Bats in the Belfry

There’s a joke I have shared amongst my ordained peers…  Wanna hear it?  Here it goes. (I hope you caught that In Living Color reference)

Once upon a time there was a large byzantine church with an equally large ministry staff.  (And no, that’s not the joke.)  Every Sunday as the crowd filled the pews in the ornate sanctuary their chatter was only muffled by the chirping of a rather large population of bats that lived in the belfry.  Fed up with the chatter as only a senior pastor could be (after all, who talks over the pastor’s sermon?) the esteemed clergy climbed up into the bell tower, trapped all the bats, relocated them miles away into a cave.  Rather proud of his endeavors, he returned to the pulpit with a smug appearance only to have it washed away with the return of the excessive chirping noise emanating from the belfry.

The associate pastor said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.”  He, too, climbed the belfry’s ladder armed with a shotgun loaded with powerful blanks.  The confident young man fired off a few rounds into the tower, scattering the bats at once.  Yet, the following Sunday, the chirping was ever more present, ever more powerful – as if the bats were out for revenge.

As it so happened, this gangly, underpaid, part-time, guitar-toting youth minister approached the senior staff and says to the ministers, “I got this.”  He disappeared into the belfry and a short time later reemerged with a polite grin on his face.

The following Sunday morning you could hear a pin drop.  It was so quiet the members didn’t even recognize the pastor’s voice…and neither did he.  The senior pastor and the associate pastor approached the youth minster after worship and excitedly asked, “How’d you do it?!?”

“It was easy,” replied the youth pastor, “I confirmed them.”  (Okay, now you may chuckle.)

This joke has received better mileage than a Prius with a 100 mph tailwind.  Yet every time I tell it I laugh a little less.  I laugh less because there’s a reality that myself and my peers who laugh with me are all to familiar with.  Once we “confirm” our youth, most of them, if not all, disappear from the church.

I used to think this was all a problem with me as a pastor.  What was I doing or saying that estranged these young folk after Confirmation was over?  I’ve wrestled with this question for as many years as I’ve been in ordained ministry…which, altogether now, is only five years.  “Is only five years.”  (I hope you’ve caught the Airplane reference there.  Just don’t call me surely.)

What I have come to learn is that this problem goes beyond the local church setting and into the local church member’s home.  The understanding of Confirmation as more a rite-of-passage than an actual acknowledgment of their parent’s vows at their baptism is one part.  The other part is two-fold.  Part A is the family that perpetuates this ideal that Confirmation is just another ceremony that has to be done because “I did it at that age” or “this is the church that I was confirmed in, too.”  Part B is the local church staff that allows this ideal to be perpetuated without addressing it or, at least, trying to educate the general membership – some may have long  forgotten the meaning behind many of the church traditions and have simply begun to “go through the motions.”

I’ve been witness to families who play Confirmation as “there for when they need it” and then they’re gone.  The only value in the program is just to be “confirmed” – whateverthehell that means.  Whatever promises are made by the youth to participate, to serve, to worship, to be a part of this new church family are only as strong as the investment the parents have in said church.  Little investment equals bats in the belfry.  Greater investment equals…well…a guy like me, even though it took much time to fully maturate.

Keep in mind that I find the local church to be equally as dismissive of confirmation as many parents are.  Even members in these churches have no desire to reframe their own affirmation of baptism to dive into a deeper understanding of relationship with their God.  Sunday morning worship, for lack of a better phrase, is merely “going through the motions.”

I am taking an online coaching course from The Center for Progressive Renewal, based in Atalanta, Georgia.  I heard a statistic that was more disturbing; hardly anyone in our church experience God within the worship service.

We (the Church) are dramatically disconnected in this highly connected world.

I’m not sure the answer.  I find myself wanting to make more rules and structure for a disciplined Confirmation program… which is completely opposite of what my heart speaks is needed.  I want youth to come to me and say, “Pastor Greg, I want to be confirmed this year” without me having to ask for a parent-youth informational meeting at the beginning of the confirmation season.  I want these youth to be mature.  Perhaps more mature than their parents or even me.

Today we celebrated Confirmation Sunday.  Eight youth made commitments to the church.  Six of them I know I’ll see in church through their high school years, at least when their travel sport of choice isn’t playing on Sundays.  Five of them I’m pretty sure I’ll see if they stick around after high school.  Four of them I see as potential leaders.  Two of them have greater potential in ordained ministry.

When I look back on the classes of Confirmation I have had the privilege to lead, my best reflective guess is that roughly 20% of the youth confirmed in the last six years make regular appearances in worship.  Compared to other churches in our denomination, that’s hardly the joke of the bats in the belfry.

But it could be better.

12 days… But who’s counting?