the Outlook Blog

Beaver-Butler is sending an overture to GA to allow "theological, non-geographic" Presbyteries, in order to promote a greater flexibility in government and to stem the tide of congregations leaving the denomination.

In January of this year, the Presbytery of the Pacific defeated a similar motion.

I've thought long and hard about this, and I said to the proponents, "I'd be willing to vote favorably on this if you were willing to send an overture to GA for the removal of G6.106b, thus allowing both groups to proceed with their agendas. 

If we are to be a church truly flexible, then let's go for it.

But my friend said, "Oh no, the evangelicals would never go for the removal of G6.106b."

In other words, putting it crassly, they want their cake, but won't let me have mine. 

As I thought about this, it occurred to me that allowing for non-geographical Presbyteries could well allow for the formation of a half-dozen new Presbyteries, each able to send overtures to GA, vote on overtures sent down, and POSSESS THE POWER TO DISMISS CONGREGATIONS!

Am I being cynical?

Perhaps, but I've learned to be cautious - for years now, I have felt that leaving the denomination is a high priority, and similar in priority is crafting devices to keep their property.

A non-geographical presbytery, once formed, could hold but one meeting and then dismiss, carte blanche, all of its churches to the EPC, or whatever status they so desire. 

I believe the assertion of theological interests is less than honest here. It's not about theology, but about practice, and for the majority of evangelicals in our ranks, it's about denying ordination to GLBT persons.

Even as I seek a change in our constitution to grant ordination to whomever gives evidence of a calling and can pass the tests leading to ordination.

We've all done our theological work; now, it's a question of practice.

Everything is up for grabs at the start of the 10th year of the 21st Century.

Not unlike the years surrounding Calvin's tumultuous and creative life. At any point in time, it was impossible to predict how the next ten years would unfold in Geneva. Yet Calvin wrote prodigiously and hopefully, anchored in God's sovereignty and with a passion for the person in the pew, so to speak.

As I begin the year and look back over my 40 years of ordained ministry, I turn to the future of mainline denominations with hope for our emergence from a "dark" period of time. Or was it so dark?

One man's darkness may be another man's light.

The last 40 years have seen us RECOVER from the supreme success we enjoyed after WW2 and during much of the 20th Century; we built our megachurches all across the landscape in American cities - talk about 24/7, with incredible programs, jammed worship services, gymnasiums and full-service ministries. Our pulpits were manned by princes, our seminaries were guided by theologians of immense ability, missions were expanding and especially after WW2, thousands of new congregations sprung up in the growing American suburbs, many of which became the second generation megachurch.

Yet in the midst of this, there remained small town and rural churches, places of energy and pastoral strength, but with huge shifts in American population, the disappearance of many of them was inevitable.

Our first generation of megachurches in the cities have clearly suffered huge transitions, and many of them are long gone, tough there are plenty of remarkable exceptions - e.g. Fourth Church in Chicago. And in our older suburbs, where so much of the post WW2 growth occurred, changing cultural patterns and the aging of the inner-ring suburbs have shrunk many of our second-generation megachurches, and many have closed their doors.

During this period of time, new forms of worship and music emerged, inaugurating what came to be known as the worship wars, and bloody they were, but out of the noise and smoke emerged a third generation of megachurches, beginning with Schuller's Chrystral Cathedral, a hybrid of sorts, of mainline and independent trajectories. Then came Willow Creek and Saddleback, and the rest of is history. All across America, the emergence of flagship megachurches - stripped down buildings, 24/7 small groups, high-tech worship, preaching that was both biblical and pastoral. Yet thousands of smaller congregations continued their work, though overshadowed by the media exposure of the large churches.

And there emerged, during this period of time, a truism: Conservative churches are growing and liberal churches are shrinking.

The problem with a truism is that it’s always a half-truth; it surely reflects a pattern, but some took that pattern as if it were the absolute and final blessing of God, and they became legends in their own time, if not their own minds. And the growth and creativity in other settings was ignored, if not ridiculed.

What with America's fascination with "leadership" and growth, folks forgot that church growth is largely the result of two factors: God's grace and location.

Stats in the last few years are beginning to reveal cracks in the truism; conservative churches are experiencing what the mainliners experienced 50 years as the tides turned. Their ranks are rife with debate, if not full-out rancor, with plenty of heresy trials underway, moral failures (nothing new there, but a reminder that everyone puts their pants on one leg at a time, even the superstars of the megachurch stages - pulpits, of course, no longer used), and slight declines in attendance – is this small change preface to the larger changes that occur inevitably in the shifting sands of time?

The megachurch and its success has stilted its creativity. Look at a 25-year old video and one shot last Sunday, and there is no difference: the clergy wear jeans and shirts pulled out, use high-tech tools, and preach pretty much the same message, and for many these days, the message has become a pop-psychology mix of personal triumphalism infused with Old Testament stories and a lot of Pauline materials.

