The Hearth of a Community

For seven years I was a worship director at a small church in Bridgman, Michigan. At our highest, attendance was 48. There weren't many of us, but we were family and still are in each others' lives.

In 2014, we moved into an historic church building right in the middle of downtown that was built around 1876; during the reconstruction era of our country. Although it had a new roof, it was in pretty rough shape. The windows badly needed to be replaced, the basement flooded and had crumbling asbestos tile, and we were constantly getting notices about our boiler needing to be updated. Squirrels had taken over the bell tower and had carved their own apartments into the nooks and crannies of the exterior. One time, a squirrel ran through the sanctuary and had to be trapped in a Sunday school room so we could catch and release it!

Regardless of the issues the structure had, I loved sitting in the sanctuary in silence or playing on the grand piano because I knew it to be a place I could go to hear my Father's heart beat; and I know it has been the same for generations in the community.

I had a meeting with the city manager, back in 2018, to see if there was a way we could find city funding to fix the exterior of the church building. During the meeting we pulled up an aerial view of Bridgman. Something struck me when I saw it: Our church was in the very center and it was apparent that the town had been built around this one building, as if the homes and businesses were beings that stood around a hearth trying to be warmed by it's fire - the love of God.

I often imagined the prayers that were lifted in that country cathedral, in the glow of it's tall stained glass on either side. The walls and pews had heard many praises and petitions over the decades. They witnessed as a generation of Bridgman residents cried out for restoration and healing after the Civil War and the pleas for food and resources during the Great Depression. They watched as people embraced mothers whose children were lost during WWI. They heard rejoicing on V-Day at the end of WWII and when sons came home from Vietnam. This small building hosted over 140 Christmas Eve services and welcomed frigid townspeople inside with it's candles, carols, comfort and joy. It has been a beacon for many and community flourishes when it prays together.

Another example of this is that there are literally hundreds of communities in Britain with names that begin with "Kil". This prefix comes from the word "cell" which refers to a hermit's place of prayer. Not surprisingly, towns and cities grew up around these solitary prayer warriors or small group of friends that decided to abandon their homes to live a life of intercessory prayer, praise and support. Thus, igniting a church. And, over time, more people gathered at the hearth, where someone started a fire, to join them. This led to the eventual development of their own communities, culture, and support systems. They flourished because they prayed together.

I began to formulate some questions about the position of church in modern society and how prayer and community fit into our postmodern culture. It seemed to me that before we had contemporary transportation the church meant something different to a population. When it was not possible to travel 20 miles for a church service, the town came together, at it's center, to pray. They had to come stand around the closest "fire" to find support, friendship, and help. Now, since traveling is not an obstacle for many, has the meaning of church shifted some?

We still gather around the hearth together and are warmed by the heat that the fire of God gives us, but we are now able to travel to a place that fits what we like; a place that suits our needs better. Therefore, putting more of a focus on programming. We aren't forced to stay in a church situation that we don't want to be in. We don't always see our neighbors every week and share in their lives in the same way. The community doesn't, typically, all come together to one place to pray and lift God's name.

Not all of this is necessarily bad. Believe me, I've taken advantage of some of these modern day trends myself. I just wonder if maybe the shift into a more "come and go/does it suit me?" mentality has contributed to the lack of community and friendship that the general population experiences today and the growing feeling of loneliness. Did it scatter the fire a bit? Are we flourishing?

Maybe our focus needs to shift back to our primal call as people of God. Maybe we need to think of our church buildings as family rooms at the hub of our neighborhood (literally or figuratively); A haven where we can congregate to clasp hands and approach the throne of the Almighty together; A place where prayers are the hot coals that fuel us and we are more intentional about noticing and welcoming the ostracized and the vulnerable around us; A home where encouragement, intercession, and worship can rise like smoke from a chimney.

I know there are many churches who are still functioning this way and are flourishing because of it. This is not my attempt to offer any answers, just my open thoughts. But I do believe it's important to take cues from our predecessors. As Christians in a postmodern culture, we need to stop doing and focus on being in deeper togetherness.

~Lord, we pray that we will love those around us well in your name. May the glow of your fire radiate and draw our neighbors in. May we gather at the hearth with open arms, embracing one another through our hardships until our day or the Day arrives. Amen~

• Hebrews 10:24-25

• "And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching."