Roseto, Pennsylvania is the type of classic small town that moviemakers look for as a setting for scenes of quintessential Americana. Its population has fluctuated by only a couple hundred people over the last century. From all appearances, things have frozen in time.
But look a little deeper, beyond the fabric of the General Sewing Machine Company’s antique façade, and you find a community that, despite appearances, experiences life much differently than in days gone by. Based on a 1960s study, Roseto became known for a cultural anomaly where the health of Roseto residents, especially cardiovascular well being, was dramatically better than American norms. Residents of Roseto had significantly fewer heart attacks, even without adhering to a heart-healthy diet or doing regular exercise. The study found that this predominantly Italian borough had all the telltale signs of a community on the verge of cardiac arrest: pervasive smoking, drinking, and a diet rich in red meat and fat. But it had very few heart attacks, widowers outnumbered widows, and men over 65 were twice as likely to outlive the national averages.
What caused this? According to the study, it was due to Roseto’s sociological framework. Roseto residents experienced an emotional well being that greatly aided their physical fortitude. When asked the key ingredient to the physiological and emotional vibrancy of Roseto, Dr. Stewart Wolf, the lead researcher in the Roseto study, used one word: community.
Community is a buzzword today. In churches we have even created Christianese jargon such as “doing life together” and “life on life.” But such language reflects our desire to identify what most of us truly long for—deep, meaningful, supportive relationships.
The pastors’ conferences I attend are full of conversations about how to connect parishioners to one another. This connection is vital to church life; being connected to others (along with a desire to know God more deeply) is a primary reason people attend a particular church. Without that key social dynamic, a church will likely spin its wheels trying to attract and keep people.
What can Roseto teach the church? It’s crucial to note that each demographic group in Roseto was not isolated but deeply interconnected. Like the renowned lasagna served in this mostly Italian borough, each layer of the community—young, old, single, married, white collar, or workers in the nearby slate quarries—intermingled until all of its social ingredients became less independent and amalgamated into something completely communal. The health of the community came not from the segregated grouping of its individual components, but rather the sum of all its parts.
Simply put, healthy life-giving community does not happen by compartmentalizing each element of our congregations into separate groups. Rather, community thrives when all of its parts are dependent upon one another and interacting in meaningful ways.
Reassessing our values
If we are going to move toward true community, the kind of community where youth and seniors build friendship, where marrieds, divorced, and singles depend on each other for relational support, and where ethnic and economic barriers are removed, it might mean reassessing not only our methodology, but also our values.
We live in an age where church growth is often valued beyond church health.
The first question we need to ask relates to the kind of churches we are trying to fashion. Are we committed to building the healthiest church possible, or are we satisfied with whatever we have as long as it grows and tithes? It is sometimes easier to lead an unhealthy but financially stable church than do the hard work of building a healthy church. We live in an age where church growth is often valued beyond church health. Most pastors are asked, “How big is your church?” We are almost never asked about the health of our church or the vibrancy of its relationships.
Two years ago I became the pastor of a 65-member, almost 100-year-old congregation whose mean age was close to 63. I faced a decision. I knew what people typically want from “culturally relevant” churches: great speakers and worship, a modern look, clean bathrooms, and a visible and vibrant kids program. I also knew that since this was a financially healthy church, we had the margin to pay for all of this. But something deep within whispered to me to resist the urge to buy church growth with programming for the various demographic segments. Don’t give people all that they want; give them what they need. Refuse to give them an unhealthy product. Instead, give them a place to call home.
Desegregating the congregation
We have become experts at servicing the individual’s needs in segregated settings, rather than developing a multi-layered and integrated community like the one in Roseto.
If you’re single, we ship you off to the Friday night singles event. The marrieds get their annual retreat and couples groups. Our seniors have their patriotic lunches and ball games. The teens have all the frivolity of youth group events, and our kids get VBS, sports camps, and summer movie nights on the lawn.
While none of these things are wrong, the problem is what’s ignored. Ecclesia and koinonia—Greek words that express the vast richness of Christian community, with its unity amid diversity—have been watered down to say something closer to “Have we got something for you (and others just like you)!”
