Paul Graves: Church tries to save flock from and after fall

A bit of cowboy wisdom to begin today: “Don’t drink downstream from the herd.”

It makes sense to me, even though I can’t recall the last time I lapped up some stream water knowing there was a herd of cattle upstream.

But lately I’ve been thinking a lot about “downstream and upstream” as good images for the kind of ministries our churches, synagogues and mosques need to consider in our contentious society.

I am a clergy member in the United Methodist Church, a denomination traditionally considered to be “mainline.”

That isn’t a theological label as much as it is a sociological locator of where our church has been in American society for decades. “Mainline” and “mainstream” suggest much the same location.

But I don’t think those labels are very helpful anymore, whether for my church or any other one identified as such.

Where does that leave nonmainstream churches? I’m not sure.

Their traditional labels suggest more theological position than social status – evangelical, charismatic, fundamentalist, etc. – but I don’t think those labels serve them any more fairly than those churches labeled as mainline/mainstream.

I would rather describe all churches, synagogues, mosques, and other faith communities in more practical terms, like “downstream” and “upstream.” These terms might pinpoint more of who they are and what they do.

I’ve seen many versions of the following quotation, but they all suggest the same truth. Some years ago, Bishop Edmond Brown observed that “it is good and right that we reach into the river of despair and rescue people who are drowning. But it is time to move upstream and see who’s throwing them in.”

In mid-October, the Leadership Journal blog (www.ChristianityToday.net) spoke of how the Illinois mega-church Willow Creek is making a significant turn in its approach to discipleship development.

Bill Hybels, founding pastor of Willow Creek, confirms their high-energy, programmatic approach isn’t helping people love God or their neighbors as they had hoped. Instead, they will focus more on traditional spiritual practices like prayer, Bible reading and building relationships.

Now, this might not sound earthshaking to you, but it has caused a stir in the churches that try to emulate Willow Creek’s programmatic success.

Programs for the whole family are very desirable in many faith communities. Such an approach makes good marketing sense.

But – and I say this respectfully – Christianity and other world religions were not created from a series of high-profile programs. They grew out of life-changing relationships that were nourished by special spirituality practices that both feed personal souls and nourish faith communities.

In nearly every faith community we do programs or develop social services to assist people. Some succeed, some fail.

What we usually do is what I call “downstream ministries.” We wade in, or reach into, the stream where people are floundering. Then we find a way to pull them out and tend to them.

Downstream ministries are a vital part of what we do as churches. They must continue, because people keep floating downstream to where we’ve staked out our spot.

But if downstream ministries are all we do, then we’re setting ourselves up to failure. If “the herd” is where people are being thrown into the stream, we need to be there to look for the hard solutions to keep those people on shore where they are safe.

Plus, we get so busy doing our programs of education or compassion, we forget there is fresher, nourishing water beyond the herd.

We should take a trip even further upstream to the headwaters, where the water is the freshest and purest. It is there where we will find our spiritual priorities, where we can be refreshed. Then we can once again journey downstream to where we are needed.

Back and forth, downstream and upstream. To experience the presence of God in our lives requires both journeys, sometimes even on a daily basis.