# LCMS Convention Workbook_St. Louis Missouri_2010_S158
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

158

District and Congregational Services

a. They were committed to the inerrant Word.
b. They were determined to work through challenging moments—together.

Neither conviction should surprise anyone. Both are rooted in the
Synod’s first president, Dr. C. F. W. Walther. His purposeful resolve
to judge everything by Scripture, twinned to a determination to walk
and work together with others of the same mind, was at the heart
of his 1848 inaugural presidential address. In it, he openly admitted that some believed the new association was doomed from the
start. It could have been. Trying to organize immigrants from areas
in Germany that had been separated for centuries, Walther asked
the question, “Why should and can we carry on our work together
although we have no power but the power of the Word?” A complete
copy of his eloquent response is preserved in Moving Frontiers (Carl
S. Meyer, editor [CPH 1964], pages 170–76). In it, he said that the
work would be carried on if, together under the Word, the new association would be guided in its life by convincing one another rather
than by resorting to force or control.
In summary, that is how the LCMS started off and then adventured together through the first hundred years of its organizational
life. There were rough spots over those years, but there was also an
awesome catalogue of accomplishments. The fuller story of that first
century is told in numerous books plus pages and pages of regional
and national reports. It is tragic that so many LCMS members know
little about our remarkable past while others have distorted it almost
beyond recognition.
The Synod’s second century opened in the late 1940s as the postwar world was taking shape, GI Generation and all. Many clergy and
lay leaders were concerned in those years about what the face of effective ministry in the future might be. At the same time, there was much
institutional angst about change and about our place in the world of
social/economic/political adjustments. Trying to find our way, we
explored TV, radio, the print media, outreach programs of all sorts,
and new attempts at foreign and domestic missions. Many congregations tested newer organizational models complete with councils,
administrative boards, and committees. There were efforts to expand
and enlarge the role of the laity, male and female alike. At the same
time, internal unrest was developing as it became increasingly apparent that congregations were not all of one kind and that disturbing
demographic realignments were in motion, changing the face of our
congregation’s neighborhoods as well as our congregations themselves. The way church was done appeared to differ from district to
district. Some found that scary.
Reaction? More than a few clergy and congregations assumed a
position of denial: change was not going to happen on their watch,
or, at the very least, it should not. One reason many missed out on
community/congregational transformation was that we had become
embroiled in a battle about Bible versions, in disagreements about
hymn books, in arguing about worship styles, in tension over fellowship questions, in debating the place and value of the Lutheran World
Federation, and in struggles with ever-present internal theological differences over issues real and imagined. While all of this was going
on, we, as an institution, seemed to lose track of what was happening
in the world around us, even though signs of current and imminent
change were everywhere.
On top of all that, there slowly surfaced an uncomfortable recognition that, after years of steady numerical growth, most if not all
indicators of congregational health were in decline. While ignoring
our Synod’s decline in birth rate and in immigrations from those of
the ’30s and ’40s, there were those who saw this falloff as another
indicator of flawed doctrine and practice: not enough theology of the
cross (purity in doctrine) and too much theology of glory (numbers).

Some gloried in our losses, seeing declining numbers as evidence of
doctrinal faithfulness.
Another explanation of the tragedy of declining and dying
churches was to see it all as a matter of chance. Growth or decline
was a matter of being located in the right/wrong places (chance), of
having the right/wrong kind of pastor (chance), of adopting the right/
wrong programs (chance). Few seemed to notice two critical sociological/ecclesial shifts affecting all churches—Lutheran or not—that
that were in motion. Left unattended, these two shifts tell the story
of how hundreds of congregations have been brought to their organizational knees.
The first shift is that LCMS parishes at their best are not cookiecutter clones dealing with the same mission opportunities with the
same style, resources, and experience. The truth is that they can
be, and most often are, different one from another, yet still locked
together in love walking down the same road (synod).
Second, huge generational changes have taken place which are not
only triggered by the changing generational numbers and life expectancy but also by the ways generations interrelate in our crowded (and
getting more so) world.
The Matter of Parish Size and Style
For the first one hundred years, the LCMS was made up of congregations that that came in two sizes: small or large. In either case, they
functioned in essentially the same way. If they could speak loudly
enough, pastors were interchangeable regardless of parish size or
location. All did parish ministry the same way. One size fit all.
After the 1950s, it became increasingly clear that all parishes and
their ministries were not alike. A number of different congregational
types were developing. Some were “preaching stations.” Others were
“family parishes” or “pastor parishes” or “organizational parishes” or
“resource parishes” or “community parishes,” to cite but a few types.
They were what their names suggested. Over time, it became clear
that they were not organized the same way, nor for their health’s sake
could they be. While sharing a common faith, they did not do church
the same way. That stirred institutional unrest and tension.
Further, these different kinds of parishes needed and developed
different kinds of clergy leaders that required a broad range of skills,
many not taught at the seminaries. But the LCMS organizes its congregations geographically, not by size or operational style or mission
intent. In the end, congregations of one given style can find themselves with more in common with similar congregations in another
district than with many congregations in their own districts. Pastors,
in turn, discovered that they were not as effective in one kind of parish as another.
Today there are at least eight different types of congregations in
the LCMS. (Data in support of this assessment has been around for
years.) The pastoral/staff/lay leadership requirements of each type of
congregation are size- and location-specific and can vary markedly
from one congregation to another. In many ways, the most demanding
and complex effective leadership requirements today are for congregations worshiping less than 100 people per Sunday, though even
within that size of parish, the ministry components (e.g., rural, urban,
generational, cultural) vary. The bottom line is that our Synod can
no longer muddle along in this matter. We need to explore it in depth
while there is still time. We need to do this openly and together rather
than covertly and alone.
Recognizing this as a need, many of our larger LCMS congregations are already linking with similar-sized parishes across the nation
in the hope that by working together they can help their pastors and
parishes improve in ministry and outreach effectiveness. This scares
some. They can feel intimidated. Instead of distancing ourselves from
this kind of development, we need to search for ways to rescale and

2010 Convention Workbook

2010 Convention.indb 158

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