KNOXVILLE (Tenn.) — Sunday morning, a small group gathers around a firepit in a community garden beneath the massive box elder tree. The church is about to begin. It’s freezing outside.
“God our Father we are so grateful for this time that you have given us this morning,” Pastor Chris Battle says, a large man, his pipe tightly in his generous smile. “And we are grateful for the fire that keeps us warm as we sit under this tree. We pray for your blessings on our time together.
Battle left more than 30 years of leading Black Baptist churches to focus his efforts on Battlefield Farm & Gardens, Knoxville. They also grow vegetables and sell them at farmer’s markets. They also collect unwanted produce from the area and deliver it once per week to those living in public housing.
Battle claims he left traditional church because it was not connecting with him. Battle felt that they were being turned off by sermons, money pitches, and the Sunday-morning formality.
“So, I thought to myself, maybe it’s time to start doing church differently. What does this look like? “I didn’t realize that until I reached the garden.”
American Christianity is experiencing an identity crisis. The decline in attendance is especially evident among Gen Z and millennials who feel traditional church doesn’t reflect their reality.
Religious leaders are trying to find new ways to bring meaning into people’s lives. Many of those who visit Battlefield Gardens Sunday mornings claim they are looking for a faith community but have given up on traditional religion.
Kelly Sauskojus (a 27-year old PhD candidate in English) says that she is a refugee from fundamentalist churches.
“I need to take some time to just sit down and pray, or at least re-center, and see what’s going on in the world. Because the world is noisy. Then I want a church that does good things for your community.
Battle usually delivers a short sermon about the teachings and life of Jesus. They discuss it. They talk about it.
Battle states, “People will have conversations with me when they visit the garden.” If you tell them you are a pastor, they will change the conversation. They conceal their liquor. They stop cussing. Everything changes.”
He guffaws. “But tell them you’re a farmer, and they’ll tell you which color your thumb is. I was like “Wow!” Building relationships with gardeners. It’s not happening in the church. People are fleeing the church.
They are.
Gallup’s authoritative religion survey found that Americans were less than 50 percent of their worshippers last year. Seven out of 10 Americans went to church in 1937, the year Gallup’s poll was first conducted. According to the survey, only 47% of Americans were members of a synagogue, church or mosque in 2020, before the pandemic. Since 2000, it has been declining. Many churches and youth are experiencing an existential crisis as they reject organized religion.
Battlefield Farm offers a new kind of spiritual community. People can either come to Bible lessons or dig in the dirt.
“We want to build a community where people can love one another and love the world. He says, “Through collard greens & okra!” with a hearty laugh.
The Christian church is feeling this urge to try new things. Increasing numbers are a concern for once-thriving evangelical churches. Liberal mainline Protestants like the Lutherans and Methodists, Presbyterians and Episcopalians are losing members.
Knoxville’s Marble city United Methodist Church is an example. Although the stained-glass windows remain, today’s structure is home to an architectural firm and a Golden Roast Coffee Shop.
People stopped coming to the house of worship and tithing, so it was closed down a few years ago. They’re back now, but this time they’re going to the altar for caffeine.
“Every year, we close anywhere from two to five churches. Bradley Hyde, a Methodist pastor, sits at a table and sip java as the milk steamer roars behind him. “I believe people wanted to leave church already, and Covid gave them an opportunity to say goodbye. But a lot of people are not coming back,” Hyde said.
Hyde is currently in his 25 th year of ministry. He also sits on the Methodists regional Holston Conference East Tennessee.
Hyde claims that he conducted focus groups with his parishioners. He heard the same thing over-and-over: The church must do a better job connecting with the community. Now, the Bearden United Methodist church that he pastors does its own version of Battlefield’s Okra and Collards ministry in addition to regular worship. They take unsold produce from local vendors, and bring it back to church parking lot once per month.
Hyde states, “And now our community is finally getting word that we offer high quality produce that they can get for free.” It has made it easier to connect with our community.
Even as religious leaders see their congregations shrink, the people still long for spirituality.
The Rev. Caroline Vogel. Associate rector and director of Spiritus Knox at the Episcopal Church of the Ascension, Knoxville, she is also a spiritual practice and learning center.
It’s how we were made. She continues, “We need food, shelter, clothing, and we must also feed our souls in any way possible.” “And so, I believe there is this challenge: OK, we have been doing this for so many years, but it’s not working for people in an holistic way that meets their needs.”
Ascension has a solution to this problem: They reserve Sunday evenings for programs other than churchy, such as Breathing under Stained Glass. Around 30 people are seated on yoga mats on the Terracotta floor of the sanctuary, which is quiet and serene. Candles under the stained glass saints softly illuminate the space.
“Hah! … Hah! They yell “Hah!” in one of their breathing exercises. Vogel and the Rev. The exercises were led by Billy Daniel, who sat on pillows in front of the church.
Vogel soothes by saying, “Your human breath is infinitely connected to the divine breath.”
Other Sundays, the church hosts a Celtic service and a book group. Many of those who attend don’t go to regular church.
“I was raised independent Baptist and you can’t wear pants to church. So laying on a yoga floor mat was strange for me. Jamie Hampton, a 44 year-old Tennessee state employee, said that it was “fantastic”.
She claims that her husband and she stopped attending traditional churches six years ago, as it was not working for them.
“The feeling of the spirit and breathing is very important to me. It stays with me longer than a sermon or some hymns.
At the Battlefield Garden firepit, Chris Battle, Baptist Pastor, said that he used to measure success in a church using what he called “the BPs.”
“Butts and pews, bucks on the plate, baptisms at the pool, building programs. The BPs. He chuckles.
He was a senior pastor when the question was, “How can the church change its culture?” He says that today, the question is how can we change the culture in the church.
Copyright 2022 NPR. Copyright 2022 NPR.
