Orlando and the Christian Reformed Synod

         While perusing Facebook today I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of both love and hatred that attended the massacre of forty-nine gay people in Orlando. We all feel like President Obama, I suppose. We feel like we’ve seen this sort of tragedy too many times. We fear that powerful forces beyond our control, from Congress to mental illness to guns to xenophobia conspire together to make change impossible. 

        

         But that’s not all I saw on Facebook, though I’m going to get back to what happened in Orlando. I also noted that yesterday, a sermon at the beginning of the Christian Reformed Church’s (CRC) annual synod was titled, “Maintain the Bond of Peace.”

Delegates at the CRC Synod, 2016

        The text was Ephesians 4:15, but it could just have easily John 17:23, where Jesus prays, “May they brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me.”

         Of course, Jesus’ prayer to God was not answered in the affirmative. Through the ages, the church has not maintained anything like the bond of peace. When not persecuting minorities or heretics, the church has been torn apart by schism—often violent ones. The reality of Christendom, today, say most experts, is division into tens of thousands of denominations. Fortunately, (or not), early theologians came up with a notional fix for this problem, the “one holy catholic church,” that is, an “invisible” church of true believers divided among the world’s true and false denominations. Are you in or out?

         The preacher at synod said, “As our part of the church faces storms of the present day, God’s Spirit animates and guides us as we speak the truth to each other in love with the power of the Spirit and the bond of peace.” With such an anchor, he added, “How can we possibly go wrong?”

         Well, a lot actually. If the church’s track record on the bond of peace doesn’t worry you, then the reality of this year’s synod agenda should. What’s that?

         Gays. What do we do about those gays?

         Of course, the CRC doesn’t put it that plainly—denominations, like most institutions, are not known for plain speak. The report is actually titled, “Committee to Provide Pastoral Guidance re Same Sex Marriage.” This report is supposed to explain how Christians can be pastorally sensitive to gay people while nevertheless insisting that gay relationships are sinful--evil. It doesn’t make any practical sense, of course. It is sort of like asking someone with a pair of lungs not to breathe, or someone who is healthy to break a leg.

         Many people in the Christian Reformed Church, including many pastors and leaders, know this. After I wrote a book—while a CRC pastor—that argued it was past time for the CRC to open its doors to gays, I heard from many, many such leaders who agreed. At the same time many wrote to say they dared not make their convictions public. People—their people, their tribe, not gays—wouldn’t understand.

         On the other hand, many people don’t agree with changing the church’s stance. And given the raw emotion (rather than enlightened exegesis or just plain common sense) that attends this issue, it will be hard for the CRC to maintain that bond of unity no matter what it decides, exactly.

         In fact, is it even possible? I don't think so, ultimately. Especially since the peace the CRC wants to keep is denominational peace.

        In spite of all the energy put into founding denominations (usually through schism) and keeping denominations true and pure, they have no real Biblical warrant. When the Bible was written there were churches in different geographical areas, like Rome or Jerusalem. There were churches that met in different homes and there were churches founded by different apostles. But, perhaps naively, perhaps because of the positive outcome of the first Synod of Jerusalem, there is an underlying sense in scripture that there is only one church.

         I don’t know for sure how long this lasted. We know from many sources that there were what we now consider heretical sects early on. Several heresies are identified in scripture, and each surely had its own party within congregations, and throughout the empire.

         In scripture, there are basically only two kinds of churches—the one church that Jesus prayed (unsuccessfully, it would seem) would remain one; and individual congregations.

         After having moved from one denomination to another, and after having served (briefly) on an ecumenical committee of the CRC, and after having worked at an ecumenical seminary and been president of a Christian Graduate School at the ecumenical Toronto School of Theology, my observation about denominations is that they may be more trouble than they’re worth.

