Article by Father Tom Ehrich
12/25/08 10:55 PM
I grew up in the state
that almost became Michigan and often passed through
the town that almost became Detroit.
In the early years of the automotive industry, the two centers of innovation were Detroit and Auburn, Indiana. The latter gave America some of its early icons of motoring: the Cord, the Duesenberg and the Auburn.
As it happened, auto production settled in the Detroit area because the Great Lakes promised better transportation of raw materials. Auburn settled into life as a county seat town, now numbering around 12,000.
Despite Auburn's fade, Indiana became a major player in the auto industry. I grew up around assembly plants, component plants, parts suppliers, and the up-and-down lives of union workers. As the US auto industry craters, I can feel the agonies that automakers, auto suppliers, auto workers and auto towns are going through. They are losing more than jobs. They are losing an entire way of life. The very paradigm of existence in dozens of small cities is evaporating.
I don't have an informed opinion on whether Congress should bail out GM, Ford and Chrysler. But I do know some of how they got to the verge of collapse. They refused to innovate. They refused to adapt to the changing tastes of their costumers. They refused to accept a global paradigm shift in use of carbon fuels. They refused to slim down their payroll, especially in middle and upper management, and to speed up product development. They refused to learn from others.
Detroit's stubborn refusals have their mirror in every failing enterprise, including churches. In my consulting work, I often use Ford's obsession with the F150 truck as an example of what drags churches under.
For all of its problems, including tight finances, St. Bart's has avoided these stubborn refusals. Here the entrepreneurial spirit is alive. Innovation occurs, as do adaptation, right-sizing, "product" development, and sensitivity to a volatile marketplace. This isn't a quiet or peaceful place to be, as the world knows peace. But it is profoundly alive and "peace-filled," in the sense that Jesus meant.
As you know, this isn't an "easy" place to be a priest or a parishioner. Not only is the work hard for all of us, but the congregation's dedication to serving means engagement in the restless churning of a changing world.
But I'd rather go home unsettled from a church engaged than go home bored from a church asleep.
Fr. Ehrich, who is widely known for his syndicated column, is now on the staff of St. Bartholomew's in New York City, the famous landmark church on Park Ave.
In the early years of the automotive industry, the two centers of innovation were Detroit and Auburn, Indiana. The latter gave America some of its early icons of motoring: the Cord, the Duesenberg and the Auburn.
As it happened, auto production settled in the Detroit area because the Great Lakes promised better transportation of raw materials. Auburn settled into life as a county seat town, now numbering around 12,000.
Despite Auburn's fade, Indiana became a major player in the auto industry. I grew up around assembly plants, component plants, parts suppliers, and the up-and-down lives of union workers. As the US auto industry craters, I can feel the agonies that automakers, auto suppliers, auto workers and auto towns are going through. They are losing more than jobs. They are losing an entire way of life. The very paradigm of existence in dozens of small cities is evaporating.
I don't have an informed opinion on whether Congress should bail out GM, Ford and Chrysler. But I do know some of how they got to the verge of collapse. They refused to innovate. They refused to adapt to the changing tastes of their costumers. They refused to accept a global paradigm shift in use of carbon fuels. They refused to slim down their payroll, especially in middle and upper management, and to speed up product development. They refused to learn from others.
Detroit's stubborn refusals have their mirror in every failing enterprise, including churches. In my consulting work, I often use Ford's obsession with the F150 truck as an example of what drags churches under.
For all of its problems, including tight finances, St. Bart's has avoided these stubborn refusals. Here the entrepreneurial spirit is alive. Innovation occurs, as do adaptation, right-sizing, "product" development, and sensitivity to a volatile marketplace. This isn't a quiet or peaceful place to be, as the world knows peace. But it is profoundly alive and "peace-filled," in the sense that Jesus meant.
As you know, this isn't an "easy" place to be a priest or a parishioner. Not only is the work hard for all of us, but the congregation's dedication to serving means engagement in the restless churning of a changing world.
But I'd rather go home unsettled from a church engaged than go home bored from a church asleep.
Fr. Ehrich, who is widely known for his syndicated column, is now on the staff of St. Bartholomew's in New York City, the famous landmark church on Park Ave.