Accepting the notion of a leaner church

"There's the church. There's the steeple. Open it up, and look at all the people!"

The time-tested playful teaching tool, necessitating the use of both hands, is still used by people with small children.

Building upon the metaphor, the truth is there are fewer people to see nowadays.

It is to be readily admitted that religious faith and going to worship are different things.

A fair-minded reader will note at least a loose relationship between the two ideas, however.

In the course of my work at the Southeast Missourian, information about the current religious attitudes of people occasionally pops up and intrigues me.

Case in point: according to Australia Bureau of Statistics (ABS), much has changed in 20 years when it comes to publicly identifiable faith professions.

Two English-speaking nations, Australia and our own country, are offered for your examination.

In the Southern Hemispheric nation's 2021 Census, 38.9% of Aussies identified as having "no religion," up from 15.5% in 2001.

Christianity still claims 43.9% of Australia's citizenry, with Roman Catholics accounting for 20% of that figure and Anglicanism (Episcopalianism in the U.S.) with just under 10%.

By any measure, and this writer makes no claim to the accuracy of ABS' statistics, the drop in identification by two-fifths of the populace with a specific religious group is staggering.

In the U.S., the respected Pew Research Center shows adherence to religious faith -- never mind the private practice of the same -- is following a similar arc, albeit with a stronger representation by self-identified Christians.

The following statement is found in a Sept. 13 article, "Modeling the Future of Religion in America," on Pew's website.

"Since the 1990s, large numbers of Americans have left Christianity to join the growing ranks of U.S. adults who describe their religious identity as atheist, agnostic or 'nothing in particular.' This accelerating trend is reshaping the U.S. religious landscape, leading many people to wonder what the future of religion in America might look like."

Anecdotally

This columnist is occasionally asked to preach in the Cape Girardeau area -- not often, though, and what I'm requested to do is plenty enough.

I've noticed some things in those churches and yes, things have definitely changed, probably permanently.

The pandemic has driven, out of necessity, churches to stream worship services when it was deemed unhealthy, perhaps even potentially lethal, to gather in groups.

Even as the pandemic eased and people began returning to their houses of worship, some continued to stay home and have watched from the comfort of their homes. It's a permanent change, I reckon.

I know of an area congregation who did return to in-person worship that still does not sing hymns congregationally for fear of spreading of the COVID-19 virus. That's truly an abundance of caution but wise, given the age of its members.

The impact of the twin bombshells of COVID, now considered endemic and "low risk" in Cape Girardeau County, plus the explosion in congregational ability to reach members remotely via Zoom and other methods, has altered what Pew calls "the religious landscape."

I'm not ready to say the sky is falling, nor am I prepared to throw in the towel.

There is a church within walking distance of my home that is without a gainfully employed pastor, and it seems to be doing just fine despite COVID, despite streaming worship, et al.

Others, admittedly, have struggled; some have closed.

In my religious tradition, these words may be found in liturgy: "The church is of God and will be preserved to the end of time."

An oft-told story about philosopher Fredrich Nietzsche, which is probably urban legend, has it that the 19th century German once said, "The church is dead."

Knowing the resilience of church people, witnessed during my long tenure leading congregations, leads me to take an opposing view.

To wit: "Nietzsche is dead."