End the Protest

Protestant Christianity is coming up on its 500^th birthday.  In just 5 years, I expect we’ll see news articles and television specials commemorating half a millennium since Father Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door of Wittenburg’s church.  Only today, the movement spawned by Luther’s hammer counts twice as many adherents in places like Nigeria than in his homeland of Germany.  Far from being a blip on the radar of history, the loose coalition of churches known as “Protestantism” now boasts a global population of over 800 million – or 37% of all Christians. 

We in the United States have been shaped by a Protestant Christian identity more than perhaps any other country.  Notions of freedom, individualism, and personal responsibility are deeply rooted in a Protestant ethos that has influenced our society on everything from the way we vote to the things we believe to the stuff we buy.  Interestingly, in spite of the well publicized decline of the historic “mainline” Protestant denominations (Protestants still make up a thin majority of all Americans), America will likely continue to be “Protestant” even if it ceases to be so in church membership.  

There’s no doubt that Protestantism, as a movement, has been a successful one if you’re looking at numbers and influence.  But has it achieved what it set out to do as a movement within the Christian Church?  In other words, what exactly are Protestants “protesting” anymore?

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

The medieval Church was corrupt.  Luther wasn’t the only one saying so.  He just managed to say it loud enough to get kicked out.  Sure, he turned out to be crazy about a few things, but Luther’s excommunication is one of the saddest moments in the Church’s history.  Like any divorce, blame falls on both sides.  And even if the separation was necessary, it is certainly nothing to celebrate.

Ironically, or perhaps tragically, the Catholic (or “counter”) Reformation that followed Luther’s exit ended up addressing many of the reformers’ concerns.  Even more of those original protests have been answered by the staggering amount of change embraced by the Catholic Church over the past century.  Mass in the peoples’ language?  Check.  Empowering the laity?  Check.  Freedom of conscience?  Check.  Bible studies and Protestant hymns?  Check (check your missal).  Justification by grace alone through faith?  Double check! 

While the Catholic Church is looking more “Protestant,” Protestantism has fallen victim to the thing Catholicism has always most criticized it for.  Without one central focus of unity and authority, it continues its never-ending course of fragmentation into thousands of denominations.  Today, after a brief period of ecumenical consolidation, independent evangelical and Pentecostal churches and mainline squabbles over sexuality threaten to splinter historic Protestantism beyond recognition. 

Life outside the Catholic Church for Protestants has always been a necessary evil until the reformers’ “protests” have been addressed.  Now they have.  We’ve achieved what we set out to do as a movement.  What we must now address is the unnecessary evil of remaining divided in spite of Jesus’ prayer that we “might be one…so that the world will believe.”

It’s time to end the protest.

LET'S GET TOGETHER, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH

I’m not saying that all Protestants should rush over to the nearest Catholic parish and sign up for RCIA.  I was born and raised a Protestant Christian and as a Methodist minister, I am determined to work for unity from this side of the Reformation divorce.  Neither can I (or any self-respecting Protestant, for that matter) accept the Catholic claim to be the only true church, especially in an age where half of all baptized Christians aren’t Catholic!

What we Protestants can and should do is acknowledge the negative consequences of the Reformation on our unity and witness as Christians in the world today.  Our current sad, divided state of affairs makes this seem self-evident.  In an effort to protect individual freedom, we have too often been willing to ignore wider Christian tradition and permit (or condone!) unnecessary further divisions within the Body of Christ.  Given our current disjointed state, we can certainly say that although we do not need a pope to be “church” – the office could certainly be useful as a visible sign of unity and authority! 

In addition to acknowledging the harm of our present divisions, we Protestants should affirm that we no longer believe that our differences with the Catholic Church present a sufficient barrier to unity.  Most people sitting in Protestant and Catholic pews already believe this to be true!  But before we can make such a positive claim, it is important that we are clear on what it is that we already hold in common.  I believe Ephesians 4:5 provides a beautiful starting point and rallying cry: “one Lord, one faith, one baptism.”  One Lord Jesus Christ, God with us, the Savior of the world.  One faith as contained in the Bible and interpreted by tradition, reason, and experience.  One baptism by water and the Spirit into the family of God.

Here is the essence of Christianity.  We already hold it in common: one Lord, one faith, one baptism.  The only thing that holds us back from greater unity is the insistence that we must accept more than this to truly be brothers and sisters.  We’re ending the protest.

