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.”
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| Delegates at the CRC Synod, 2016 |
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.