         Have you been part of a denomination where people in the pew are asking regularly what’s going on at headquarters? Have you been part of a denomination where excitement for the shared mission means donations are going up? Have you ever belonged to a denomination where its doctrinal confessions have lived in most people’s hearts, just needing to find expression on their lips (rather than in a catechism book rarely opened and poorly understood)? Have you been part of a denomination that isn’t tearing itself apart or trying to lasso and throw out some undesirable minority?

         Many denominations hold their doctrines not so much out of conviction anymore, but rather, out of a sense that tribal unity is paramount. There is safety in numbers, in shared customs, in family interactions and connections. Ethical stances, more visceral than intellectual, tend to become the actual rallying points for experiencing tribal unity over time and space.

         And right now, it's the gays on the receiving end.

         I’m not sure what the answer is. In my heart, I guess I’m a Congregationalist. In the United Church I should be in good company on the score, since the Congregationalists were one of the founding branches of my current denomination.

         But that also merely kicks the problem down one step of the ladder. My intuition, though, is that these sorts of issues are better handled on the local level.

         Perhaps a better answer is losing our sense of tribal belonging so that we as individuals feel freer to join a local congregation that matches our hopes, dreams, and convictions. But then you’d expect someone with a history of changing denominations to say such a thing!

         In the meantime, the Synod of the CRC—and any other synods meeting this summer—will meet under the pall of 49 murders of gay people in Orlando. And I think the CRC is going to have a very hard time figuring this one out. 

         Because ultimately, one cannot be pastorally sensitive to gay people in Orlando or anywhere when what you really want to say is that what they do is evil.

What Denominations Are Good For

Years ago, I heard Roman Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft speak. He was born Christian Reformed but changed his mind in grad school. During his talk he explained one thing he thought denominations were good for. As best as I can remember it, he said something like this:

“All God ever wanted was one Holy Catholic Church. But humans had their own ideas, and eventually they divided the church into hundreds of different denominations.

“God, being gracious, decided to make the best of it. And so God conceived of every denomination as a treasure chest, and gave to each a spiritual perspective to hold safe and sound against some future crisis, when the Church Universal would need to relearn just that perspective to carry on.”

Kreeft’s defense of denominationalism is heart-warming, even though one can think of other ways of preserving differing perspectives. Books come to mind, for example! But his vignette raises a larger question. What are denominations good for, really?

A few months ago I wrote a post entitled, “The Trouble with Denominations.” You can find it here: http://tinyurl.com/pv284xx That post generated quite a bit of response, both on the web page and back channel. In the meantime, fairness suggests that I should also write a post on the benefits of denominations. What are they?

The question is especially interesting in view of the fact that many congregations, large and small, liberal and conservative, do not belong to denominations. Independent, nonconformist, and dissenter churches have a long and colorful history of success. So why denominations?

To answer that question, I’ve come up with a list of ten things that denominations can potentially do well—along with a brief cautionary note in most cases. It adds up to a sort of “on the one hand . . . but on the other” commentary.

1.     Denominations are communities of memory. This echoes what Kreeft said. A denomination’s central convictions, borne of some ancient insight or conflict, as well as its stories and heroes from the past all work together to shape a shared outlook and sense of purpose among people in the pew today. On the other hand, many of those cherished memories go back to schismatic battles about points of doctrine now considered mostly beside the point. A lot of toil and trouble, and sometimes blood has been spilled to make our memories and fill our doctrinal treasure chests.

2.     Denominations promote a sense of belonging to something larger and more ancient than most local churches. In a way, denominations, regardless of their ethnic makeup, have a tribal quality that promotes belonging and shared purpose. However, tribe members don’t usually think critically about their mores, convictions, and culture. Tribes are very oriented to the cultural status quo and tribe members are prone to submitting to peer pressure. To top it off, tribes tend to  be unfriendly to, or at least suspicious of, nonmembers.

