Wednesday, August 15, 2007 at 2:02am
Motivating people to practice faith
Column: New Houses from Old Bricks
The more claims on our time and attention, the more loudly all those activities seem to clamor. How can practices of faith, or the congregations encouraging them, be heard in all this noise?
Again, work with a college retreat program provides an example. Before sacrificing a weekend of study or social occasions in order to attend a retreat, students had to be convinced the sacrifice was worth it. For that persuasive undertaking, our possibilities fell into two categories: sticks and carrots.
"Sticks" would threaten dire consequences (usually implied rather than stated) if the retreat was missed. If the student didn't come, say, he might be ostracized by all the cool people who attended. Or she would get stuck in the wrong major and eventual career path, because she hadn't taken the time, in this vocation-oriented retreat, to reflect on where she was headed.
On the other hand, "carrots" promised unbeatable rewards: new friendships different from those they'd find at school, or a dynamic speaker whom no one in their right mind would pass up.
In congregational life, the sticks and carrots can be further divided into two categories: the eternal and the everyday. Some churches get themselves heard in life's noise by carrying eternal damnation as a stick if people don't follow through on their religious obligations: "God (and thus God's church) has to be first priority or else." Fear of consequences is an effective motivator; fear of eternal consequences could work even better.
However, growing up Lutheran, I wasn't raised with that fear. I learned that people are saved through the work of Jesus, not by gold stars on our church attendance sheet or by the number of religious leadership positions we have held.
The Lutherans I've known don't hold eternal damnation over people's heads. Still, our churches can be among those who use the everyday stick of guilt. Guilt too can be an effective motivator, and it usually can be heard through life's noise. But while guilt can get people to show up at first, those people tend to bring resentment along with them.
On the other hand, in avoiding guilt trips we can inadvertently mislead people about the spiritual life. In the process of reassuring people who missed worship three weeks in a row, we might end up pretending that "it doesn't really matter if you worship or not." Or that one can receive peace and serenity without some kind of daily prayer. Or that one can find a deep sense of belonging without connecting with Christian community on a regular basis and sharing one's thoughts and feelings.
On the "carrot" side, plenty of churches offer eternal rewards for intentional religious participation in this lifetime. In Lutheran churches, our "carrots" tend to be more the everyday type, offering this-worldly rewards. "This ministry/event/worship service will be fun and exciting and entertaining." Or, "You'll find friends here, or inner peace, or whatever it is you're looking for."
Those promises, however, are at best confusing and at worst a deceptive bait-and-switch. Following Jesus is not always fun or entertaining, even though it is joyful over the long haul. And inner peace does not show up quickly or on demand (for that matter, neither do friends).
Avoiding guilt trips and offering bribes gets us to the same message, which may not be preached but is often practiced: Discipleship doesn't cost anything, no sacrifice is necessary, and faith can be practiced by accident in the spaces left open by other activities. And we are back where we started, with faith practices drowned out by all the other voices clamoring for attention.
I'm holding out hope for a third option — one that gets through the noise to motivate intentional faith practices. This third way would avoid the sticks of guilt trips (not helpful) and fear of damnation (not theologically sound). It would avoid carrots such as the impression that we are saving ourselves through those things we do religiously (also theologically problematic). It would not make flimsy promises about faith practices (not true, in many cases).
It would be honest about both the costs and promises of discipleship — both the necessary sacrifices and the joy over the long haul. It would speak frankly about the effects of practicing faith — not on one's salvation, but rather on one's quality of life now.
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.
Again, work with a college retreat program provides an example. Before sacrificing a weekend of study or social occasions in order to attend a retreat, students had to be convinced the sacrifice was worth it. For that persuasive undertaking, our possibilities fell into two categories: sticks and carrots.
"Sticks" would threaten dire consequences (usually implied rather than stated) if the retreat was missed. If the student didn't come, say, he might be ostracized by all the cool people who attended. Or she would get stuck in the wrong major and eventual career path, because she hadn't taken the time, in this vocation-oriented retreat, to reflect on where she was headed.
On the other hand, "carrots" promised unbeatable rewards: new friendships different from those they'd find at school, or a dynamic speaker whom no one in their right mind would pass up.
In congregational life, the sticks and carrots can be further divided into two categories: the eternal and the everyday. Some churches get themselves heard in life's noise by carrying eternal damnation as a stick if people don't follow through on their religious obligations: "God (and thus God's church) has to be first priority or else." Fear of consequences is an effective motivator; fear of eternal consequences could work even better.
However, growing up Lutheran, I wasn't raised with that fear. I learned that people are saved through the work of Jesus, not by gold stars on our church attendance sheet or by the number of religious leadership positions we have held.
The Lutherans I've known don't hold eternal damnation over people's heads. Still, our churches can be among those who use the everyday stick of guilt. Guilt too can be an effective motivator, and it usually can be heard through life's noise. But while guilt can get people to show up at first, those people tend to bring resentment along with them.
On the other hand, in avoiding guilt trips we can inadvertently mislead people about the spiritual life. In the process of reassuring people who missed worship three weeks in a row, we might end up pretending that "it doesn't really matter if you worship or not." Or that one can receive peace and serenity without some kind of daily prayer. Or that one can find a deep sense of belonging without connecting with Christian community on a regular basis and sharing one's thoughts and feelings.
On the "carrot" side, plenty of churches offer eternal rewards for intentional religious participation in this lifetime. In Lutheran churches, our "carrots" tend to be more the everyday type, offering this-worldly rewards. "This ministry/event/worship service will be fun and exciting and entertaining." Or, "You'll find friends here, or inner peace, or whatever it is you're looking for."
Those promises, however, are at best confusing and at worst a deceptive bait-and-switch. Following Jesus is not always fun or entertaining, even though it is joyful over the long haul. And inner peace does not show up quickly or on demand (for that matter, neither do friends).
Avoiding guilt trips and offering bribes gets us to the same message, which may not be preached but is often practiced: Discipleship doesn't cost anything, no sacrifice is necessary, and faith can be practiced by accident in the spaces left open by other activities. And we are back where we started, with faith practices drowned out by all the other voices clamoring for attention.
I'm holding out hope for a third option — one that gets through the noise to motivate intentional faith practices. This third way would avoid the sticks of guilt trips (not helpful) and fear of damnation (not theologically sound). It would avoid carrots such as the impression that we are saving ourselves through those things we do religiously (also theologically problematic). It would not make flimsy promises about faith practices (not true, in many cases).
It would be honest about both the costs and promises of discipleship — both the necessary sacrifices and the joy over the long haul. It would speak frankly about the effects of practicing faith — not on one's salvation, but rather on one's quality of life now.
— — —
Rev. Rebecca Schlatter is an ordained minister in the Lutheran Church (ELCA) in Reno, Nevada. You can contact her at {email newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com}newhousesfromoldbricks@hotmail.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Rebecca Schlatter.