This summer, I attended my sixteenth consecutive General Assembly. I still remember my first one. In 1999, I was an Alternate Minister Commissioner from the Presbytery of Mississippi. That assembly was held in Fort Worth, Texas. It was an awe inspiring experience for a thirty-something year old minister whose church experience including some synod-level work, but had mostly focused on my local congregation and presbytery ministry. The sheer size and scale of a General Assembly meeting in those days was almost overwhelming. They` were a huge undertaking. There were banquet halls, winding corridors of convention center rooms for meetings and gatherings of all sorts. Huge plenary halls often with bleacher-style seating for hundreds of observers, in addition to seating areas for commissioners and delegates, and council leaders.
Our church has evolved a good deal since then. For one thing, we are smaller. In 1999, the PC(USA) had over two and a half million members. Today, we are just a little over a million, and we have been told to be prepared for the possibility that when the next statistical reports are filed, we may drop to under a million. We had over 11,000 congregations in 1999. Today, we’re down to 8,700.
And then in recent years, COVID has changed how General Assemblies happen. In fact, each of the last four General Assemblies has had a different format. The 223rd General Assembly in 2018 was the last one that followed the old format – with committees and plenaries all “in person” in St. Louis. Like its predecessor assemblies, it was a huge “family reunion,” with not only commissioners, delegates, and church leaders present, but – over the course of the week – thousands of visitors. It had a bustling “Exhibit Hall” where attendees could purchase books and resources, crafts from around the world, learn about our church’s programs and ministries, and listen to representatives of various advocacy groups. There was an impressive opening worship service. There was an organized engagement with the local community around social justice issues. It was all there.
In 2020, due to the pandemic, the 224th General Assembly almost didn’t happen at all. In the end, the denomination’s amazing technical staff pulled off an entirely virtual assembly. Since our rules technically didn’t allow such a thing, no constitutional business was allowed on the docket. And of course, despite attempts to create “virtual community,” it all felt very distant and isolated. But then, everything about that year felt distant and isolated.
When 2022 arrived we were beginning to get out and about again, and it was determined that at least smaller groups would be able to gather for the 225th General Assembly, following strict interaction protocol, of course. So the assembly committees came to the Presbyterian Center in Louisville for their meetings in batches – three groups, over the course of about two weeks. Plenaries were then held electronically. But this time, the rules having been duly amended, the plenary gatherings were able to consider constitutional business, which at that point had become fouryears’ worth of constitutional amendments.
This summer, the 226th General Assembly convened its first plenary virtually, to conduct preliminary business, followed by electronic committee meetings. But then, for the first time since 2018, commissioners, delegates, and church leaders descended on Salt Lake City, and gathered together in the Salt Palace Convention Center for worship and work.
There weren’t as many visitors as in years gone by. Even some mid-council leaders decided that it wasn’t the best use of their councils’ resources to attend. There was no Exhibit Hall, and much less of the “networking” that happened in days of old.
The Book of Ezra in the Old Testament tells the story of the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem after the Israelites returned from exile in Babylon. Ezra 3:12 records that “many of the priests and Levites and heads of families, old people who had seen the first house on its foundations, wept with a loud voice when they saw this house, though many shouted aloud for joy” (NRSV). This assembly felt a little like that, at least for me. There was joy – even euphoria – over being back together. But there was also an awareness that it wasn’t like the old days, and due to continued decline and diminishing resources, coupled, of course, with huge improvements in technology, it likely never will be again.
It was an assembly that sought middle ground on most issues. One in which each “side” earnestly tried to hear the other, and find creative ways forward. I am grateful for that. I am grateful for a church that honors matters of conscience even as it seeks to make progress on important social and even global concerns. I am a hopeful person, and I have great hope for our church at every level. I miss the old days. But I look forward to our future together as a family of faith in this time and place – including here in the Synod of living Waters.
Soli Deo gloria
Greg Goodwiller, Executive
Synod of Living Waters, PC(USA)