I live in a two-church family. This is how it works

 

This past weekend I had the opportunity to volunteer at the annual Festival that St. Joseph of the Lakes Catholic church shares every year during the second full weekend of August. This is a big deal in our household as my wife, Amy, chaired the team that ran the Festival. The team that coordinates the Festival works very hard—and once again provided terrific leadership. They had a challenging year in their planning. Their main musical act on Saturday night, GB Leighton, had to pull out for health reasons; they weren’t sure at certain moments if they could have fireworks and even last week the City of Lino Lakes hadn’t issued a liquor license. 

Just getting such a parish of thousands of families to be on the same page regarding the purpose of this event is not always easy.  

I helped out at the Pull Tab stand on Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon. I led outdoor worship at Chain of Lakes on Sunday morning and then went over to St. Joe’s for the afternoon. I even missed the Chain of Lakes golf tournament that took place on Sunday, so I could be at the Festival.

Hundreds of people attend the Festival. When I drove over to the church early Sunday afternoon the parking lot was full.

Ever since Amy and I met we have been a two-church family. During our very first phone conversation, Amy asked me about my profession. “I’m the pastor of the Presbyterian church in Plainview,” I said. “Well that’s interesting,” she replied.

And indeed it has been “interesting.” Not “interesting” in a passive-aggressive way. Instead “interesting” in that it is truly “interesting” to learn and participate in a different faith tradition.

Amy and I are both religious professionals. I've been a pastor since being ordained in 1993. When I first met Amy she was the Administrator at a Real Estate company in Rochester. She then got her Masters in Servant Leadership. And when the Administrator position of the Catholic church where we attended became open, she applied and got the job. When we moved to Blaine, a similar position became open at St. Joseph of the Lakes. She got the job.

I participate at St. Joseph’s of the Lakes. I am on the schedule to be the Cantor at their Saturday afternoon Mass; I volunteer my time on occasion; and I’ve gotten to know many of the families who attend. I even received a volunteer appreciation certificate from the congregation. When I received it, I thought that I might be the only Presbyterian pastor in the country who has a volunteer appreciation certificate from the local Catholic church.

Amy participates at Chain of Lakes even more than I participate at St. Joseph’s of the Lakes. She attends worship at Chain of Lakes almost every Sunday. She led the Praise Band when we were in between staff people and currently sings in the Band. She participates in small groups and serves.

Our faith brings us together—it is the foundation of our relationship. We don’t look at St. Joseph’s of the Lakes as her congregation or Chain of Lakes as my congregation. We see them as unique places where each community of people is living into the call that God is sharing with them. Amy and I want to see each congregation succeed in an extravagant way.  

It's not like Amy is Catholic, and I'm Presbyterian. Instead we're followers of Jesus who travel on this journey together. Our identity is formed in an expansive faith that is not divided by labels.

What had made our two-church relationship work is each of us wants to participate. We don't participate out of obligation. I want to participate in the choir at St. Joseph’s of the Lakes. I don’t need to be reminded by Amy to sign up for a date to cantor. Amy wants to be in worship at Chain of Lakes. I never have to ask her if she is attending worship. She values the friendships she has made. She wants to see people of the congregation.

Amy and I have almost identical beliefs about God and the church. Sometimes we’ll discover that we look at an idea differently—but not often.

Our daughter, Hannah, has participated in both congregations and is certainly a better person because of this. She has been surrounded her entire life by adults who care for her. It doesn’t matter if these adults attend the Catholic church or the Presbyterian church. What matters is she learned that adults care for her and that she can trust adults. Someone once asked me if Hannah would be confused by attending two different congregations as Presbyterians and Catholics don't agree on faith. First of all, Presbyterians and Catholics agree on more matters of faith than we disagree. Plus, Hannah has the intelligence to sort our her own personal beliefs. She's not confused at all--in fact she's been enriched by her experiences. 

I actually dream of having one church in each community—one place where people attend each weekend. I don’t think this will ever happen in my lifetime, but I take Jesus seriously when he said in John 17 that he wanted his followers to be one. I don’t think Jesus wants to see his church divided into three branches and hundreds of denominations. 

At a minimum I would love it if every congregation could see themselves as satellites of the one church. Some large churches have satellite congregations. What if every congregation saw itself as a satellite of the one church? People of faith would then not see themselves as all that different from their neighbors who attend different churches. 

The metaphor that I often use for describing faith is a path. We ride in different cars on that path. Amy grew up riding in the Catholic car; I grew up riding in the Presbyterian car. We get in each other's car. Sometimes she drives; sometimes I drive. We enjoy the view from each of our cars. My dream is that followers of Jesus will travel together in a large bus.

Neither Amy and I ever thought that we would land in a two-church family. It’s a good life. And hopefully our lives illustrate what God desires for God’s church.