Old Habits Die Hard

I have change on my mind these days. Why? Because I hardly go to a meeting without it being the centerpiece of conversation. And yet so little around me seems to change. Old habits die hard.

We're supposed to be Lutherans, the church of the Reformation. We preach sermons on semper reformanda, "always renewing," a hallmark of the new life we claim God is constantly gifting to us. But old habits die hard. Here's the discussion about change that swirls about the work I do:

• The college board on which I serve just spent a day on the concept of "disruptive innovation."
• Another board hired a consultant to spend two years working with us on "adaptive change"--a major change--as opposed to "technical change"--tweaking and improving what we've always done.
• The ELCA launched "Living Into the Future Together" (LIFT) to consider adaptive change for how we "do church."
• Our synod passed a deficit budget last year with an intent to think more deeply about budgets and priorities for ministry as adjustments are made, bringing recommendations to the 2013 assembly.  

Just so you know: I'm not a junkie for change. Ask my wife how excited I get about re-arranging the furniture (not) or tossing out old clothes (hardly ever). I recognize that churches and organizations are reluctant to change because letting go of the past patterns of life means letting go of things that have been valuable and still remain so, and are the reasons lots of people feel engaged with the church or organization.

So I do approach change with a healthy respect for the past. Lots of folks in the church are like me. We feel engaged and nurtured by what is, and we're reluctant to let it go and leap into what might be.

But we need to take that leap, of course, and even folks like me can rehearse the larger reasons why we have to change. Pruning makes the plant healthier. But old habits die hard. We like the old branches. We've climbed on them, swung on them. And we want them there.

When the synod assembly last year dealt with the flat budget by dipping into reserves for a year and assigning the synod council the task of thinking more deeply about ministry priorities, such examination actually happened. We gathered information about the patterns of synod life and funding that were put in place 25 years ago that haven't changed much. We called together a consultation of 40 people last fall from the six synods in Minnesota and the partnerships we support together. We looked at the changed patterns of church life, the movement to decentralization that has swept through both church and culture.

We saw that the weakened ability to support ministries out of a central funding collection point has given way to an astounding array of ministries that have sprung up organically, at the congregational level, and have increasingly called on the synod to be the connective tissue and supportive infrastructure even as the synod's ability to be a prime funder has diminished. This synod's companion synod relationships are clear examples. Many of you are aware of the changes now underway with our Bega Kwa Bega work in Tanzania, with implications for learning how better to undergird Guatemala work as well. The times have changed. The life of the church has changed.

In January, the synod council culminated this work with a series of actions that in some places recommend funding shifts, in other places shoring up central functions, and in other places calling for consultations with ministry partners to explore together re-arranging the church furniture a bit. That set of recommendations and the background information and rationale for the changes can be found in a document, Thinking More Deeply about Budgets and Priorities for Ministry. My comments in my report to the January synod council meeting--the meeting that considered these matters--ended with this observation:

As I give this report a final once-over before it is sent out, I'm returning from the annual Bishops' Academy, hosted this year by the Caribbean Synod in Puerto Rico, with presentations about the church's ministry at the margins, the changing demographics of our society, and what that means for the church of the future. It was a reminder to me that even in the proposals we are immersed in at this time in the life of the church--and, for that matter, at this meeting--we are barely scratching the surface of the magnitude of the change going on around us, to which we must respond.

We speak of adjusting 2.5 percent mission support proportion or adjusting our public policy or campus ministry work, while at the same time seeking to understand how to best respond to what God is doing in our relationships between our people and people in Africa. Those, my friends, are very hard, and yet they are mere tweaks when one wonders about the sea change now moving in the world. I hope we are not afraid to be bold in beginning this journey, to let go, and to recognize that we will be letting go of things that have worked well in the past. It is OK to lament that passing. But Beth's metaphor about pruning and gardening is both applicable and biblical and should give us courage to embrace change--and with it, risk.

The Old Testament theologian Walter Brueggemann says lament precedes relinquishment, which then opens the door to a new future. And we have been promised that the God who claims us will always be about this activity: "Behold, I make all things new!"

May it be so among us. I have been gratified by the engagement you as a council and executive committee have shown in these past months. You have shown a willingness to look with fresh eyes and see health and possibility, rather than to be discouraged by the need to reposition, rethink, cut back here, and expand there. We are still an enormously gifted church and synod. You have shown yourselves to be good and thoughtful and courageous leaders. We have a strong staff, creative congregations, wonderful rostered and lay leadership--all of which means the passing of old forms may well be a time of discovery of the new things God is going among us.

It is true, old habits die hard. I know there will be quick reaction against a number of proposals. But as I said to the synod council, I hope we are also aware of the importance of being willing to risk that reformation is also a gift of God, and that the life of this church comes, indeed, by the Spirit.

I will draw attention to these proposals briefly at the conference assemblies February 9, and of course they will be before you all at the synod assembly. Just as the council members have deliberated and acted, so now will we all. I pray that as we do so we are aware of God's guiding hand and confident that however we sort out our life organizationally, God moves in the world through this wonderful and mysterious body of Christ.

It's a privilege to be on that journey with you all.

Peter Rogness

Bishop