I was driving somewhere around the glorious Good Roads State this weekend and musing about public funding — whether it was public education, public radio, public transport, it’s not really important. But I did get around to the question of institutions of teaching, finally.
The South is so full of long-established churches with imposing, or at least respectable, buildings, staff, and so forth, I think many of us don’t consider the most basic lesson in ecclesiology ? to wit, “the church” is not equivalent to “the building” or any of the rest of the permitted-but-not-commanded expedients we categorize by that title. In our rapidly growing county, there are a number of church “plants” as we call them, little congregations just starting out (i.e. being “planted”) — I’ve been involved in several over the years. Their genesis is instructive.
So how does the future “Second Baptist Church of Four Oaks” begin? Someone, either locally or with an interest in the area, discovers a need for religious instruction. As a member of a historically-particular group myself, I know it doesn’t have to be a lack of all Christian teaching or even of Baptist doctrines generally — just a perceived need for one specific confession.
And then? Then a core group of interested individuals is gathered, sometimes from a sponsoring congregation, sometimes locally, and a leader selected or recognized. As a group, they determine what their needs are for instruction and ministry, and the leader determines what his need for compensation or support may be. Once that much is agreed upon, a permanent trial is well underway.
Interestingly enough, if everyone is minding their scriptures, a pastor can be settled on a permanent basis with only nine or ten households involved. That theoretically allows a preacher to be fully supported in the work, in a manner comparable to his congregation’s average standard of living, without outside donations (like subsidies from another church’s home missions fund). It does not allow for a lot of desireable nice-to-haves like a regular building, an organ, or other fixtures of a traditional church organization. I have worshipped in private homes, tiny book stores, hotel meeting rooms, and public school cafeterias; several churches in the Clayton area have started out in the party facilities at a local bowling alley.
But going back to that first consideration, the point of the exercise is not choosing the color of the vestibule carpet, but forming a gathering of believers for religious exercise and instruction. If the Lord blesses and the endeavor grows, the other things follow in their course.
The point of all this is that we are too quick as a society to try and work from the external structure back to the central, fundamental purpose, rather than otherwise. When pioneers needed a school, they built one (or borrowed the church building) and pooled their resources to hire a teacher (or borrowed the pastor). When immigrants wanted a business, they started a van pool, bought a pushcart, began catering from their kitchen. The limo fleet, storefront, or restaurant came later.
And some of this still goes on, in private systems operating in parallel to the giant publicly-funded institutions. Anyone who has attended a recently-founded Christian college (not the Dukes and Wake Forests of the world) can vouch for their minimalist approach in facilities, dormitories, and the like, at least in the early years, because the whole exercise is focused on the core purpose — education of a particular sort. Likewise private schools using a Sunday school building the rest of the week, not to mention my favorite people who teach a class of three around their kitchen table.
This isn’t intended as a slam against the public school system, but simply a thought which applies in a lot of areas. So much of what is spent in the public realm (and corporate, too) goes to the nice-to-have features, the institutional equipage; yet a look around the private sector shows examples of more humble but quite effective endeavors, succeeding because their limited resources are stretched to cover the key functions first.
The architect’s dictum, function defines form, applies to more than just buildings, and it certainly stands consideration long past an organization’s startup phase. Public funding doesn’t change the fact — if anything, the use of the public’s money argues strongly for that fundamental discipline. Think about that when Leandro is discussed.
