Broken but Beautiful: Why Church is Still Worth It

J. P. Conway raises a challenging question—can I be a member of the Christian community that is not always honest about the pain it perpetuates? Conway’s response is an honest confession of the hurt the church causes, but also an unwavering hope of what the church can be when community is celebrated. He makes a compelling case that life in the church is worth it.

—Charles Strobel

Founding Director, Room in the Inn

"I love remodeling houses. Tearing down walls and busting up bricks is pretty easy. Building walls back and pouring new cement is hard. In Broken But Beautiful, J. P. Conway reminds us that ‘religious deconstruction is easy—reconstruction of the church demands sacrifice.’ This book is very timely as we watch the church decline in numbers in our country."

—Dudley Chancey

Professor of Ministry, Oklahoma Christian University

One reason I love this book is that it is full of vivid stories that tell the truth about church—true-to-life, heart-breaking, push-through-the-pain, uplifting stories. Another reason I love this book is J. P.’s winning portrayal of the intentionally intergenerational church that binds up the wounded while providing a hothouse for spiritual formation for all ages. The third reason I love this book is that it is hopeful—a book of encouragement for ministry leaders struggling in churches that are broken and reminding them that churches are also beautiful. It is simply the most winning, hopeful book about church that I’ve read; it is J. P. Conway’s love letter to the body of Christ.

—Holly Catterton Allen

Co-author of Intergenerational Christian Formation: Bringing the Whole Church Together for Ministry, Community, and Worship

Burnt by the church? Apathetic toward the church? Bored by the church? This book is for you. Against the background of his narrative, J. P. extends an invitation to all, to learn from the brokenness of the church, to be warmed by her beauty, and to establish her worth as life-giving for self, family, and community.

—Stan Weber

Operation Andrew’s Director of United4Hope, Nashville

"I have found Broken but Beautiful to be a truly beautiful book for a too often tragically broken church in today’s world. J. P. honestly addresses the flaws and brokenness of the church and empathizes with those who are disappointed by and have left the church. J. P., however, calls them to come back to church by seeing the church as Jesus sees, ‘beautiful’ enough to give his life for."

—Gary Parrett

Former Professor of Educational Ministries and Worship, Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary

Broken but Beautiful

Why Church Is Still Worth It

Joseph P. Conway

Broken but Beautiful

Why Church Is Still Worth It

Copyright © 2020 Joseph P. Conway. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.

Wipf & Stock

An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers

199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3

Eugene, OR 97401

www.wipfandstock.com

paperback isbn: 978-1-7252-7146-3

hardcover isbn: 978-1-7252-7145-6

ebook isbn: 978-1-7252-7147-0

09/29/20

Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Table of Contents

Title Page

Preface

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Section 1: Broken

1. Who Is My Mother?

2. Broken Humanity

3. Lost Community

4. Consumerism

5. Loneliness

6. Churchless Christianity

Section 2: Beautiful

7. Kingdom

8. Resilient Exiles

9. The Body and the Bride

10. The Washing and the Table

11. Open Weekly Gatherings

12. Intergenerational Community

13. Transnational Identity

14. Ethical Transformation

Section 3: Broken, Beautiful, and Worth it

15. Thick Culture

16. Social Capital

17. The Common Good

18. An Opportunity to Grow

19. A Place to Thrive

20. Behold Your Mother

Bibliography

To all the ordinary churches who meet in ordinary neighborhoods in ordinary buildings: you are worth it. Through the Spirit, God does extraordinary works through you every day. You are the body of Jesus, the bride of Christ. Never forget that.

Preface

Room in the Inn began in the winter of 1985, when founding director Father Charles Strobel opened the doors of his parish to individuals seeking sanctuary in the church parking lot. In December 1986, four congregations committed to sheltering people experiencing homelessness through March 1987. By the end of that winter, thirty-one congregations had joined. Now, nearly 200 congregations representing a wide variety of traditions and over 7,000 volunteers shelter almost 1,500 men and women each winter. In 1995, Room in the Inn opened their downtown campus, offering emergency services, transitional programs, and long-term solutions to help people rebuild their lives. The opening of a 45,000-square-foot facility in 2010 further enhanced their ability to support people through programs emphasizing health, education, employment, and housing. They do this work through building one-on-one relationships and offering hospitality to all who call the streets of Nashville home. Roomintheinn.org

All royalties from the sale of this work will be distributed to Room in the Inn.

