Traditional vs. Contemporary - Christianity Today

This case study raises a critical question: How does a pastor help his or her congregation through an identity crisis without blowing apart the church? Harderwyk Church in Holland, Michigan, had to rediscover its identity when two styles of worship began to compete. This case explains why the crisis came to the fore and how Harderwyk and its council and pastor, Wayne Brouwer, tried to resolve it. Your church’s size, polity, or leadership style may be different, but we felt the underlying issues of finding congregational identity were important for any church’s health. As you read the case, consider how you would approach a similar dilemma.—The Editors

Founded by poor, immigrant Dutch farmers in the last half of the nineteenth century, Harderwyk Church never grew beyond neighborhood size during its first fifty years. The three main clans intermingled until nearly everybody was at least a second cousin to every other member of the congregation.

But after World War II, prosperity steamrolled into western Michigan. The lakeshore properties that had performed so poorly for farming suddenly became attractive to the newly rich from Chicago, Grand Rapids, and Detroit. Strangers moved in, with money. While the poorer farm families welcomed the church growth and the financial backing that allowed them to put up a new building and develop better programs, the alliance between old and new was always tenuous.

The seventies and eighties were boom decades, and a third wave rolled in: business professionals—doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs, and CEOs. These folks, mostly upper-middle class and educated, brought with them the baby-boomer desire to do things “right” and a love for big organizations. The boomers quickly became leaders and visionaries in the church. During the eighties and early nineties, the church launched a massive building campaign, and each time the pledges came in, there was more money than blueprint.

The unraveling

Meanwhile, the loose lacing that bound the three demographic groups together in the congregation was unraveling. Some families felt the building was not meeting needs in the community; it was a monument to the church, but not necessarily to its mission or its younger members.

As the building program ended and the sanctuary reached maximum capacity on Sunday mornings, a fourth group evolved. These folks asked permission to establish a seeker-sensitive, outreach-type service in the Great Room. Their proposal, they said, would not conflict with the main morning worship, since it would be held at a different time and would require no additional staff.

At first the congregation was excited about this new venture. The service began with fifteen people from the congregation and a handful more invited from the neighborhood.

Then things changed.

If We Persisted, We Stood To Lose At Least A Third Of Our Members

Since the new group used all contemporary music, the main worshiping community became increasingly typified as traditional. Soon a number of families, particularly those with teen-aged youth, began to migrate across the hallway for worship. Within four years, the balance of Sunday morning worship attendance had tipped precariously, with about 250 in each group. The disenfranchised from the three previous demographic groups had now combined with the fourth group to re-create what Sunday morning meant at Harderwyk Church.

During these heady years, the congregation added staff, but the growing divergence of ecclesiologies resulted in the senior pastor, administrative/outreach director, and music director all leaving in one year. An interim pastor was brought in to help heal wounds broken open during the consternation of 1993—the black year. A search process began for a new senior pastor. And that brought me into the picture.

Mixed signals

While the search committee worked, competing ideas about the future of Harderwyk Church swirled. In the end, the search committee presented two persons for consideration: One candidate was, at that time, pastor of a church that had also begun two different Sunday morning services. I was the other candidate. At the time I was helping a rather traditional congregation make the transition into a more seeker-friendly mode by broadening the worship style at two identical services each Sunday morning.

The vote that resulted in my getting the call was by no means a mandate. But the prevailing sentiment in the church council was to bring the Sunday morning worshiping communities together, to find an expression of worship somewhere between traditional and contemporary.

On Easter Sunday of 1995, we did it: two identical worship services, combining the best of traditional choir and brass with the best of a praise band and new music. We decided to take the Easter success to the next logical step. Beginning on Memorial Day weekend, we held identical Sunday worship services at 9:00 a.m. and 10:45 a.m.

A week later, our music director, who also served as organist, suddenly resigned. For the rest of the summer, we limped along with no music director, fill-in organists, and an ever-present praise band.

The outcry was enormous. Traditionalists began worshiping in other churches, complaining about the drums and the guitars. Contemporarist members came to me with tears in their eyes, demanding to know what right I had to take away their worship service. Some people slipped out; others left in a huff.

By August, it was clear: if we persisted in this council-directed endeavor, we stood to lose at least a third of our members. The group that would remain, while pleased with the outcome, would be too small to maintain whatever ministries we still had in place.

So, beginning the first Sunday in September, the worshiping communities were split once more, both in style and location. Now the identity issue loomed larger: What was Harderwyk Church?

Naming the beast

A financial item brought the identity question into a crisis.

During our brief time together during the summer months, it became obvious the worship auditorium sound system was woefully inadequate. To meet the needs of blended worship, the church pledged the funds for a new system.

But now the worshiping communities were again separate. The money had been pledged for the sound system in the worship auditorium. The amount received was more than needed, if the worship auditorium remained for traditional worship only. However, the Great Room sound system for the contemporary worshiping community was inadequate. But the money hadn’t been collected to replace it, nor were there enough funds to redo both systems.

