It’s like living Groundhog Day every Sunday, as fewer people attend each time. Each week, more friends and Sunday School members are gone. You keep asking if they are sick or on vacation, only to be told that they have chosen to attend another church. It’s like I am attending the same funeral every week, and I can’t keep the sorrow at bay. I feel there should be something I can do to change it, and I pray mightily for the Lord to intervene. Still recovering from back surgery doesn’t help, as I can’t do as much as I would like to help.
My husband and I joined this church in 2023, but because my style of worship was too enthusiastic for many in the predominantly White congregation, in agreement with my husband, I joined a Black Baptist congregation where I served as an associate minister and could worship freely, moving, raising my hands in praise, and saying “Amen” or “Hallelujah” as I had been taught. Then, after about three or four months, my husband asked me to return to worshiping with him, so I did in late 2024, only to find a depleted church.
Where there had been about 20-25 in my Sunday School class and maybe 100-125 for worship, now we barely have 30 people in the congregation, and my Sunday School class, where I teach, is down to maybe four to six, on a good Sunday. I am preaching this week, and I have been asked to make my sermon brief, as the Church Council, of which I am a member, needs to inform the church that we have funds for just six more months before we must consider closing the church.
I am heartbroken, but I have known that the church can’t continue as is. Those of us who participate in teaching, preaching, liturgy, and administrative work are tired. Our new pastor joined us in July and is now on sabbatical for six weeks, needing time off because she has two churches to lead and is grieving the loss of her beloved husband. I sometimes don’t want to attend, for fear that someone else I love is gone, as happened a couple of weeks ago when one of my Sunday School students moved to another church.
It is demoralizing, depressing, and painful, but when I preach on Sunday, I will remind us all that we are still to be lights of God’s love. We must continue to live fearlessly, like King David in Psalm 27, remembering that the Lord is still our light, salvation, and strength, whether at this church or another. But, you don’t learn how to mourn for a church because no one expects a vibrant church to just die over politics, doctrine, or who people choose to love. It makes no sense when we are to love all people, for God invites everyone to come and bring their burdens to Him and rest, and surely that invitation is not meant only for some.
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