From Country Club Church to Something New

The following is adapted from the Rector’s Verbal Report given at the 2023 Annual meeting of Christ Episcopal Church on Sunday, January 28th, 2024.

When I first came to Christ Church seven years ago, I heard again and again from longtime members that this “used to be a country club church.” I admit that I was both confused and fascinated by this comparison, as country clubs and churches have always seemed to me rather different organizations, so I tried to listen deeply, to stay curious about what people were trying to tell me in this comparison.

Now, three qualifiers to everything that follows. First, not everyone said this. There are many longtime members of Christ Church who would probably disagree with this assessment, so I by no means want to say that this was fundamentally true. But enough people said it that I found it worth pondering, and find it worth naming for us to explore together. Second, this was always said in the past tense: “this used to be a country club church.” Interestingly, when I asked in response, “And what kind of church is it now?” the responses varied greatly, and mostly people weren’t sure how to respond at all. Finally, I want to be clear that I’m not fundamentally opposed to country clubs. Many of you are members of country clubs, many of you have generously invited me and my family to spend time with you at your country clubs, and I’ve enjoyed them immensely. Had people said to me again and again that Christ Church was like a restaurant, or like a yoga studio, or like the Rotary, it would be just as fruitful for us to ponder how this might be so, and also how a parish is not like these organizations at all. 

I want to explore four ways in which the church and a country club differ, in the hopes of clarifying what the church uniquely is, and supporting our ongoing discernment around who God is calling Christ Church to be here and now. But first, let’s think about ways that a church and a country club are similar. They are both places where like-minded people gather around events and activities of mutual interest. They have a physical site that facilitates these enjoyable interactions. They’re places people usually go to in a state of need or longing – in the case of a country club, looking for rest, food, connection, exercise, leisure, fun, and in the case of the church looking for spiritual refreshment, community, prayer, music, connection with God, formation – and leave feeling uplifted. That is to say, we go to both church and a country club, in some sense, hoping to feel better afterward. And finally, both have a lamentable history in failing to affirm the full humanity of women, queer folk, and people of color, which they have dealt with, and failed to deal with, in a number of ways.  

Now, onto the ways that country clubs and churches are different. First, there’s how these organizations define membership. To join a country club, one has to pay dues and fees. In our area, these can be in the tens to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Membership is defined by money. Membership in a parish, by contrast, is defined by showing up and being part of the community. Usually, being part of the community also includes participating in the practices of our faith: baptism, service, worship, prayer, ministry – but there are many people who identify as part of our community who don’t do all or even any of those things. The point is: it costs nothing to belong to a church. Everyone who considers this congregation their spiritual home is invited and encouraged to give financially to support the life of the parish, but this is a gift freely given, not a requirement for entry.

This matters. It means a country club is an essentially exclusive organization, whereas the church is, ideally, an inclusive one. The first followers of Jesus were not bound together by class, profession, or affinity – theirs was a wildly diverse community. Some of Jesus’ friends probably could have afforded to belong to the ancient equivalent of a country club, and maybe did (think of all those wealthy women mentioned in scripture who opened their homes to the disciples) while others were enslaved, outcasts, prostitutes, tax collectors, folks of varying physical and mental abilities, bearers of impurity and contagion. It was a real mixed bag, the early church, but they all belonged with Jesus, because everyone belongs with Jesus. We, like most Episcopal churches, are fond of saying, “Whoever you are, wherever you are on your journey of faith, you are welcome here.” If this were a country club, that statement could not be true, but it can be true for a parish. So, the first part of this comparison begs the question: who belongs at Christ Church? 

The second way country clubs and churches differ relates to their mission. Country clubs exist to serve their members, to make their members comfortable, to provide recreation, relaxation, and social interactions for the select few who can afford to join. Churches exist to nourish members and non-members alike so that we, together, may be of God’s service in the world. In the Lutheran church, after the dismissal the pastor often says, “Our liturgy is over, our service begins.” Or, as one longtime parishioner is fond of saying, the church is the only organization that exists solely for the good of those who are not members. 

Finding safe, comforting and comfortable places in our life is important. We all need rest, refreshment, and relaxation. God gave us the Sabbath specifically because our lives are for more than work and productivity: pleasure, ease, stillness, delight, and awe are blessings we were meant to enjoy. We all come to church in need of comfort. But if we are not at least open to being discomforted here, to having our assumptions about the world and our place in it destabilized from time to time, then something is probably wrong. So, this second part of this comparison begs the question: who is Christ Church serving? 

The third way the comparison falls short relates to labor. Who does the real work of an organization? People often go to country clubs not simply to relax but also to have fun that feels like work: one might play a game of golf or attend an exercise class or swim a few thousand meters. But someone else is doing the labor of making the club hospitable and keeping it functioning: cutting the grass and trimming back the hedge; preparing the food and fishing the leaves out of the pool. The staff do the work of keeping the place going. 

