By Rev. Dr. Katie Day
Last April in Philadelphia, Partners for Sacred Places organized a National Convening on “Activating Hidden Assets,” in which over 100 leaders from multiple sectors gathered to focus on the future of at-risk sacred places and the communities they serve. This assembly of stakeholders—from religion, government, architecture and preservation, media, philanthropy, academia, the arts, and human service nonprofits—had not been seated around the table together before. Their charge: to find innovative ways to preserve and fully utilize sacred spaces as assets for congregations and their communities. New thinking was sparked, new strategies imagined, and new partnerships considered. There was a strong, hopeful synergy turning the now-familiar narrative of religious decline on its head.
John Bridgeland giving a speech at the National Convening.
One of the speakers, John Bridgeland—well known as a big-picture thinker and national leader in generating civic innovation—was the first to identify the effort as a “movement,” a word echoed by other speakers and participants. In describing the excitement in the room, Bridgeland said, “It felt like a revival.” However, does excitement translate into a movement for social change? Or was this an exciting but all-too-fleeting moment?
Social scientists have long analyzed how change in society happens; the dynamics are complex and multifaceted. Sometimes individuals coalesce into groups with a common cause and identity and collectively work to bring change to society. These movements can be as large as the American Civil Rights Movement or smaller and more localized, such as efforts to bring economic opportunities to a neighborhood. Some are impactful, while some fizzle. Movements change and often beget other movements. Many of us have participated in at least one social movement. We have sensed that what we are doing is important and will improve our common life—and that we can do more by working together than as individuals. We are better together.
But what mobilizes people to change a social condition or problem? Certainly, emotion can energize, which is important, but it is not enough to sustain a movement, even though it might ignite one. Other elements also need to be present.
Stanford University sociologist Douglas McAdam identified five necessary ingredients for any movement for social change. None of them individually is enough to spark a movement. The stars must align in time and place.
Tour of New River Presbyterian Church.
First, there must be a grievance. Adverse social conditions can be tolerated for decades (for example, the health risks of widespread tobacco use). It is not until a condition is reframed as a problem that change can begin. We now see that there is a widespread problem with historic sacred places that are vulnerable because of declining congregations and the lack of resources they need to sustain aging buildings. This is not a new phenomenon but a condition that has been around for decades. As Bishop Jennifer Baskerville-Burrows described in her presentation at the Convening, many historic sacred places have been in a gradual, continuing process of decline and deterioration, but now the situation has reached a crisis point. Like the proverbial frog in the kettle, we can adapt to and even accept a reality without seeing it as a social problem. The Convening shone a bright, focused light on the issue, illustrating how much public good is lost when sacred places close and are razed or reused. But it is not enough to have a grievance, however compelling. The next steps are critical to move people beyond distress and regret.
There also must be a sense of moral imperative—a growing sense of urgency that something must be done. This entails making the case, gathering data, framing the issue as a problem that we must address. The entire Convening, from invitations to prereading to presentations and breakout discussions, was all about this: framing a compelling argument and moral basis for acting. Even so, this only goes so far. Enlightening people and calling on moral reasoning does not necessarily mean that you will get them to act.
A third essential ingredient is a shift in political opportunity, a “sparking event,” something that alters the status quo. It can be a catastrophic event or an opening of possibility. This new reality creates a tipping point that unleashes frustration with a problem and translates into resolve to work to change it. In downtown Reading, Pennsylvania, the members of Christ Episcopal Church were facing the familiar challenges of many urban faith communities—an aging congregation, a clergy transition, and the lack of a clear sense of mission. In a video case study screened at the Convening, one congregational leader recalls being asked, “What would happen if Christ Church Reading just closed? Would it make a difference? Would anyone care?” These jarring questions were a game-changer for the congregation, which dramatically reoriented itself to engage more with its community and mobilize for the betterment of Reading.
Convening attendees tour Calvary Center.
So are we in the midst of a movement to change the future of sacred places in their communities? It is hard to identify any one component that has shifted and enabled people to imagine change. It might be that the cumulative effect of media attention to the issue, new philanthropic priorities, denominational concerns about real estate, and local communities seeing vacant sacred places have all contributed to a shift in political opportunity. The Convening itself also could be considered the shift! Many participants said that they saw the issue that had been in front of them for years in a new light—a paradigm shift. Like the leader in Reading, we are asking what would happen if countless sacred places at risk disappeared over the next few years. However, this shift in and of itself does not necessarily mobilize people. There are two other stars that need to align.
Social movements need resources—lots of them. Funding, leadership, expertise, networks, access to decision makers from local to national levels, ways to get the message out are all necessary fuel. The challenge is daunting, not only for an individual sacred place but on the national scale. Christ Episcopal Church could not make its building a public asset without additional resources. The congregation found new partners in a regional foundation and local government. At the Convening, the wide array of resources represented in the room was impressive, from funders to government representatives to those with expertise in buildings and leadership development. But again, having an abundance of resources is not enough on its own to mobilize for social change.
Tiffany stained-glass window at Calvary Center.
McAdam identified a fifth critical ingredient: a sense of viability, a belief that change can be made. It is possible to change the narrative from the demise of religious spaces to their preservation and revitalization. Since the Convening, a flurry of conversations has reflected the hope that change is indeed necessary and possible. Moreover, new activities have been generated: researchers are planning or conducting new studies to better understand congregations in transition, their sacred places, and their communities. Theological schools are planning new programs that will better equip faith leaders to navigate community engagement through the assets of their sacred places. Funders are exploring new collaborations for building capacity. The media is covering the stories of sacred places in transition. There is movement on multiple levels just months after the initial excitement.
So are we in a collective movement to change the future of sacred places and their communities? The essential components—a grievance, a moral imperative, a shift in opportunity, resources, and hope—seem to be there. This is not the kind of social movement that involves marches of thousands in the street carrying signs. There won’t be chants, slogans, buttons, or boycotts. But the change being sought will have a profound impact on the quality of life in communities in both urban and rural areas. It is an impact we have not imagined in the past: one in which sacred places will be preserved and activated to be assets for neighbors as well as members.
