Those who are 70 or more years old join in what’s sometimes called “The Class Before the Grass.”

• The congregation has council meeting four times a year to discuss and make major decisions.

Mike Hess, who grew up in the congregation, was “called to the ministry” in 2004. Before that, he had been a deacon. One Sunday the moderating minister announced, “We are going to call a minister in two weeks.” The pattern at such a special council meeting is for members to go to a room and “give a name.” The person clearly identified by members as the one being called becomes the new minister.

“I still remember that day vividly,” Mike reminisced. “I wasn’t surprised by the call. I kind of expected it and was ready. When it happened, I asked the other ministers, ‘When do I start?’ They said, ‘You are.’” That quick.

But I wondered: A strong sense of community can be a wonderful thing for insiders and those who are part of the networks. What is it like for the outsider and newcomers? When I asked, Mike and Denise chuckled. “There are in fact one or two main families in the church. It seems like half the church is related!” But they hastened to add that the families don’t have a reputation of controlling things. “I feel blessed,” concluded Mike.

In fact hospitality is one of characteristics that guests often mention with appreciation. I echo the sentiment from my first visit. But the Chiques hospitality extends beyond welcoming strangers and visitors. Mike explained that each person who joins the congregation by baptism or membership transfer is assigned a “faith partner” for the next year to help with their integration and growth.

From my experience as a pastor for twenty years in two congregations, I’m confident in guessing that Chiques has its share of tensions, simmering feuds, and relational frictions. A single Sunday morning visit and a friendly interview with one of the ministers and his wife do not qualify as an investigation.

No congregation is a Swiss watch or Stradivarius violin. A congregation is people. And congregational life is experiential, human, organic, and unpredictable. Sometimes petty, sometime glorious. I’m quite sure that more digging at Chiques would unearth some dirty laundry—but also more treasures.

The interview with Mike and Denise Hess did exceed my expectations, however, in one key way. All I had to go on before talking with them was a first impression from the earlier visit. What surprised me in our conversation was the care and variety of ways by which the congregation intentionally weaves the core value of community into their practices. Community isn’t lip service or pasted-on veneer; it is part of the congregation’s DNA.

Ministry is shared equally; there is no lead or senior pastor (although there is a moderator). The congregation grows its ministers from within. Each household is visited at least once a year; anonymity in a crowd is not church. The congregation marks their bonds of faith and love with special rituals of service, worship, and feasting. Ongoing Sunday school classes provide settings for greater intimacy and focused mission.

Chiques Church of the Brethren is a traditional, more rural congregation. In the sweep of social and religious diversity, it would probably be on the conservative side of the spectrum but without the hard edges and militancy. At the beginning of our interview Mike made a telling remark: “Each church has importance in God’s kingdom.”

Reflecting on the range of diversity in the broader Church of Brethren, he grinned, and shrugged his shoulders. “We realize our differences. That is them and this is us. We don’t have much in common. But we gather at Annual Conference and try to work together on things we can.”

In church circles these days there is a lot of ferment and talk about reinventing faith communities. Many people express a sense of urgency to try something new. Chiques COB provides a helpful reminder that moving forward means more than stretching toward the ever-promising new. Looking to the future is also enriched by leaning back, rediscovering tried and true patterns and practices of community building.

How does a children’s swing begin to move? By leaning back and kicking forward at the same time. That’s a pretty good metaphor for doing church.

—Mark R. Wenger, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, is Director of Pastoral Studies for Eastern Mennonite Seminary at Lancaster.