This is fundamentally different from a church. The work of the church is the ministry of its members. If we want to have a vibrant outreach committee, an active ministry for children and families, a more pronounced presence in our wider community, or a mutually enriching relationship with Ventana School, the parish staff – amazing as they are – cannot make that happen. The staff exist to support the ministries of the members of the parish and to facilitate those aspects of the life of the congregation that are unique to our faith: worship, prayer, the administration of the sacraments, and pastoral care being good examples. (And though staff or contractors certainly do blow the leaves and move the tables and sweep the floors to allow for all this to happen, members do a lot of this, too). Members of the parish may have ministries that intersect with the fundamentally religious aspects of our life together, but most ministries are lived out most fully and most truly outside of Sunday morning. 

So many of our ministries are full and vibrant. The finance and investment committees have parents and parishioners on them with invaluable knowledge and experience. The choir is, well, it’s the choir – it’s incredible! People are bringing treats to coffee hour and signing up to read and coming to Wednesday dinners. But, while our congregation has been steadily growing over the last few years, we frequently struggle to call people into active ministry. The pandemic exacerbated this, and I realize a lot of things go into one’s willingness and ability to be fully engaged in the life a parish, including work and commitments and stage of life considerations. Still, I want to highlight a few places where I see this really impacting our ability to move in the directions I think we, collectively, want to go. 

First, we no longer have anyone on the outreach committee, or in the parish as far as I know, who is willing to lead hands-on service projects. Perhaps we’re no longer called to these kinds of programs, but if not, how are we called to draw nearer to those most in need, those most beloved by Jesus, in Los Altos and beyond? Similarly, we have some young families who would love to have a more robust children’s ministry, but no volunteers who have stepped forward to help plan and lead this, despite several invitations. It would be wonderful to have a volunteer youth minister again, more members running the AV system on Sundays, more people on the Master Planning or Buildings and Grounds committees, more engagement in Vital + Thriving, more folks coming to school events and willing to serve on the Ventana School Board. Maybe you are hearing this and thinking, “I’m willing to do some of those things! I didn’t even know we had these needs!” If so, goodness, the members of the vestry and I would be thrilled to hear from you. But a fundamental question for all members of a church must be, “Where is God calling me, personally, to be of service?” So, this third part of this comparison begs the question: what is our unique vocation in this community of faith?

At this point, you might be thinking, “Okay, well, the church might not be much like a country club, but it sounds a lot like other service groups and non-profits.” Fair! But this fourth and final point of comparison is the kicker – the thing that makes church unlike any other organization: God. The heart, soul, and center of our life together is not me (thank goodness!), not this building, not our bylaws nor our liturgy nor our mission statement nor our best laid plans. It’s God: our source, strength, and sustainer. Absolutely everything we do is oriented around cultivating, nourishing, and deepening our relationship with God, both directly and through more wholesome relationships with ourselves, each other, and creation. Taking God seriously in Western culture often requires taking ourselves less seriously, or at least taking our ideas and plans and goals less seriously, because God is not a box to check or a thing to acquire or a product to use. Being in relationship with God means that we acknowledge we are not in charge, are not the center of the universe, are not the authors of our own stories nor the authors of salvation. God is. 

Being in relationship with God is the great gift of this life, and … it’s hard. There is much we can experience about God directly and there are things we really do have to take on faith. And like every relationship, there’s no end – no specific place we are trying to get to, no point at which we are finished, no moment when we’ve mastered it. We’re just in it. Imagine saying of your marriage or a close friendship, “I’ve figured it out! I made it! I’ve got this! I guess I’m done now!” There might be moments of transcendent connection and joy in an intimate partnership, but it’s never over until it’s over, and, ideally, we’re not exactly wanting that. We’re simply in it, and being in it changes us again and again. But being in relationship with God also confronts us with our dependence, our vulnerability, our need to trust, even in the absence of understanding – virtues that are radically counter cultural, especially here in high-performing, high stakes Silicon Valley.

There’s an old joke from the Church of England that gets at this tension. One day, a shepherd is out toiling in a field perched perilously on the edge of a cliff. Distracted by a rogue four-legged animal, he accidentally wanders too close to the drop off and begins to tumble over the sheer rock face, barely managing to grab at the thick root of a tree a few feet down, from which he suddenly finds himself dangling. Terrified, he screams, “Help! Is anyone up there!” After a few moments, he hears a voice saying, “Do not be afraid, my child. Let go, and I will be here to catch you.” He takes this in, takes a deep breath, and then calls out, “Is anyone else up there?” Sometimes God’s invitation is not the invitation we want: it’s scary, it’s absurd, it’s inefficient, it asks too much of us, we know it won’t be welcome in the world. I don’t particularly like this either – it’s just true. Of course, the wonderful, terrible thing is that, if it was the voice of God responding to the man dangling on the cliff side, then God really would be there to catch him, but there’s no knowing – no knowing for sure – until he lets go. 

