JAC Online

Sage Wisdom - Noland (USA Western)
by Commissioner Joe Noland

Noland's entry is an excerpt from his book with co-author Dick Hagerty, 
WHAT IF? Dream BIG!

Chapter 10 – Mass Appeal

I’m intrigued by my co-writer's opening sentence in the previous chapter: “A dark cloud is quietly, steadily, relentlessly moving…” It sounds a bit spooky, doesn’t it? Especially when that dark cloud includes me, an old, decrepit, graying octogenarian.

Except maybe it doesn’t include me, since I was forcibly retired from active officership at age sixty-five, some twenty-three years ago. I say "forcibly" because I had no choice in the matter, which contradicts the covenant I signed upon ordination.

While I acknowledge that one can serve Him supremely in retirement, that’s not specified in my covenant. It doesn’t state, “…to love and serve Him supremely, officially until retirement age, and then unofficially thereafter.” No, it reads, “ALL MY DAYS.”

Interestingly, the phrase used to describe the unofficial role is “retirement from active officership.” That’s a bit contradictory, isn’t it? What’s the alternative? Inactive officership? Inactive soul winner? Inactive carer for the poor? Inactive feeder of the hungry? Inactive clothier of the naked? Inactive lover of the unlovable? Inactive befriender of those who have no friends?

What’s your point, Noland? My point is this: What if retirement wasn’t an option? What if ageism wasn’t so prevalent in the 21st century? What if we could close the gap between the “graying of the clergy” and the “idealism of Gen Z”? I asked ChatGPT to define “graying of the clergy,” and this was the response:

“The ‘graying of the clergy’ refers to the growing trend of clergy being older on average, with fewer young people entering the ministry to replace those retiring. This is a concern across many Christian denominations (and even in some non-Christian traditions) since it impacts leadership continuity, vitality, and the ability to connect with younger generations.”

What if we could connect? What if we could combine that idealism with our experience, and as role models, actively emulate a life of service that is contemporary, compelling, and appealing, rather than antiquated, constraining, and uninviting?

What if we could reimagine the role of clergy to focus on mission, innovation, and community engagement instead of institutional maintenance? What if we could make it more appealing to this emerging generation? What if we could dream BIG?

Writing this has brought back a memory from the 1980s…  I was the General Secretary (second-in-command) of the Southern California (SoCal) Division of The Salvation Army. It was my responsibility, under the direction of the Divisional Commander, to plan and execute our biannual Officer’s Councils (Clergy Conference).

We always chose a venue that allowed us to mix business with pleasure. That year, we convened at the Disneyland Hotel, where a nearby performing arts theater was featuring the iconic play, “Mass Appeal.” With the Divisional Commander’s blessing, we booked an evening performance as part of our itinerary. The show's message perfectly captures the essence of closing that gap and addresses all the "What if?" questions posed above.

What a serendipitous evening it turned out to be! The lively discussions it generated fit perfectly with our council’s theme and corresponding Scripture passage:

“I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some” - 1 Corinthians 9:22.

The plot centers on a conflict between truth and compromise within the Catholic Church, told through the relationship between an aging, complacent priest and his idealistic, rebellious seminary student.  The play was later made into a movie, starring Jack Lemmon as a slick, gifted Catholic priest responsible for a large parish. Into his comfortable world comes a young, gifted, turbulent seminarian on assignment. The two immediately clash, yet they need each other. At one point, Jack Lemmon exclaims, “You must be crazy! And the church needs crazies. You’re one of those precious mavericks that comes along every so often and keeps the church alive.”

What if we added a phrase to the Officer (Clergy) Covenant to read:

“…befriend those who have no friends and champion those young, precious cadet (seminary) mavericks.”

Our seminaries and Schools for Officer Training (SFOTs) would be filled to overflowing, attracting the masses—Mass Appeal!

And even this old, decrepit, graying octogenarian would be willing to sign up all over again.

"There is no man that hath power over the spirit to retain the spirit; neither hath he power in the day of death: and there is no discharge in that war; neither shall wickedness deliver those that are given to it." - Ecclesiastes 8:8

The overall solution? What if there was a cultural shift in how ministry is valued, supported, and envisioned—not merely focused on filling pulpits, but on nurturing sustainable and diverse leadership that is future-oriented, regardless of age?

BREAKING NEWS!

“Three octogenarian nuns have defied their diocese, run away from their nursing home and returned to their former convent in Salzburg, Austria, which they are now occupying.”

“On September 4, Sister Regina, 86, Sister Rita, 81, and Sister Bernadette, 88, returned to Schloss Goldenstein, the Alpine convent and girls’ school where they had spent most of their lives — much to the displeasure of the local church.”

“The long-running dispute between the nuns and their superior, Provost Markus Grasl, dates back to the end of 2023 when the nuns say they were removed from the monastery against their will.”

“The sisters’ former students have been helping and organizing a daily routine for them, while a family doctor is available to offer medical care.”

“Since returning to the convent, the nuns have become active on Instagram, amassing more than 10,000 followers in little over a week. On their account, they document their daily routine of praying, eating and attending mass together as well as their now-frequent interviews with journalists from all around the world.”

Talk about messy, risk taking, and dreaming big. My new-found heroes. And yes, I’ve connected with them on Instagram. Now, that’s what I call…

Chapter 20 – Protect The Mission

Let me take “searching for solutions” in a slightly different “What if?” direction. In doing so, I find myself talking to myself more during these retiring years—perhaps a symptom of aging. One playful question I often ponder is:

“Noland, what if you had been born forty years later?”

