It was the best buy ever. At a garage sale, my mother-in-law found several seasons of “Star Trek: The Next Generation” on VHS tapes. Total cost? $ 5.00. As Nazarene missionaries in West Africa, we wore the tapes out, watching episodes over-and-over.
One episode still haunts me. In “Remember Me” (Season 4, Episode 5), the ship’s Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Beverly Crusher, is caught in a warp bubble caused by her brilliant teenage son, Wesley, during an experiment gone awry. Gradually, all the people she knows inexplicably disappear, until in the climax scene, she’s sitting alone with Captain Jean-Luc Picard on the bridge. Of all people, surely he would understand what’s going on! “Haven’t you noticed the people disappearing?” she pleads. “What people?” he replies, a wan smile on his face. She names her crew mates one-by-one – Security Chief Mr. Wharf, Engineer Geordi Laforge, First Officer Will Riker, Counselor Deanna Troy. The captain sits there passively, finally offering unconvincing explanations why a tiny crew is sufficient. Determined to get to the bottom of things, she protests: “I suppose it makes sense to you that you and I are the only ones flying around in this huge star ship!” She then turns her back for a split second, and poof! Captain Picard himself is gone.
Something about that episode with the disappearing crew evokes how I feel at this moment in the history of the Church of the Nazarene (USA/Canada). I’ve been a Nazarene from birth, my parents presenting me for baby dedication at the Calvary Church of the Nazarene in Arlington, Virginia. When my mother handed me over to the pastor, he momentarily lost his grip. The congregation audibly gasped, but the pastor recovered quickly, catching me before my head hit the wooden altar rail. The sad part is, I can’t go back and see that altar. The Calvary Church of the Nazarene no longer exists. Like Dr. Crusher in the collapsing warp bubble, I sense its absence. A part of my story has vanished.
From December 1988 until July 1993, I pastored the First Church of the Nazarene in Sedalia, Missouri. We were never a large church; the high water mark was when we hit 107 on a Sunday morning. I told the people that if we broke 100, I’d let them smash a pie in my face. I was happy to taste lemon meringue that day! But like the Arlington Calvary church, I can’t go back. When the church closed its doors a few years ago, I grieved.
A few months ago, I visited the website of the district where I grew up. Clicking on the link labeled “churches,” I found new names for a handful of churches that had been planted since then, new growth for which I praised the Lord. However, I also searched in vain for a number of churches where I’d sung gospel concerts as a teenager with my family. They’re gone, closed and sold off.
It’s a story that’s repeating itself again and again across U.S. districts – churches closed, parsonages and buildings sold. Like the collapsing bubble on the U.S.S. Enterprise, little-by-little, things are disappearing. Have we noticed?
This collapse for me feels personal. Our lives are interconnected. It’s relationships lost, and with people vanishing, it’s demoralizing. It’s the bright young ministry student I taught at one of our Nazarene Universities – gone. It’s the veteran religion faculty member who’s an excellent preacher, who loves the Lord and loved his Nazarene ministry students – gone. It’s the family member who grew up in the Church of the Nazarene but cannot in good conscience stay any longer – gone. Little-by-little, bit-by-bit, I look around and think: “I haven’t seen _____ in a while.” Quietly, with no fanfare, they’re gone – like Captain Picard when Dr. Crusher turned her back for just a second – disappeared. Poof.
We’re having trouble finding pastors to fill churches. I wonder why that is? Are Nazarene youth being surveyed to find out what keeps them from ministry in our denomination? Are youth who have already left been asked why they left? If they are bold enough to answer honestly, what will we do with that information?
Let’s do better than Captain Picard who dismissed Dr. Crusher’s concerns, denying that any crew were missing. May God give us the grace to face reality and the courage to change what we must.
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Image credit
Enterprise-D_crew_quarters.jpg: Derek Springer from Los Angeles, CA, USAPatrickStewart2004-08-03.jpg: Cdt. Patrick Caughey[1]derivative work: Loupeznik, CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Gregory Crofford 
Thank you. You do not grieve alone.
Grace and peace to you I am certain you find yourself with many whose lives have no access to a critical element of history.
Perhaps we would do well to have a memorial role for lost churches.
Joe
Thank you, Joe. Yes – that would be a good idea but unlikely to be enacted due to our business- influenced ecclesiology.
Thank you for your Aug. 4 blog. I too have a sense of loss. I’m a retired pastor of small Nazarene churches. Two guys I graduated from NTS have left the church. One went Pentecostal and the other became a criminal.
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div>My first Church closed 20 years after I left. And since General Assembly, one of my pastor friends has returned his credentials because of the outrageous things th
Thanks, Tom – It looks like your comment trailed off at the end. Care to elaborate?