In my seven years here, I’ve become convinced that everyone at Christ Church actually wants to follow God – which, truly, is saying something. I am so deeply moved by the faithfulness I encounter here, and I feel tremendously lucky to be the priest of a community where this is true. In my estimation, it’s not an unwillingness to draw nearer to God that most frequently gets in the way of a deeper, richer and more profound relationship. It’s our inability or unwillingness to let go of the things that get in the way, the things that look at first glance like they are saving our life but are, all too often, crushing our souls: our obsession with achievement, our frenetic schedules and over-commitments, our greed, our attachment to power, our need to be right, our fear of what others will think. I can’t help but wonder … what if we let go? What if we let go of how we think this thing called church is supposed to look? What if we let go of how we think a successful life is supposed to look? What if we let go of anxiety or overachieving? What if we let go of our beliefs about all we can’t do, and listened to what God has in mind? 

Most organizations have plans, goals, timelines. Sometimes we do, too, and they can be helpful and necessary. But mostly, we have a relationship with a being so far beyond our comprehension that it is almost funny … and if God calls us to pivot, to reconsider, to switch it up, well, I hope and pray we will say yes. So the fourth point of comparison is a question of risk, and of faith: what do we need to let go of before we can say yes to God? 

I never did get clarity on what exactly people were saying when they called this “a country club church.” I suspect they were saying lots of different things. But whether or not this was accurate, the questions this comparison has surfaced are questions at the heart of our faith: matters of belonging, vocation, and identity. Whatever this church was, it is up to us to define what it is, because we are Christ Church now, and I am so glad to be a part of becoming the congregation God would have us be. It takes real faith and courage to stay in the not-knowing place – the place of transition and growth and discovery – long enough to hear the Holy Spirit speak, but it is here that we have the opportunity to say “Yes, if,” to God’s wild and wonderful invitations. As we turn our attention from the year that has passed to the year ahead, I want to highlight a few things on the horizon that give me hope and, I believe, will help us live into our truest identity as the body of Christ here and now

·      Vital+Thriving. I’m so excited to see how this initiative continues to bear fruit as we discover where God is at work in the world around us and how we might partner more fully with the Spirit. I have a sense that God is going to keep surprising us in 2024, and engaging the Vital+Thriving experiments will be a great adventure.

·      Master Planning. Last year we approved a five, ten and twenty-year vision for the maintenance and renovation of our buildings and grounds. We’ve made much progress on that this year. Both the kitchen remodel and new classroom construction will begin done this year. We’ve approved the installation of solar panels on the rectory and the new classroom buildings and will replace the roofs on the classroom wings this summer. The parish portions of this work will cost about $160,000. We’ll soon be reaching out to ask for your support in moving these initiatives forward, and I want to thank you in advance for prayerfully considering how you might be called to give of your time, talent, and treasure to help see this vision come to life.  

·      Ventana School. The growth of our school means the growth of our community. The vestry and I are working closely with Amanda and the school board to rewrite the school’s mission and vision. In fact, she and I are spending about ten hours in meetings this coming week to kick off this effort. As she mentioned in her report, Amanda and I will present at a National Association of Episcopal Schools conference in March about the intersection of our Reggio pedagogy and Episcopal identity. As Ventana grows, the parish sees financial benefit from increased tuition, so the vibrancy of this, our largest ministry, continues to be a great blessing to us. 

·      Staffing shifts. The 2024 budget we just approved includes two very part-time ministry positions. I’m thrilled to announce that parishioner Alice Landis Kochunov will be joining our staff as Minister for Adult Formation, charged with supporting programs, preaching regularly, and working closely with me to support education and spiritual formation. She’ll do this from her home in Houston, but will also be here in person several times this year, including for a weekend in February when she will preach and lead a Spiritual Rave. I could not be happier with Alice’s acceptance of this call and know she is going to be a great gift to us. I’m also delighted to share that Jenny Bishop, a lifelong parishioner and the art teacher at Ventana School, will be our Minister for Children and Families, continuing to gather the community on Wednesday evenings and working closely with me to support the youngest members of our congregation and their families. Jenny brings people together in creative and joyful ways and I can’t wait to see what she’ll bring to us in this role. More information on Alice and Jenny’s responsibilities will be shared soon. For now, I hope you’ll join me in celebrating their yes to God’s invitation to be of service here and now.   

·      Welcoming another priest. I’m delighted to share that we are likely to welcome another full-time priest to our congregation this summer. While we have been richly blessed by the gifts of Rev. Julie and Rev. Sheldon, having another full-time clergy person on staff will open up many possibilities for us, and being a part of a new priest’s formation is a sacred trust that I know you all will engage wholeheartedly. This is very much in progress but I believe I will have good news and more details to share soon. 

2024 is shaping up to be an incredible year for Christ Church. We’re going to welcome a new Bishop to the Diocese of California, and have two-full time priests in our congregation for the first time in over a decade. We’re going to see our campus begin to change. We’re going to see our school enrollment grow, and our wider community through fellowship, worship, and formation. When I came to Christ Church seven years ago, I was excited to be joining a congregation willing to rediscover its own identity in Christ. I trust that the year ahead will be illuminating in this regard. May the God who has brought us to this moment, and blessed us so richly on the way, watch over and shelter us as we move forward in faith, hope and love. Amen.