Does anyone remember typewriters?
Long ago, I took my very first reporting class at Baylor University. The legendary Jprof David McHam ran this lab as a mini-newsroom. McHam would sit in the “slot” of a U-shaped desk, working with students as we turned in our rough drafts.
I heard him say this many times: “The story is all here, but you wrote it in the wrong order,” or words to that effect. McHam would take his copy-desk pica pole (the birthday cake cutter of choice in newsrooms) and rip our typewriter copy into multiple horizontal pieces, before putting them in a new order, secured with a long strip of clear tape. Then he would say: “Go write the story in that order.”
More often than not, the wise Jprof found crucial information and pulled it higher in the story — if not into the lede itself. In many cases, this was information that created a tension with a simple version of the “news” in the lede. In other words, he was pushing us to acknowledge that many stories were more complex than we wanted to think they were.
With that in mind, let’s look at an important COVID-tide story from the Associated Press: “At many churches, pandemic hits collection plates, budgets.”
Note the word “many” in that headline. I think many readers would assume that the coronavirus pandemic has caused disasters in pews and pulpits and that is that. The evidence, in this story, is more complex than that — especially with a little bit of cutting and pasting. Here is the overture:
Biltmore United Methodist Church of Asheville, North Carolina, is for sale.
Already financially strapped because of shrinking membership and a struggling preschool, the congregation was dealt a crushing blow by the coronavirus. Attendance plummeted, with many staying home or switching to other churches that stayed open the whole time. Gone, too, is the revenue the church formerly got from renting its space for events and meetings.
“Our maintenance costs are just exorbitant,” said the Rev. Lucy Robbins, senior pastor. “And we just don’t have the resources financially that we used to have to be able to do the kind of ministry work that we would like.”
Here comes the summary material:
Biltmore is just one of an untold number of congregations across the country that have struggled to stay afloat financially and minister to their flocks during the pandemic, though others have managed to weather the storm, often with help from the federal government’s Paycheck Protection Program, or PPP, and sustained levels of member donations.
The coronavirus hit at a time when already fewer Americans were going to worship services — with at least half of the nearly 15,300 congregations surveyed in a 2020 report by Faith Communities Today reporting weekly attendance of 65 or less — and exacerbated the problems at smaller churches where increasingly lean budgets often hindered them from things like hiring full-time clergy.
The first time I read this story I zipped write past these words — “though others have managed to weather the storm.” One reason I missed that was that this summary statement was followed by another massive chunk of material about struggling churches of various sizes and traditions.
Hear me say this: All of that material is valid.
But way, way down in this long feature is the following information. What I am saying is that the story would be strengthened — refocused, even — if this information was pulled higher and placed after that “summary material.” Here’s the information that, with a digital pica pole and tape, I would pull higher.
More broadly, various other surveys and reports show a mixed picture on congregational giving nationwide.
Gifts to religious organizations grew by 1% to just over $131 billion in 2020, a year when Americans also donated a record $471 billion overall to charity, according to an annual report by GivingUSA. Separately, a September survey of 1,000 protestant pastors by the evangelical firm Lifeway Research found about half of congregations received roughly what they budgeted for last year, with 27% getting less than anticipated and 22% getting more.
At this point, it would be logical to offer readers some “bad” news — from that 27% — and some of the “good” news from the nearly 75% of churches that were meeting their budgets and-or doing better.
This raises a question that I am pretty sure would be impossible to answer at this time, but it still needed to be asked: Why did some churches struggle, while so many didn’t?
In my own tradition, I know that some Orthodox parishes have struggled during the pandemic, while others have actually grown — even if there were painful challenges to meet.
This AP report notes a hopeful case in a progressive congregation in the city that many Texans refer to as The People’s Republic of Austin. Right church in the right marketplace? Here is some of that material:
Hope Presbyterian Church in Austin, Texas, a largely upper-middle-class congregation of about 400, is among those that have enjoyed relative stability despite the pandemic.
The Rev. Josh Robinson had expected contributions to drop off when in-person services paused for more than a year, but they remained steady. So have member pledges for upcoming gifts in 2022. Some in the congregation even donated their government stimulus checks to the church, which used them to set up a fund to provide direct financial assistance to those who lost income due to the pandemic. …
Even before, the church had embraced frugality in order to pay down its debt, which has fallen from $2 million in 2013 to less than $300,000 today.
This is a church from the “steady” 50% or so. What churches managed to grow? Were there church-growth experts with any theories as to why this happened?
My predictions: Look for children and converts.
FIRST IMAGE: A copy-and-paste illustration from Giphy.com