Acknowledgements

Over the years, many friends have honestly shared their hurt and pain, as well as their hopes and dreams. I’m thankful for your vulnerability.

I’m grateful for the churches which have nurtured me over the years, from childhood to college to my time as a minister—Una, Smith Springs, Highland, Southwest, Manchester, Smyrna, and Acklen Avenue.

I’ve had the honor to know so many people over the last twenty years of congregational ministry. Forgive me for the ways I fell short. I’m thankful for the time we had together. You were and continue to be the body of Christ to me.

I’m thankful for the many people who supported this project, especially in the moments when I doubted or felt overwhelmed. Specifically, Holly, Leonard, Earl, Sheila, Robbie, Spencer, Matt, Bryan, and Paul gave essential feedback and support at key times.

I’m grateful for the encouragement I receive from students and faculty at Lipscomb University, where I’m honored to serve as affiliate faculty.

My parents and brothers show up in so many of these stories. Thank you for your faithfulness at the time and your openness in letting me share a part of your lives in this work. Moreover, my life would not be the same without the support of my in-laws: mother, father, brothers, and sisters.

I’m grateful for the vibrant joy my three daughters bring to my life. I relish watching you encounter Jesus and experience the love of a church family.

To my wife, Beth, your unwavering commitment to Jesus inspires me every day. Your refusal to harbor cynicism and resentment about church life, even when it gets really hard, has been a true gift. For the countless hours we processed these ideas and stories out loud together, thank you. Gently, you provoked deeper reflection and action. I couldn’t imagine a better life and ministry partner than you.

Introduction

A Broken Body

As I began my senior year in college in 1999, 70 percent of Americans held membership in a local church. Twenty years later, as I enter my forties, that number has plummeted to 50 percent.¹ I’m not surprised by these statistics. Every week, I encounter a friend or meet someone new who tells me they no longer participate in church. Most continue to identify as Christian or at the very least as spiritual. After I ask a few questions, their frustration floods out like water from a poorly designed dam. The reasons for departure stream out: feeling judged, feeling shame, the culture wars, the politics, the cover-ups and abuse, the anti-science attitude, the boredom.

We’re experiencing a religious sea change in America. In 1955, 95 percent of Americans identified as Christian.² In surveys taken between 2014 and 2017, that number shrunk to 69 percent, the number marking other grew from 4 percent to 11 percent, and those marking none grew from 1 percent to 20 percent. The Nones now represent the fastest growing religious demographic in America, surpassing evangelicals (23.1 percent vs. 22.5 percent) and mainline Protestants (11.8 percent). In addition, approximately 10 percent of the American population falls under the category of churchless Christians. They identify as Christian, but while they once attended church regularly, they haven’t attended a church in six months.³

I live in Nashville, Tennessee, what some refer to as the buckle of the Bible Belt. Still, I rub elbows with Nones and churchless Christians every single day. They’re not strangers but friends and neighbors. I’d like to think I understand the decisions they’ve made. I get it. Their concerns have a ring of legitimacy. I get why so many have left because I’ve thought about leaving too. When I entered congregational ministry around twenty years ago, an old minister told me, never quit on Monday. I responded with a nervous laugh. I didn’t get it. I get it now. To be sure, some Mondays, I float along on the wave of inspiration of the day before. Other Mondays, I limp around in confusion, even doubt. Is it worth it? Is too much of it broken? Why is it so hard?