We started the discussion at the executive council level, and it stymied everybody. When I arrived the year before, the traditional worshiping community was perceived as dominant, the true heir of Harderwyk’s identity; the contemporary worshiping community was considered a kind of parachurch outreach, second in importance to the real church. Though many still believed that, we sensed the balance had actually flip-flopped.

The council and various leaders of ministries wrestled with the question: Which worshiping community is the true identity of the church? We came up with six different “scenarios”:

Scenario A:

The traditional worshiping community is acknowledged as dominant and gives direction to Harderwyk ministry developments. The contemporary worshiping community is the primary ancillary ministry of Harderwyk Church.

Scenario B:

The contemporary worshiping community is acknowledged as dominant and gives direction to the church’s ministry developments. The traditional worshiping community is viewed as the primary ancillary ministry of Harderwyk Church.

Scenario C:

The traditional worshiping community continues the true line of identity with Harderwyk’s past. The contemporary worshiping community should be organized as a new congregation. If it chooses to remain in the Harderwyk Church facility, it must begin paying a fair rent.

Scenario D:

The contemporary worshiping community has renegotiated the true line of identity with Harderwyk’s past. The traditional worshiping community remains viable but should be repositioned as a sister congregation. If it chooses to remain in the Harderwyk Church facility, it must begin paying a fair rent.

Scenario E:

Each worshiping community is part of the larger Harderwyk Church identity, and, therefore, the two should be merged. Over a three-year period, the church leadership will slowly blend the styles of worship of the two communities. A building program will be initiated to create a larger space to merge the two communities into one.

Scenario F:

Each worshiping community is a congregation in its own right. Harderwyk Church is essentially a multi-congregational ministry. An administrative structure is needed to help facilitate the development of each congregation and its ancillary ministries.

What Would You Do?

If you were pastor of this congregation, what would you recommend? Which scenario would you favor and why? How would you help the congregation find unity?

Leadership asked two respected voices, a veteran pastor and a church consultant, for their opinions. Our purpose was not for them to play “Monday-morning quarterback” for Wayne Brouwer, but to shed light on a complex situation. (In preparing their response, neither David Fisher nor Speed Leas read the conclusion of the case study—what Harderwyk Church actually did. So their comments reflect only the information in the above paragraphs.)

Back to the Theological

by David C. Fisher

Wayne inherited an almost impossible situation for two reasons: (1) his coming to the church was the choice of one group over another, and (2) from the start, the council mandated a blended service.

As I read the case study, I didn’t notice much biblical or theological language. (Wayne may have incorporated this in practice.) The process may have been crippled because it didn’t begin with a theological discussion about the nature of the church. As long as such discussions remain on the level of preferences, people will be exclusive rather than inclusive.

I also didn’t sense much ownership by the congregation that the discussion should even be taking place. Ownership takes a long time and is the result of careful planning. You never get 100 percent ownership by the congregation, but at least you need a shrug of the shoulders. Most people, if you listen to them and understand their objections, can live with a great deal of diversity.

I would likely back up and try to lead by spending a significant time teaching about the nature of the church: What is a worshiping community? Why do we worship? Why do we worship in the form we do?

That said, with any decision, no matter how strong the leadership or gentle the process, some folks are going to leave. But a pastor needs to know why they are leaving, so the leadership’s information is good information.

David C. Fisher is pastor of Colonial Church of Edina in Edina, Minnesota.

Back to the Relational

by Speed Leas

Harderwyk’s particular situation is centered on ritual, which is a powerful shaper of the identity of an organization. One way someone knows whether he or she is in the system is by knowing the ritual—when to kneel, stand, pray in the service. Harderwyk used two different sets of ritual—traditional and contemporary—to differentiate between those who are in and those who are out.

In this situation, the council came up with the final scenarios and decided to focus the problem on the kind of ritual or worship itself. I didn’t see any discussion about how to manage the tension. The leadership focused on the content of the decision rather than the process of how the decision would be made. I think you need both. A church needs a plan to determine what’s fair in such a controversy—in short, the rules about how it will fight.

I was also fascinated that three key leaders—the senior pastor, the outreach director, and the music director—all left in one year. Later, the organist left. I want to know why: Why were they unable to stay?

It’s only a guess, but perhaps leaving is the dominant pattern of handling conflict—”If you can’t get along, do your own thing.” The tendency is to look to the final decision about worship as the thing that will fix the problem. I think a more pressing matter is how church members relate to one another.

The Harderwyk situation parallels the problem in 1 Corinthians. There was a variety of identities within the same system—some identified with Apollos, some with Cephas. Paul basically says, “It’s okay to have divergent identities within the larger system, of which Christ is the head.”

