So, if you’re interested in some tips from a quasi-church planter about building a generous soulcare community, I’m happy to help. But be forewarned, this is not about gathering enough people to support a building and a staff. It’s not about meeting the goals of some church planting organization. And it’s definitely not about gaining an audience for all those really great sermons you’ve got brewing up there. These tips are for people who, above all else, want to take care of people’s souls. None of these tips will help you if you don’t really, really love people. If you want a church, go get yourself hired at one that already exists. But if you want to see people, including yourself, become more like Jesus, and if you want to extend the loving hand of Christ to the world, you might want to check this out. It’s not the only way, but it’s one way and it might be the right way for you.

1) Do not, under any circumstances write a mission statement. The very best thing we did, and this was out of sheer postmodern orneriness, was to avoid writing anything remotely like a mission statement. The truth of the matter was, we were starting something new, and we didn’t know what that thing was. We could describe who we were: seekers, art lovers, Jesus-y people, beer drinkers. And we could tell where we were going: we were following the yellow brick road towards something called “the kingdom.” But we weren’t sure what that would look like, or who would best lead us there, or what the best mode of transportation would be. We knew there was justice there, and shalom, and a lot less angst, but that was about it. So we just, you know, went.

Instead of writing a mission statement, which is very modern and puts requirements around who you are supposed to be before you are even born, why not try just describing who you are. Who’s gathering with you already? What do you love to do and why? Where do you suspect you might want to be, and how sure are you about that? Stick this up on a website. Change it every six to twelve months. Your mission will emerge out of your very being, out of the unique combination of creatures that you are. It will--dare I say it--emerge. And it will be good. Trust me.

2) Make experimentation a (sub)cultural value. If you don’t have a mission statement, how do you know what to do? Well, you lean into your longings and you end up building the church you’d actually want to go to. You’re never going to get this right on the very first try. So if you spend a long weekend retreat hammering out a mission statement, you’re only going to regret it. Instead, you’ve got to experiment.

When we first started we knew we needed art, and we knew we were done with sermons. We knew that we wanted to spend time outside the castle walls and we knew we loved pagans. We knew there was a lot of stuff about our religion that we didn’t actually believe, and we knew we needed a place to sort that out. We knew we didn’t entirely trust “leaders” but we knew we could teach and learn from one another.

Finding out how to meet these needs took us off the charts. We often felt we were in one of those old medieval maps, way off on the edges where elegant script reads, “Monsters Lie Here.” We were in uncharted waters. This meant we had to try a lot of things, and some of our experiments failed. But we learned to see failure as a positive thing, because it helped us refine our hypothesis and move on to the next trial. (Hmm, lectio divina with live harp music lulled us all to sleep. Let’s try it next time with a little Moby in the back ground….)

If you make a willingness to experiment a cultural value, you will be able to uncover what your particular community in your particular culture needs to thrive. Learn to see failure as just one happy answer to a hypothesis, and move on to the next wonderful experiment. Oh, and on a side note, honoring experimentation will also allow you to gather people who have the flexibility required to do this groundbreaking work of building a new kind of Christian. Reformers must, above all things, be agile. For one thing they must be supple enough to say “I’m sorry” and flexible enough to stretch towards new things. Rigidness and reformation do not mix, at least not in post modernity

3) Keep it Simple. Planting a church may be hard, but growing a generous soulcare community isn’t so arduous. Start by making the table your altar. Eat simple meals together regularly and enjoy the conversation. Anchor your celebration with a simple ritual of breaking bread or saying grace. Then, find a rhythm to live by. Follow the seasons as anchor points for celebration and reflection. Make an annual practice of celebrating spiritually oriented holidays. Whenever possible, dance in the overlap. Emphasize the places where your belief systems and faith practices coincide, and celebrate those. Our neighborhood is very connected to the solstices. Since these celebrate the return of the light, and we celebrate the Light of the world, it’s easy for us to join one another’s celebrations. Try different practices, celebrations and rituals, and then lean into the ones that feed you best. Learn to practice dialogue instead of debate. Listen to each other's beliefs and practices. Create a culture that doesn't require people to be on the same page religiously. For instance, our words in passing the bread and wine are simply, “God loves us.” This allows everyone to participate, no matter what their current understanding is about Jesus. Be open to learning from belief systems other than your own. And finally, sink into story. Know your family's holy stories and find culturally current ways to celebrate age-old tales. This doesn’t need to be complicated. It could be as simple as taking turns telling a story from your past that influenced your spiritual development, or asking a neighbor to share with your group some practice that’s been life-giving to them. My neighbor Pamm—a numerologist and a jewelry artist -- recently came to Monkfish to help us make prayer beads. She taught us the traditional meanings behind various stones and colors and helped us weave deeper meanings into our prayer bead projects

4) Stop measuring success by size, tithes, or buildings. Honestly, as a former church planter this has been the hardest thing for me to let go of. Whenever I attend a denominational gathering or a conference of any kind, the question, “How’s the church going?” is always answered by one of two things: the size of the congregation or the size of the building. Not all communities are meant to be large. It’s may be more important to pay attention to the details of just a few lives, then to gloss over many souls with a common coat of varnish. Be okay with being small. Learn to love bi-vocationality and look outside the box for less costly places to gather. Watch for how a few people who are trained to be present to those around them can dramatically change lives by small, un-dramatic actions. Validate what you are doing when you follow the road less traveled—if that’s your path of obedience, then it’s right where you should be. And finally, learn to redefine success. It’s taken me several years, but now, when someone asks me “How’s your church?” I answer: “We just made the best prayer flags for Pakistan--which makes me think people are beginning to understand the importance of looking beyond our own fences.” Or, “We’ve just helped two people in a toxic marriage make a good end.” Or, “Well, not everyone is sure exactly who Jesus is, but everyone is getting closer to God.”

Forming a community is a grand adventure. It’s a little like heading down the yellow brick road. When Dorothy and her pals set out they knew only one thing – the path would lead them to what their hearts most desired. They didn’t know what tools they would need, or what supplies they should gather. They just set out, homeward, looking for the place where each would be made whole. Along the way they found that each would lead a leg of the journey, and that between them all they would have what they needed. May you have what you need for your journey: heart, brains, and above all, courage.

Shalom!