Today, Wednesday, the archdiocese of New Orleans will make an announcement guaranteed to frustrate and even anger a lot of Catholics: which churches (they call them parishes) will be boarded up and shut down. Everyone is on edge, worrying that their beloved parish might be among the doomed.

Yesterday, pickets were out in force parading in front of favorite and vulnerable church buildings. Some people came to pray. This morning at 9:30 am Archbishop Alfred Hughes has summoned 300 active and retired priests to a meeting at Notre Dame Seminary where they will learn the full details of his decision. A news conference will follow.

Few know what will happen. Everyone fears the worst. Some say they are determined to fight for their church. Letter-writing campaigns are already in the works.

Several culprits have brought this about, sources say: the high cost of rebuilding all the hurricane-damaged churches, the weakened population figures for St. Bernard and Orleans parishes, the decreased income from these areas, and the departure of a lot of priests for other cities. This last, the loss of clergy, is called “a slower-moving disaster.”

Interestingly, it’s not only the churches afflicted by smaller numbers of parishioners and weakened income that will be closed, we are told. Some of the affluent churches in the population centers will be combined with other strong churches. As I say, no one but the archbishop knows and everyone waits.

Tuesday, I received a note from a cousin in Virginia. She grew up Methodist and now belongs to an Episcopal church which she loves dearly. However, the pastor has announced that since their tiny congregation has failed to grow during his five years there and since the income from their mother church in the city is ending due to its own financial pressures, he’s thinking of leaving. Mary Beth worries about their little church. She said, “I know personally every person who comes to our church.”

“We’ve tried everything,” she said, mentioning visitation, calling, publicity. “Nothing seems to work.”

As though answering the question in my mind, she said, “I don’t want to leave. I love this little church.”

I responded something like this.

“I appreciate your loyalty to the church and to your pastor. But sometimes it’s better for a church to close down and for everyone to go join a stronger church in the area.”

There is an optimal size of a church, it would seem to me, although I don’t presume to know what it is. A congregation can get so large that it hovers over the landscape like a Hindenburg, and is just about as unmaneuverable. On the other hand, small churches that fail to thrive often are spending all their resources on building maintenance, insurance, and payroll.

The question that needs to be asked, I suggest, is simply, what would be lost if we closed the doors of this church and the members joined a church nearby?

If the answer is given in terms of building-affection and tradition-loyalty, then the church may be safely closed with a minimum of fallout.

If, however, that church has a significant ministry, even a tiny one, one that is irreplacable and from which the community would suffer if it were to shut its doors, then it may be worth the effort to keep the doors open and the ministry viable.

Take Vieux Carre’ Baptist Church in New Orleans’ French Quarter where Greg and Wren Hand serve. The building is 150 years old or more and the church itself is over 40. Located on Dauphine Street one block north of Bourbon, the little facility is ideally situated to have an impact on the residents and visitors of that area. However, the one thing it is not and has never been is self-sustaining. Presently, the congregation of perhaps 50 souls at a Sunday morning worship service is composed of a few residents, some homeless, some outsiders who believe in the work and drive in, a few people from our seminary, perhaps a few tourists from nearby hotels who walked over for the services, and whatever out-of-town church group is staying in the church at the moment.

So, where does the income to run this church come from? Greg and Wren have longtime friends and supporters in other states, Alabama and Florida mainly I believe, who support them financially. The church teams that stay in Vieux Carre’s buildings–they are well set up to accommodate teams of volunteers who want to witness and minister in the Quarter–pay a few dollars per night per person. The Louisiana Baptist Convention has provided funds to renovate their buildings and upgrade their furnishings. And then, the offerings on Sunday bring in a small amount.

Should we keep Vieux Carre’ Baptist Church open? Absolutely. No one else is doing what they are doing. If we were to lose that facility and the present leadership, the Lord’s work in that needy area of our city would suffer greatly.

It’s not just about numbers, either of worshipers or visible results or what’s in the offering plate. It’s about a church making the most of its opportunity to serve Christ by impacting its neighborhood.

When a church does it right, no matter the number of worshipers they attract on Sunday morning, it’s worth the support–financial and otherwise–of an archdiocese, a state convention, and the prayers of God’s people.

The scripture that comes to mind is this word from Paul to the Galatians: “Be not weary in well doing. In due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” (Gal. 6:9)