Deep down, a lingering thought wouldn’t go away. What if there is more than just the brokenness? Beyond the pain and difficulty, what if something beautiful endures beneath the baggage? So, ultimately, I’ve stayed. But if you’ve left, though, I want you to know that I get it. I’m sorry for the pain you’ve endured. I’m honored you’re reading this, and I invite you on this journey. I invite you to look into the depths of the brokenness and wait for the beauty to rise. And if you haven’t left, I want you to consider why you’ve stayed. Some of us have stayed out of guilt or shame. Some of us have stayed because it’s just plain easier. But imagine what it would look like to stay, not out of guilt, but out of conviction. Imagine what it would feel like to stay, not to avoid social embarrassment, but for the beauty of it all.

I’ve thought about leaving, but I haven’t. This is why . . .

Years ago, my buddy Chuck and I hung out a lot and were very close. When he began dating a girl, I missed his friendship a lot. But it was more than just that. I worried she wasn’t right for him. I don’t mean to be rude, but she had some issues. Far from healthy, she struggled to keep her head above water in the midst of physical, emotional, and spiritual challenges. I liked her, but I worried about the long-term feasibility of the relationship. I worried that he would end up getting hurt. Admittedly, this happened more than once in my twenties. Maybe you had the same experience. What do you do when a friend enters a relationship that concerns you?

At first, I tried to talk Chuck out of it. Gently but firmly, I pointed out the challenges. Careful not to disparage her, I instead focused on his capacity to walk with her through hardship. Maybe they could just be friends. Maybe he could give it a bit more time before he committed. I tried to warn him, to talk him out of it, but I failed. So, after they got serious, I changed my strategy. I tried to change her. We hung out in groups, and as the extremes of her personality surfaced, I tried to confront her. You can imagine the awkwardness that created, but I cared about my friend. When she ventured towards poor choices, I tried to point out the pitfalls to both him and her. You can imagine the strain that put on our relationship, and you can probably imagine the result. I tried to change her, but I failed.

So when my first two strategies failed, I took a resentful third option. I quit spending time with her, which meant I didn’t spend much time around Chuck either. Watching their relationship frustrated me too much. Over and over, she got in over her head with financial problems, broken relationships, and work issues. Over and over, he dropped everything to go be with her. I couldn’t take it, so I walked away. Eventually, they got married, and I hardly saw them. I congratulated myself on taking a firm stand, but deep down I missed Chuck. I hadn’t affected anything or anyone but myself. I’d lost the relationship, so eventually, after a few years, I reached back out.

Along with my wife, the four of us all went to dinner one night. I noticed something. Sure, many alarming, self-destructive aspects of her personality remained. At the same time, I noticed some traits I’d never seen before. I noticed her patience. I noticed her kindness. I noticed her resolve. Gradually, as the evening went on, I began to see what he saw in her. She was not just broken. She was beautiful. I saw the beauty he saw in her. I had tried to talk him into walking away, but I failed. I tried to change her, but I failed. I tried to remove myself but only hurt myself. When I began to see her the way he saw her, it made all the difference. Maybe you’ve been there.

For many, our relationship with church proves similar. We first fell in love with Jesus, and because of Jesus we hung out with the church. But we’ve struggled with how to process the relationship between Jesus and the church. In Ephesians 5:25, Paul says, Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her. Imagine this. Imagine Jesus was your buddy. Imagine that Jesus started dating a girl named the church. Now, you know the church. You’ve spent time with her. I mean this lovingly, but she’s crazy. You never know what the church is going to do. She’ll break your heart. At times, she’s even guilty of evil. So, you try to talk Jesus out of it. Surely, Jesus can do life without the church. Wouldn’t Jesus be healthier without this relationship? But Jesus loves her. So, you try to change her. You try to change the church, and, as expected, that fails. Frustrated and unwilling to watch the pain Jesus will no doubt endure, you walk away. You stop spending time with the church, and as a result maybe you spend less time with Jesus as well. Eventually, you wonder if you’re only hurting yourself. After a long time apart, you meet back up with the church. Sure, the church still has issues, but you notice things you’ve never noticed before. She’s still broken, and yet, she’s beautiful. You begin to realize what he sees in her. And as you begin to see what he sees, it changes everything. Maybe you’ve been there.