WHAT IF?

Of course, the Catholic Church would not welcome Protestants back into their fold without some kind of re-ordination (which would, conceivably, exclude at least all women – a deal breaker for my own United Methodist tradition).  But at least, we Protestants would no longer be defining ourselves negatively as “protesters” against the Catholic Church but by what we hold in common and the potential for greater unity.  We’d be saying that we need each other; that we’re ready to take steps toward healing this divorce if and when our Catholic brothers and sisters are willing to meet us halfway.

For sure, living in separate communities for 500 years provides lots of practical challenges, not least of which are those boring issues of denominational property and pension plans.  But the recent Anglican Ordinariate provides some cause for hope (or at least some creative imagination).  Here are married (re-ordained, yes) Anglican priests being received into the Catholic Church and allowed to continue many elements of their worship and traditions!  What if we could retain our own denominations’ gifts and emphases? What if particularly befuddling Catholic dogmas could be re-presented to us Protestants (since we were excluded from most of those conversations in the first place)?  What if the ordination of future Protestant pastors included Catholic bishops as a (for Catholics, necessary; for Protestants, useful) step toward full unity?  What if there was a day when whole Protestant denominations could exist in communion with Rome as autonomous churches like the Byzantine Catholics?

That’s a lot of what ifs.  But maybe it starts with ending the protest. 

Bridging the Divide?

A generation ago, Protestantism could be roughly divided into two groups, theologically speaking:

• Evangelicals. For evangelicals (who would rarely self-identify as "Protestant"), Christianity can be boiled down to the Bible and the Spirit-filled individual.  Everyone who accepts Jesus as Savior is filled with the Holy Spirit and is empowered to interpret the Bible according to its plain meaning and their own conscience. (You begin to see why there are so many varieties of Baptists and Pentecostals...)

• Historic Protestants.  For historic Protestants, Christianity can be boiled down to the Bible and Spirit-filled tradition.  Everyone who accepts Jesus as Savior is filled with the Holy Spirit and is empowered to interpret the Bible within the boundaries of historic Christianity as expressed in the great creeds and catechisms of the Church (though the specific catechisms may vary by denomination). 

Like any generalization - especially of a complex thing like religion - there are exceptions to this classification.  But for the most part, this division held true, with ecumenical dialogue and cooperation mainly occurring within each group's respective circle of like-minded Christians.

Historic Protestants were generally part of the World Council of Churches and also members of their own "confessional family" like the Anglican Communion, Lutheran World Federation, World Methodist Council, and World Communion of Reformed Churches.  While some visible church unions did occur, historic Protestants tended to cooperate on social justice issues.

Evangelicals, who had rejected membership in the World Council of Churches, organized their own ecumenical confederations like the World Evangelical Alliance and Pentecostal World Fellowship - aimed not at visible church unions or social justice, but cooperation in missions and evangelism.

Now, however, I believe we are witnessing the blurring of these former lines of ecumenical cooperation.  This is the "realignment" of American religion around human sexuality that is erasing the middle ground that historic Protestants used to occupy in the United States.  For example, you now have Lutherans and Anglicans who identify more with evangelicals and Catholics than with fellow historic Protestants who happen to support the ordination of LGBT persons.  This realignment threatens to dismember the former unity over what it means to be "Anglican" or "Lutheran" in favor of a more individualistic interpretation of what "I think" the Bible teaches about human sexuality.

Still, there are voices that are reaching across this new divide as well as the old one.  It just so happens that two of the most compelling ecumenical Protestant voices are Lutherans.

According to an article by the Christian Post, Bishop Mark S. Hanson, president of the Lutheran World Federation and presiding bishop of the ELCA, recently "encouraged Christians to begin the conversation by identifying what they have in common – such as 'we are all sexual beings' – rather than from a position of judgment.  He expressed concerns over emerging conversations in some Lutheran churches about what it means to be truly Lutheran.  'I sense that there is a growing desire on the part of some to look at our rich, shared confessions not as a reason for conversation about how we can live in that confessional tradition, but rather as a way of determining who is truly Lutheran and who is not,' he said, noting that he desires to see full unity among Lutherans themselves. 'That would be an unfortunate breakdown.'  Hanson called for not only affirming the theological and confessional foundations they share as Lutherans, but also for renewing a commitment 'that to be Lutheran is to be both evangelical and ecumenical.'"