Reconstructing our expectations
A few weeks ago I got a call from a woman wanting to find out about our church. She asked me if we were a “full-service church.” Having recently come from pastoring at a large church with a full quiver of ministries and interest groups, I was pretty sure I knew what she was asking, but I played coy and asked her to explain. She told me that she was a middle-aged, single mom with High School kids. She was interested in a women’s Bible study and an outdoors ministry. She also wanted to be part of a mission trip, if possible.
The first thing I wanted to ask her was if she meant to call a church or an activities center. I felt like a greeter at Wal-Mart: “Yes, we have all our studies on aisle nine, and you can choose your missions adventure in the seasonal section.” I restrained myself, as the last thing this woman needed was a sassy quip from one of the very people who helped create this understanding of church.
While this woman was able to articulate exactly what she wanted our church to offer, what my spiritual ears heard was her asking for a place for her and her kids to belong, to be known, and to grow deep roots in the body of Christ. While I knew we might not be able to offer her everything on her wish list, I was confident this body of believers could provide for her family's primary need, though it might not look like what she had become accustomed to. What we had to offer her was not a series of segregated programs, but a chance to belong in a real community.
As the conversation unfolded, I told her about Kai Adler and his wife Bev. Kai is an elder in our church who is a world-class mountaineer. He had been talking about getting some of our people out on the trail. I raved about some of the godly older women in our community who might be great personal mentors for her. I mentioned some of our missions partners who have invited our people to come and help. I shared about our student ministries and the kids who call this church home and have friendships with others, both younger and older.
Whether or not what I offered her qualifies us as a full-service church, others will have to judge. But I offered her a home. She would have to decide she wanted to make this community her own.
Taking sharp turns
Here is where a dramatic change needs to happen. As leaders, we need to commit to valuing life together more than numerical growth. On the other hand, our members should be willing to do the hard work of relationship building even more than they are willing to pursue their greatest felt needs. Singles need to come to a church to be known rather than looking for the best place to find a mate. Marrieds will have to get out of their bubble to talk about something other than kids. Seniors might need to put up with some extra noise around the church as the youth are included, and our kids will have to develop the long lost art of conversation with adults.
My own 8-year-old daughter, Lucy, spends an hour each week with 83-year-old Vrenli, who tutors her and takes time to do some baking. It’s one of Lucy’s favorite times of the week.
Churches that value creating diverse support networks know that it is hard work, much harder than producing a top-notch worship experience or giving clean drinking water to impoverished communities. A great question to ask ourselves is, Are we putting as much care, thought, and attention into making sure the wide range of life stages are relating to each other as we are into what we present each week on the stage?
Churches committed to diverse and interconnected community also know that one of the best uses of the stage is harnessing its influence to highlight the community at large. Why? Because our values need not only be spoken, but also seen. At our church, we do this by presenting a multi-generational worship team each week. We make sure those individuals or couples that do our announcements also represent the wide range of demographics within our community.
But perhaps the most powerful component in creating the healthiest of kingdom communities is the attention we give to developing our community groups—any micro-community within our church structure that meets on a regular basis. These include our setup and breakdown teams, small groups, Bible studies, and worship and media teams. While we have a handful of life-stage groups, our goal is to make sure these groups are diverse as possible. Marrieds serve beside singles, widows attend home fellowships with young families, and many of our children are mentored and cared for by our seniors. My own 8-year-old daughter, Lucy, spends an hour each week with 83-year-old Vrenli, who tutors her and takes time to do some baking. It’s one of Lucy’s favorite times of the week.
Now in our third year together, our church has flourished beyond what we could have ever have hoped. But more importantly, it has become a diverse community no longer dominated by one life stage. We are experiencing many of the positive effects of the Roseto effect. Lives are being transformed in a way that only happens when we live life as a combined flock.
Sadly for the town in Pennsylvania, Roseto lost its effect. As the community modernized, its people quit living the integrated community life they once led. Individualism became the goal, and within 10 years, according to a later study, the emotional and physical benefits that it once enjoyed disintegrated. Roseto now reflects the same diminished health as the rest of our population.
Like Roseto, our believing communities have a choice to either mirror the disenfranchised culture we live in or to create something countercultural and life giving. We must commit to experiencing Christ in us, which is perhaps more important than experiencing Christ in me.
Adam Stadtmiller is pastor of LaJolla Christian Fellowship in LaJolla, California.