3.     Denominations can collect resources from all their local churches and strategically use those resources to achieve goals that churches acting alone might not be able to achieve. What sort of goals? New church planting where there is a high potential for success. Support for initiatives undertaken by leaders or churches that have a proven track record. Unfortunately, denominations have too often used their resources to support barely viable churches that are on the wrong side of plateauing membership, or to support central bureaucracies doing all sorts of things that independent churches have shown you can do without. Examples might include holding denominational meetings, supporting international (rather than local) ecumenism, or going through yet another round of denominational restructuring.

4.     Denominations can also used shared resources to support a national seminary that celebrates and builds up the community of memory it is rooted in. On the other hand, as I noted in the essay I provided a link to, above, most seminaries seem more interested in arguing and promoting their distinctive traditions than helping churches engage the difficult realities they face on the ground. And besides, there are plenty of seminaries around North America that do as good a job as the one your local denomination supports.

5.     Denominations can support clergy by offering educational and networking opportunities. They can use their intellectual and financial resources to pull people doing church on the ground together to think and talk about what they face. Too often, however, denominations offer little more than a list of seminars that ministers have to take in order to keep their credentials in order.

6.     Denominations, at their best, promote mutual accountability among local congregations and leaders for doing every kind of good. That is, denominations can provide a forum for, and inspire congregations to share best practices, best rules and regulations, and best understanding of the culture congregations and pastors find themselves in. Okay, so this is a lot like number five, and doesn’t happen much anyway.

7.     In the same vein, denominations almost always have a set of rules that govern how local churches should interact with members, pastors, other churches, and national bodies in a way that promotes the mission of the church, justice and good order. These rules cover matters as diverse as financial transparency, ownership of assets, and mediating disputes. In the United Church this set of rules is called The Manual. In my previous denomination, it was called, The Church Order. Boring as such documents are, they offer denominational members and employees rules for the road that help manage everything from hiring and firing to finances and rules for making congregational decisions. These documents also explain how denominations can hold congregations and members to certain civil or spiritual standards. Unfortunately, such manuals are often far too prescriptive about far too many matters at a time when the culture and laws are changing fast.

8.     Denominations can educate and speak on behalf of members on important, often national and international, matters of social justice. Denominations do so by electing inspired leaders, by supporting independent religious journalism, and by having mechanisms for addressing government. On the other hand, when denominations educate or speak on behalf of members, they often set of a firestorm of protest from members who disagree with such statements. Not that intense discussion about such matters is undesirable!

9.     Denominations can help local congregations navigate the increasingly complex legal environment of our litigious society. How do you do arrange for police checks? Who needs them? What level? What about best practices for health and safety rules in the building? What about workplace violence? Peanuts? Equal opportunity employment? Building access? And so on. On the other hand, most of this information can be found on the Internet, too.

10.  Denominations can enforce individual and congregational adherence to core doctrines or mores through church discipline. But of course, that leads to schisms, fights, and less than stellar PR. Providentially, this doesn’t seem to be a huge problem in my new denomination, which is committed to being a big-tent church.

The bottom line? Because there is staying power in numbers, and because they pool memories and resources, denominations have helped Christianity remain a force in North America. But most denominations soon lose focus on the central convictions that led to their formation, and change their focus from mission to institution building and maintenance. And this, in turn, tends to alienate people in the pews, as well as clergy not well integrated into the power structures. I’d love to see the United Church in Canada, in particular, give serious consideration to: 1) pruning its central bureaucracy by giving it less sway over local congregations, and, 2) by adopting the Fishing on the Other Side report, which recommends doing away with Presbytries and Conferences, while offering some alternative structures, especially for the care and supervision of pastors. Check it out at: http://tinyurl.com/p5u9vdy

The Problem Is in the Pulpit

I’ve been thinking a lot about denominations lately. I’m a switcher, a pastor who has moved from leadership in an Evangelical church to a Mainline church. One of the first things I noticed in making the switch was that while the local theology in the last two congregations I served is very different, the denominational woes are exactly the same. Both denominations are struggling with significant decreases in giving and widespread boredom with and distrust of large institutions. Both denominations are losing members—albeit they are at different points in the process. Both denominations are promising more help for local congregations, but are basically not delivering, as their agencies just can’t get out of the PR and fundraising modes. Both denominations are spending lots of internal time and resources on major institutional restructuring. Both denominations are seeing an exodus of young members.

