More Than A Statistic

Last month, I was deep in a conversation with a few friends last month after reading an article around church decline, the rise of the SBNRs (Spiritual-But-Not-Religious), and surveys, available here. As conversations with me tend to do, we meandered- this time down the road of statistics, theology, and more, but I disagreed with the article’s conclusion (seriously, go read it!). I think pollster’s tricks aside, it seems that everywhere we look- media, social networks, our local community contexts- there is so much more to the religious and spiritual debate than surveys and numbers, including some very real decline in Sunday worship attendance across the country.

Now, Holy Cross is an anomaly in those statistics in a good way, but let’s move beyond that for a second. I do believe that even with all of the talk of the decline of “religious” and the rise of the “spiritual”, there does seem to be a movement external from the confines of religious walls that does embrace those things that Christ upholds. Yet, as one of my friends related, “Simply living that way daily isn’t the fullest expression of Christianity; there is a communal aspect to it.” So we agreed that while there does seem to be a movement for people to live more Christ-like lives, the opportunity is ripe for more communal gatherings that the disciples embody. Not just singular people doing things, but groups of people, gathering, celebrating, and accomplishing more together than a single entity could. 
  

With that in mind, I brought the story which was our focus this past Sunday, John’s account of the Feeding of the 5000 into the conversation. The disciples know that there isn’t a way around the fact, the statistic, that they are unable to feed and provide for the people there. They bemoan that fact to each other and to Christ. 

And yet, a child offering his lunch, a mere 2 small fish and some loaves of bread, becomes a tool through which God works.  

You see, the boy offers a radically different kind of interaction with Christ. A movement which numbers, stats, and preconceived notions can’t explain- yes, we get that 6 month’s wages wouldn’t be enough money. Yes, we get that it would be hard to find a 24-hour bakery by the Sea of Tiberias with bread for 10,000 (remember, they didn’t count the women and children). I don’t think the boy knew or cared about the numbers. I read this passage and see a boy who yearned to encounter Christ and a simple desire and passion to offer his gifts to God.
  
What if, we discussed, the story could be seen through the lens of a SBNR or someone who was cut off from the church? What if the disciples were a faith community and the little boy simply someone outside of a church context who had something to offer? 

Would that girl, boy, man, or woman be welcomed by those disciples? Would the ‘inside’ hear that voice, see those gifts that the ‘outsider’ had as something worthy of engaging with, taking part in, or lifting up to God (minus Andrew’s negativity/sarcasm in verse 9)? Or would we dismiss the boy, relegate him to the outer circle, claiming “You just don’t understand,” “You don’t know the way things are done around here,” or “We’re scared! He has such a different perspective and wants so much change!”?  

The boy’s offering and what God was doing through it created ripple effects throughout the people creating something miraculous. That offering turned into something not simply sufficient, but a superabundance of food for those gathered. 

What if our statistics, our preconceived notions, and our assumptions are simply the back-and-forth that the disciples were engaged in? Have there been those in our midst like this boy, who have been afraid to walk into these communities? Did we see them and engage them, or did we turn them away? Maybe they hesitate to even come in the door because their fear is that those disciples, those communities just aren’t ready for them to walk through the doors and offer what they have. 

Have you hesitated to engage in a particular activity, group, or faith community for those same reasons? Fear of rejection? Fear of not having enough? Fear of not being enough? Fear of being laughed at or scorned? 

Remember the child. John the gospel writer did. He felt it was vital to record the boldness of this uncounted, ‘unimportant’ boy and his contribution to God to impact those around him. If you consider yourself one of the disciples in this story- be on the lookout for those around you that perhaps you’ve ignored because they don’t fit your mold or match your expectations. If you identify as the boy here- how can you summon that same courage, trust, and faith to enter into that situation and offer what you have? 

Whoever you are, church goer or SBNR, disconnected or engaged, young or old, your actions may have miraculous potential when combined with the trusting faith of this boy and the power of Christ. You may turn a statistic into a story, a lunch into a movement that feeds thousands, or something else that is recorded for others to learn from for years to come.

Jon Wolf, Associate Pastor