Each Sunday, I meet with a very imperfect group of Christians. We meet in an ordinary brick building and conduct an ordinary service. Our worship climaxes at what we call the Lord’s Table. As we prepare to eat the bread and drink the cup, I look around the room. I see people overwhelmed with life. Some older members have buried spouses and children. I see middle-aged adults trying to pay their bills, raise their kids, and sustain their marriages. I see conservatives and liberals, traditionalists and progressives, Republicans and Democrats. I see some who were born in America and some who moved to America. I see some with thriving faith and some barely holding on to faith. Some have even lost faith. I see some experiencing deep pain that only a few others know about. I see some who have been very upset with me at times. I see others who think more highly of me than they should. I see little kids crawling all over the pews. I see teenagers, some bored and some engaged. I see some single and some married, some happily married and some considering divorce. I see people struggling with various forms of addiction and anxiety. I see people wanting to make a difference, to make our neighborhood and city a little better each day.

These are my people. They have my back. This is my family gathered around the Lord’s Table. In these moments, I look towards the front. A buddy holds up the bread and says, This is the body of Christ, broken for you. It’s so beautiful. And then, he breaks it. He breaks the bread because the body has been broken. We pass it around, and we all eat it. At this moment, a sensation of transcendent peace overwhelms me. A hopeful reality sets in. I get a glimpse of truth. It may be broken, but it’s still beautiful. That beauty keeps me going, keeps me coming back.

For the past ten years, I’ve wrestled with why I’ve stayed. I want to share what I discovered. While some names have been changed, it’s all true. This is my story.

Section 1 explores why our experience in church often seems so broken. I’ll highlight the trends I find responsible for our current statistics. The fundamental issue lies in the brokenness of the human condition, clearly seen in the sinful hypocrisy of the church. Over the last fifty years in America, the awareness of sin has caused widespread distrust of institutions and communal structures, including the church. Many no longer seek out the very forms that brought community to former generations. To combat this, many embraced consumerist models to stem the tide of withdrawal in their organizations. In the American church culture, we saw this in the church growth movement, which birthed among other things the megachurch. While this stemmed the tide for some, it made it worse for others. Together, all these trends have culminated in today’s loneliness epidemic. We feel disconnected, and we act in disconnected ways. In doing so, we alienate each other more and more. A certain slice of Americans has responded by continuing their pursuit of Jesus but doing it outside of organized communities of faith. However, I wonder if these churchless Christians, sisters and brothers, will find what they’re looking for in the long run.

Section 2 explores why church manifests a persistent beauty despite the underlying challenges. Jesus entered a broken world and lived a beautiful life. He gave us a taste of heaven. In doing so, Jesus confirmed our deepest longing and suspicion: we were created for something more than this. This better life takes place in the kingdom, where what God wants to happen actually happens. Jesus showed us it’s more than just a naïve fantasy. It’s real. Of course, how do we live as kingdom residents in a world that seems anything but heaven? The Bible answers this with the theme of exile, which explains why our present experience so often differs from our ideal future. Flowing from an understanding of kingdom and exile, we begin to realize the true nature of the church, the body and bride of Christ. Combined, these metaphors show us what to pursue as well as the love we discover as we fail. Alongside this, an exploration of the Christian practices of baptism and Communion offer key tools to recapture God’s intention for human flourishing.

Also in section 2, I’ll walk through four unique aspects of the church. No other social institution offers these things, at least not in the same way. First, the church provides open weekly gatherings. In a culture fervently seeking inclusiveness, these accessible gatherings offer an instant and low-cost entry point for anyone who comes. Second, the church presents one of the only contexts for all ages to be together. In an era of age segregation, where else can you find babies and Baby Boomers, teenagers and Millennials, all hanging out doing life alongside one another? Third, the church, at its best, gives us a transnational identity, even a global family. We’re part of something enormous made up of every tongue and tribe as Revelation 7 tells us. Fourth, the church offers a means of ethical transformation that holds us accountable to the example of Jesus. While we can all point to exceptions, as a general rule, participation in the life and rhythms of congregational life shapes one’s behavior.

Section 3 explores why the broken but beautiful church is still worth it. Regular church involvement over the long run produces thick