That would make me a youthful forty-eight today. I not only ask the questions, but also answer them:

“Dreaming big, I would lust after one appointment in particular.” (Yes, lust is the appropriate word).

“To command… No, wait! To be the CO (coordinating/facilitating officer) of the Honolulu, Hawaii Kroc Center.”

That’s the positive side of the conversation; now comes the negative.

“Are you sure about that, Commissioner?” (Yes, I address myself with this title. I earned it, and it makes me feel important).

“Consider this: as a young, maverick officer, you didn’t face the myriad legal constraints that exist today. Back then, the legal department consisted of just one officer and their administrative assistant. Now, it’s a whole gaggle of attorneys, including HR, whose primary goal is to keep the ‘risk’ out of mission or as they so cleverly phrase it, to 'Protect the Mission.'”

My thoughts then begin to wander back to that risk-filled era, and I wonder...

What if I could operate a Kroc Center without today's all-consuming legal constraints? What if I could run a bus ministry to reach children and families lacking access to our programs? What if I could pack those kids into buses and vans (60 kids in a 40-passenger bus, 15 in a 10-passenger van), just like I once did, to get them all to church in a timely manner?

Sunday School attendance in the thousands would be a given, right? Junior Soldier enrollments would break historical records, wouldn’t they? Ancillary youth outreach programs would be pushing the boundaries, huh?

But alas! That’s not possible today. The lawyers have taken over, stifling creativity and innovation. “Play it safe” has become our standard operating procedure, negatively impacting the growth of Sunday School and other outreach programs, as churches and faith-based organizations must navigate a complex web of laws while trying to engage children and families.

Think about it. Had Wiilliam and Catherine Booth attempted to birth The Salvation Army under these constraints, they would have failed miserably.

In one territory, the “Protecting the Mission” Policies and Procedures document is 23 pages long and requires multiple signatures. That’s enough to scare the bejesus out of anyone, isn’t it? Yes, I said “bejesus,” a colloquial expression of Anglo-Irish origin, used to convey extreme fright while avoiding invoking Jesus' name as an oath.

In my musings, two frightening memories often surface. The first is of the old, rickety bus that DHQ loaned us for Sunday school pickups in Flagstaff, Arizona. Due to the number of children on any given Sunday, we had to limit it to two rounds of pickups, each involving about sixty kids.

The bus had a seating capacity of only forty. What to do? Dreaming big, we physically removed the seats to make room for all sixty, seating them on the floor. It worked without nary a mishap over that sixteen-month period.

Today, lawyers would have a conniption fit, and after a warning or two, I’d receive that obligatory pink slip, banishing me to the netherworld. Perhaps that’s a bit dramatic, but ultimately, the corps and the Kingdom thrived!

Taking risks for the right reasons is essential to the success cycle, even if it sometimes seems excessive in hindsight. Risk-taking is inherently risky; you won’t always get it right. However, in today’s legalistic culture, we would eliminate risk altogether. When we do, the results speak for themselves.

Look around. Do you see any Sunday Schools with an average of 300 weekly attendees? At that Kroc Center, we could easily attract 1,000 or more. That is, if we were operating like we did forty years ago, rather than "Protecting the Mission” from growth and expansion. Please don’t tell anyone I said this but a more accurate title might be “Preventing the Mission.”

The second scary memory leads us to our next appointment in Phoenix, now a Kroc Center. Here’s how I describe it in my book, The Leadership Dilemma:

True story: For our groundbreaking ceremony, we wanted to take a page out of that early day playbook where enormous risks were taken to attract attention to the Gospel. That’s exactly what the Broadway Youth and Family Center was all about, a 20th century model of that early day strategy.

The Territorial Commander would be there, along with local dignitaries, the governor and mayor included. How to attract the largest crowd possible to this open-air event? I’m not sure where the idea came from, but I envisioned an airplane flying over and dropping ping pong balls, those colored yellow, red, and blue receiving a special prize, with those lucky enough to nab the fire of the Holy Spirit (yellow), a more substantial one. We saturated the community with flyers advertising it.

It was very risky for several reasons: (1) The timing of the drop had to be perfect taking into consideration the wind direction. (2) There was no way of knowing how the crowd would react (trample one another to get to the balls?). Thinking about these things in the middle of the night, I almost canceled the drop several times.

The attract attention ploy worked big time with a very large crowd gathering at the designated hour. I instructed the pilot to drop a test ball out in advance to see where the wind would carry it. I waited and prayed.

The crowd was instructed. The airplane approached, everyone waiting in anticipation. My heart was racing, body tensed, nerves on edge. The ping pong balls were released. It was like in slow motion, as they drifted across the road into the neighbor’s yards. I watched in horror, as the mob ran across the road, jumping over fences, trampling flower beds, bushes, and everything else in their path to retrieve those balls. I looked for the closest hole to crawl into.

Can you imagine that happening today? Approval requested, please…

And what if I refuse to seek approval and decide to go ahead anyway?  

Believe it or not, there is a happy ending to this story. Most of that crowd became members of the center, many choosing The Salvation Army as their church home, which statistically made the divisional and territorial coordinator look good.

Hmm. What if we were to dream big and put the risk back into mission?