Every pastor who has been in ministry for any length of time knows that ministry is messy. Churches are full of broken people making halting progress. Denominations struggle to overcome inertia, to avoid mission drift, to resist cynicism and the pull toward disengagement. But God is at work in the mess.

Every summer, when news comes out from various denominational meetings, you’ll notice a pattern. There’s always a controversial vote. A social media storm. Commentators declare the institution either irredeemably corrupt or finally on the right track, depending on what side they’re on. There’s the noise of newsletters and statements, frequent hand-wringing about the future, especially in light of statistics pointing to decline.

Meanwhile, what makes up the bulk of denominational life continues on, unnoticed and undiscussed. Missionaries board planes to the places God has called them. Church planters continue the setup and teardown in their local school, with dozens on their core team and more than a few who have recently come to faith. Pastors sit with grieving families. Seminary students encounter great texts from church history for the first time, joining a conversation that takes on a denominational shape across generations.

None of these elements makes for a news headline, but they’re all part of the engine of what makes denominational life worthwhile, despite the mess.

Understory

Anne Snyder, editor-in-chief of Comment magazine, has been developing a concept she calls “the understory.” It’s a term she borrows from ecology. The understory is the layer of vegetation that grows beneath the forest canopy. The canopy gets the sun, but the understory does the work. It regulates moisture. It shelters the young growth. It holds the soil in place when the storms hit.

Beneath the understory lies what foresters call the “wood wide web”—an underground network of roots and fungi through which neighboring trees share nutrients, send signals, and hold each other up through drought and storm. Trees that look unconnected above ground are, beneath it, keeping each other strong. Without the understory and the root system beneath it, the forest is just a bunch of tall trees waiting to fall.

Snyder applies this concept to institutional life. What’s needed right now, she argues, is a recognition and a recovery of the small, the hidden, the relational. Churches that stand tall, pastors who are steady and grounded, denominational initiatives that are effective—these efforts are almost always undergirded by the understory and the web of rooted relationships.

Read More