My church has recently started a series of conversations about how we might partner with other Lutheran churches in our area and, dare I say it, maybe even end up as one church? I hope that it is where It is going anyways.

I am not in a privileged enough position to be in on the conversations. But, I fear I know what many of the arguments against amalgamation will be – our building, our history, is this or that church “taking over” … and I suspect that really at the heart of many of these concerns is pillar members wanting to have their funeral atthe church they have lived their entire lives, wanting support from their pastor at this stage of life and their community. All of which are valid desires and fears. And we certainly need to make sure the end of life care which is a huge part of our ministry continues.

But, my fears and desires are very different. I am looking to 10 years from now: when there are not enough bodies to make up a church council or money to fix the roof, when we HAVE to close our church, when my family and the one other young family are left without a place to go. Where my community abandons my family.

I do think we have another option, and I think it is an only option. If we join together there could actually be a Sunday school, a home team for youth events, a confirmation class, refugee sponsorship, strong support for larger church programs from a vital congregational base. I could look forward to being a part of a church that will do my funeral, and marry my children and baptize my grandchildren.

For me amalgamation is not letting our church die, it is letting it live.

On of my favourite traditions is the making of a quilt for people’s weddings. Every time a cousin gets married the aunts and cousins get together, piece a quilt, proceed to quilt it by hand. Yes – it takes FOREVER, over a year. And yes tensions run a little high as the wedding draws nigh. But, I love the tradition. It is one of the few places in life where I feel real intergenerational community. Something that I imagine our church community used to be a bit more like.

You see, present at the quilting are cousins of all ages. Enough to take care of my rug rat while I quilt. Uncles, who for some traditional reason don’t participate, pass in and out and make tea. And this tradition, for me, is grounded in our church community’s history.

My grandma found much fun and fellowship in her quilting group at church. And I know the ladies at my church faithfully continue to quilt. These quilts get sent to CLWR or raffled off. It is based in our church and farming history.

It also reminds me that there is a church history which is beyond my experience. When my grandmother quilted, she was with her peers. There would have been many people with small children when she had small children. And this is what I miss. I want my church to me like this. It doesn’t look like my church community will be like this anytime soon. But I do feel that I can live the ‘goodness’ of this tradition with my aunts and cousins.