The key question is, “How can we find a way to worship together recognizing the values of Apollos and Cephas in our congregation?”

Speed Leas is director of consultation for the Alban Institute in Boulder Creek, California.

What Actually Happened

Leadership invited Wayne to respond to the commentators and then to explain how the situation was resolved.

While I didn’t know the full scope of the leadership difficulty at Harderwyk before I came, I was aware of much. I felt a strong call by God to be part of the process by which this congregation would receive some focused direction. When I came we embarked on a significant process of biblical reflection on the nature, character, and mission of the church. Every month I had an article about these matters in our congregational newsletter. I began every church council meeting with a period of teaching about these things. In worship I included a series of messages on Ephesians 4-6, developing a broader perspective on “church.”

The dark times of 1993, including staff leaving, were very complex; the identity crisis in the church only served as a catalyst for some people’s leaving.

Although the case study condenses the process, both I and the church council strongly involved the congregation. Every option had been stated openly within the eighteen months before I came to Harderwyk.

By God’s grace we were able to find a capable consultant who helped us work through foundational biblical-theological issues, while charting an interactive process by which the congregation could own its identity.

Harderwyk’s final decision

In March 1996, we summarized the six scenarios in an eight-page document, setting out reasonable projections of how each would look five to ten years into the future. We also raised the most obvious difficulties accompanying each. The front page carried background as to why this was happening, and the back page charted the specific meetings that would be part of the decision-making process.

In April, we held three separate evenings of small-group meetings. Trained facilitators led each group through a discussion of the scenarios, gaining clarity and providing feedback. No decisions were made at these meetings. They were intended to help people process the possibilities and hear from others who might see things from a different perspective.

In May we gathered again, all on one evening. Before that meeting, we published a twenty-eight-page document that redrafted the previous six scenarios, a list of the questions raised about each (along with reasonable answers that were as neutral as possible), and the inclusion of Scenario G. Scenario G came about because so many people had asked, “Why can’t we just continue on like we are now?!” In the document, we identified what that scenario looked like and why the council thought the ministries at Harderwyk could not develop properly with it, since that scenario had no sense of future.

At our May meeting, we divided up into groups scattered all over the church. The facilitators were given a specific mandate: “For thirty minutes review the implications of each scenario in as neutral and balanced a manner as possible, keeping people from quickly identifying their favorites. Then, for the next thirty minutes, lead the group in a series of eliminations, until only two of the seven remain. Don’t try to get people to choose between these two. Just report back to the main group the names of these two.”

The reports came in.

Scenarios A, B, C, and D had been panned in all groups, largely because each would mark one group as a winner and the other as a loser. Scenario E (blend the two into one) was a choice of every group. Scenarios F and G split the rest of the vote. Those who thought through the identity issues saw that Scenario F was essentially Scenario G with a plan. However, not all groups wanted to invest effort into that plan, and G was much more familiar. The decision would be between G (stay the same) and E (blend).

The congregational vote was June 10. That night we had the largest congregational meeting in Harderwyk history.

Three speakers had been solicited for each of the two positions. They were not allowed to attack the other perspective but only to bring out the positive elements in their scenario. Then the floor was opened to more campaigning, with time allotted in alternating blocks of two minutes for each position, tightly controlled by the chair. When no one had anything new to add to the discussion, ballots were distributed.

The council had decided that for the sake of unity, a two-thirds majority would be needed. But the council also said that several ballots could be taken until a clear direction and majority were reached.

After the first ballot, the vote rested at 60 percent for G and 40 percent for E. More campaigning took place, then another vote, and scenario G—to continue on as we were—captured more than 70 percent.

The process was done. But what was done? Had anything been accomplished?

The fruit

A lot of good has come.

First, the undercurrents of critical gossip have diminished, because we’ve lost a number of members who had difficulty living with the changing face of Harderwyk Church.

Second, the search for identity helped us refocus on what really mattered, getting beyond mere worship style or musical preference.

We’ve begun many new ministries since June. For example, we are providing mentors for eleven families or individuals seeking to get off welfare, and transitional housing for three families.

We also split the minister of music position into two half-time positions, one for each worshiping community. This move re-energized both groups, and visibly fostered the multi-congregational character of Harderwyk’s unfolding identity.

Third, the council and staff have been vindicated. At times, the church perceived that we were forcing it into a painful process that it didn’t want to go through; now there is a general sense that doing so was wise.

Fourth, council meetings have blossomed into times of prayer, care, and vision. Meetings that used to take four hours are now finished in two and a half. We now spend more time surveying the horizon and less time dealing with details that can be handled by staff and task forces.

Fifth, we’re gaining new members. We’ve developed clear expectations of membership; all who now join must attend a new-members class in which our vision and identity are outlined. People are asked to sign on, literally.

This process was a necessary step in getting us back on track with a ministry of meaning and purpose. These days I think often of T. S. Eliot’s powerful lines: