I’ve been thinking of church experiences that seemed to work for me (and for the church), and have one more story spanning three years. Post-college, at a Unitarian Universalist church way away from home, I attended more than a few services, some lay-led in the summer, some minister-led in the school year, but didn’t really sense any place for me to participate. The services were certainly adequate, but I wasn’t moved (though I’m willing to live with that some of the time). I wasn’t particularly interested in the activities that the church offered, most of which seemed social (e.g., Women’s Club, Men’s Club, Senior Lunches). There were a fair number of abbreviations for things that I couldn’t figure out both in worship and in the calendar. I was on the church mailing list for a month, but then taken off despite still attending services. People seemed very interested in talking to their friends at coffee hour afterwards (not a bad thing in and of itself), though I managed to bring out my inner extrovert for a few conversations.

What changed all that? I was hired, literally as an employee, to lead the group of 7-11 year olds. Their religious education department had a budget to pay a nominal fee to someone to provide consistent facilitation for their groups of kids. Parents also helped, but not as consistently. So by finding a part-time job with the church, I managed to find an avenue to plug into church life somehow. Not perfectly, mind you, because being employed by a church is not the same as being a participant in church activities.

Thinking about that experience and Sister Quarterstaff’s comment on Transient and Permanent led me to consider the idea of closed and open systems. Most systems are open in some way. What does that mean? The system interacts with other systems, it let things enter and leave, and changes in some fashion. A healthy church is an open system where people can join (and leave). A healthy church interacts with the community around it, both locally and nationally. Now a closed system has none of that. It exists without anything being added or subtracted. It interacts only with itself. Based on my experience, I think that churches can seem like closed systems to visitors, even repeat visitors and regular attendees who aren’t members.

How does a church appear to be a closed system?

• Lots of use of acronyms and abbreviations;
• A monthly schedule that isn’t entirely public or well-distributed;
• A mailing list that is regularly purged (for budgetary reasons or compulsiveness);
• Opportunities for participation in church life are limited demographically (or are secrets);
• An atmosphere that seems a bit like a country club (lots of old friends) and doesn’t actively welcome newcomers; and
• Membership fees that are high.

Any other ideas about how churches can appear to be closed systems?

If you’d like to read more in this series, the first post: YRUU; Second post: in college at Smith, Third Post: When An Unaffiliated Informal Fellowship Group Really Worked for Me.