In the Christian Reformed Church I used to belong to, they are wondering whether or not “denominational culture,” is a key factor behind the malaise. Maybe. In the United Church, the new structural plan, which would save the National Office, but do away with Presbyteries (local groups of churches) and conferences (larger groups of local churches), seems to suggest that the problem is that local members don’t care about neighbouring churches. That might be right, but it is hard to understand, then, why those same members would care about the national church.

In the end, however, I doubt very much that membership malaise and decline have much to do with denominational culture or structure. Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to have top-notch culture and structure. The thing is, as helpful as these realities are in a healthy church, they are not the root causes of membership loss and malaise.

What is?

Well, the bottom line, I think, is that the problem is with local churches and leadership. The heart of the worship service (or, at least, one of its key foci), the sermon, is not giving people a reason to stay. And naturally, if that is the case, giving and attendance drops and interest in far away national offices or agencies isn’t going to light any fires either.

I don’t want to be too hard on preachers. But honestly, if there is one complaint I hear over and over again from my friends who are thinking of not going to church, or who have stopped—and I have many of them—it is that they are mad about the preaching. It is too judgmental. It is too pragmatic, as if the sermons were lifted out of the self-help section of the bookstore. It is, especially, boring and irrelevant. It doesn’t get people to strap on their seat belts or put on crash helmets.

Now, we might respond to such a charge defensively. I have responded that way myself, when people have stopped going to my church. Or, we might say that the problem is not with the preacher—but with the gospel. People just don’t buy it anymore, and the siren songs of the weekend away, or the materialistic lifestyle, or Twitter and Facebook are just too compelling to invest in sermons anymore. We can come up with a hundred and one reasons to deflect the blame away from preachers. And the hard truth here is that the problem is complex, and there are some very good preachers who still struggle with the malaise out there, and we can all think of people who left church for different reasons—lack of community, perhaps; or the widespread perception that churches are anti-gay, or anti-women, or anti-science. And many are.

However, I believe that our preaching is a big part of the problem. As pastors, we don’t work at it hard enough. We don’t pay enough attention to how we speak, to the rhetoric of persuasion, or the poetry of words. We don’t pay enough attention to what our parishioners are really wondering about in the dark of the night or when the bills come due. We are too comfortable with the status quo. We offer one meal after another of beans and rice and no one can remember what we said two weeks on. We preach out of dry barrels of sixteenth century doctrinal concerns like infant baptism or how the atonement works rather than to the crises of our era. I do it too. And this is what I lie awake thinking about at night. This is what forces me to spend more and more time preparing messages rather than less and less.

It may be that we are entering into an era where things are so good, for so many, that the gospel seems quaint and old fashioned. We may well enter an era where one of the crises of our day—global warming, poverty, religious fanaticism, racism, terrorism—so overwhelms us that people come back to church in droves, looking for the faith, hope and love to get them through. But for now, people are hanging up their church hats and leaving in droves. And not missing church at all. Especially not the sermons. And if nothing else, that should suggest that our preaching the same old stuff isn’t doing the trick.

We need to talk about this. What’s the problem? Denial? Are our preacher egos too sensitive to get honest about how we’re doing? Does the preaching ministry fail to attract the brightest and the best, like it did 100 years ago? Too much Greek (or too little?) Too much seminary (or too little?) Too much distraction from social media and the internet to concentrate on real writing?

Maybe all the above. But until our local churches are firing on all cylinders, especially from the pulpit, the whole debate about what to do with denominational structures is very much beside the point.