The vaunted success of the "conservative" church is no longer a sure bet, and the churches that hung their heads in shame over their lack of or negligible growth are beginning to emerge from the shadows only to discover their worth, and that God is in their ranks as well, doing mighty things.

It's too early to tell, but the truism that propped up the pride of some (yes, it was pride, wasn't it?) and caused thousands of good pastors and fine congregations to hang their heads in shame and exhaustingly chase after every new program that came down the pike from the publishing houses or was touted at the megachurch teaching seminars, is clearly shifting. And sadly, thousands of congregants bought the truism and blamed their pastors, their denominations, their seminaries when the "thousands didn't show up,” even as the truism pitted enthusiastic pastors against their congregants, charging them with lack of vision and willingness.

But new images and ideas are emerging! The culture wars are subsiding. Mainline congregations, battered and bruised, are recovering, and books like "Christianity for the Rest of Us" by Diana Butler Bass are a part of the reconstitution of the mainline church.

Things are a-changin' ... God does that; lest we build our towers to the heavens, God comes down and confuses our language, spreading us out to the world.

All of us are learning, and perhaps we're learning how to bless one another, help one another. Megachurches are grappling with Barna-type studies that reveal embarrassing failures in their efforts to make disciples and nurture their own children into the faith.

Mainliners are catching their breath and regaining their confidence.

Sure, the church as I knew it when I was ordained at the First Presbyterian Church in Holland, Michigan, is long gone, but new energy is emerging all over the place, and we will find new ways of being Presbyterian, connectional and missional. Leaner, for sure; but not meaner. Humbler and contrite, as we discover God's grace anew.

I think the next ten years will be very good for the mainline churches, and the megachurches, too - as we learn how to humbly love one another and appreciate our respective visions and ministries.

After all, we’re all in this together … for the glory of God!

 

It's been awhile since I've dropped a line or two here at the Outlook blog site.

I'm sure some are delighted at my vacation since I'm pretty upbeat about the current state-of-affairs in the Presbyterian Church.

God's relentless love is moving us along in a deep and swift current taking us far beyond all the usual categories in which we formerly found comfort and too often took unwarranted pride.

Yes, we had the world by the tail, so to speak, but times change, and the world in which we now live is vastly different. But I'm hopeful, and more than hopeful, because I know Presbyterians - surely, not all of them; just a few actually over my 39 years of ministry, starting in West Virginia in the former West Virginia Mountain Project created by missionaries who rode into the area on mules.

I have known laity and clergy, pastors and executives, and I have witnessed a steady effort to be faithful to the large images of Scripture and the Great Commandment and the Great Commission. Have we always done it right? It's hard to say. Numbers and dollars, while so tantalizing to our eyes, is of no account to God. Sin itself abounds, but so does grace, allthemore. 

In the last 40 years, demographics and culture have changed radically, and we, and other mainline groups, nosedived on membership, and the more independent and self-confessed evangelicals grew.

Looking back over the carnage, I chuckle a bit, because their "growth" was constantly rubbed in our face, and we hung our heads in shame or anger. 

For the growing churches, it became a matter of pride - their techniques and innovations, their technology and their theology, were clearly "right" and we were clearly "wrong."

But pride goeth before the fall. 

And now the stats are coming in: the evangelical world is losing membership, they struggle with issues of second and third generation leadership vacuums, heresy trials abound as evangelicals try to define who they are and what they believe. Compelled by the Great Commission, thy sent thousands of their young to the mission field who come back home with a new sense of the Great Commandment and a passionate regard for justice, often at odds now with Mom and Dad.

I recently attended a luncheon at a large evangelical Presbyterian Church to hear a speaker from Internation Justice Mission.

I was shocked at what I heard, because I heard the language and thelogy and passion of justice. There was no bashing of the mainline, but only a sharp review of how the evangelical movment in this nation overlooked justice.

In my own words, the evangelical movement, bright and energetic, too often settled for the joy and power of charity and conversion, mostly ignoring the systemic issues of justice.

IJM deals with slavery (27 million in the world today), the sex trade and the theft of widow's property, and it was clear to me, they are dealing with systemic issues.

If charity and conversation are the two "c's" of faith, there is a third c, Change ... systemic change.

I was heartened by what I heard, and I believe that God's Spirit is moving mightily among a younger generation of evangelicals taking them beyond charity and conversion to changing systemic evils.

More than ever, I am grateful to be a Presbyterian - we have a fine track record on justice - our mission agencies, our missionaries - have tackled some incredibly tough issues around the world, and we've been making a huge difference.

Where it will all end, who knows. But I think mainline and evangelical Christians will find a lot to talk about, and pray about, TOGETHER, when we find common ground in the Great Commandment and the Third C.

Just a few random thoughts from a random kind of a guy!