Meanwhile, the Rev. Olav Fykse Tveit, a Norwegian Lutheran and general secretary of the World Council of Churches, has concentrated much of his efforts on reaching out to evangelicals and Pentecostals.  Rev. Tveit gave the first ever addresses by a WCC general secretary at the assemblies of the World Pentecostal Alliance and the ongoing Lausanne Congress for World Evangelization in Cape Town, which, according to the Christian Century, originated as "an evangelical counterpart to the ecumenical WCC."
In his address on opening day, Rev. Tveit stressed the need for evangelicals and historic Protestants to learn from each other in order to participate together in God's mission.  "We are called to be one, to be reconciled, so that the world may believe that God reconciles the world to himself in Christ."  "Hinting at a history of wariness be­tween evangelicals, Pentecostals, and the World Council of Churches, he said that 'the distance between Lausanne and Geneva is not very far, and it should not be. Let us keep the road open and the dialogue going.'"  

What do you think?  Can the old divide between evangelicals and historic Protestants be bridged?  Can the unfolding divide over human sexuality be prevented?

The Lutherans and the Vanishing Middle Ground

Lutherans in the Middle
 Lutheranism has long represented the middle ground in American Christianity.  Although initially viewed as outside the mainstream of English-speaking Protestantism, German and Scandinavian Lutherans came to join the ranks of other mainline Protestants - especially in the Midwest or the "American Heartland."

Today, when people think of Lutherans, many think of Garrison Keillor's "Prairie Home Companion" and the bland residents of the fictional Lake Wobegon, "the little town that time forgot and the decades cannot improve ... where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average."  Like their Methodist and Presbyterian cousins, Lutherans are not likely to wear their religion on their sleeves and therefore lack the chutzpah of the megachurches and Pentecostals on their right or the United Church of Christ and Episcopalians on their left.  In other words, Lutherans are "nice" but not especially interesting - which has positioned them solidly in the middle ground of American religious life.

Perhaps because of their place in the middle, the Lutherans have done the best job of any Protestant denomination at working for Christian unity.  When efforts at creating a visibly united Protestant church in America fell through in the late twentieth century, the Lutherans forged ahead with talks aimed at "full communion" - a common confession of the Christian faith and mutual recognition of baptism, ministry, and sharing of the Lord's Supper.   Remarkably, the largest Lutheran church in the country with 4.7 million members, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), has reached full communion agreements with the following churches:

• Three Reformed churches in 1997: the Presbyterian Church (USA), the United Church of Christ (formerly the Congregationalists or the "Puritans"), and the Reformed Church in America (Dutch Reformed roots)
• The Episcopal Church and the Moravian Church (German Pietists) in 1999
• The United Methodist Church in 2009

The Vanishing Middle?
Then, last August, the Lutherans (ELCA) shocked Christians around the world at their general assembly by voting to ordain openly gay people in "life-long, monogamous relationships."  What's more, this was not a frivolous, emotional decision - but a conclusion reached after eight years of study and deliberation over the theological issues surrounding human sexuality (a very "Lutheran" way to go about things).  Suddenly, the plain old "Lake Wobegon" Lutherans were receiving international attention as the largest church in the world to officially approve the ordination of homosexuals.

Richard Mouw, president of the evangelical Fuller Theological Seminary, noted that the ELCA's decision was especially "jarring and significant" because "it is viewed as one of the more Reformation-rooted, broadly orthodox denominations and takes its theology seriously...it's a huge, huge departure for a church like that."  He went on to predict a "new ecumenical dialogue on the right" uniting conservatives opposed to homosexual ordination from across denominations.

Meanwhile, ELCA Presiding Bishop Mark Hanson issued a sincere Rowan Williams-esque plea for unity and conversation, stressing that conservative churches would not be compelled to hire gay clergy and imploring Lutherans not to "walk away" from one another.  But those who support the ELCA's decision like Barbara Wheeler, former president of Auburn Theological Seminary, were quick to point out that "if gays and lesbians could stick it out in mainline churches whose official teachings were dismissive of their faithfulness and even their personhood, so can disappointed conservatives...one of the mainline's strengths is to be a 'big tent.'"

It appears, however, that the tent may have stretched to the breaking point.  Only months after the ELCA's decision, conservative members announced a "reconfiguration of North American Lutheranism" and they were splitting to form their own new denomination - the North American Lutheran Church.  "We are not leaving the ELCA.  The ELCA has left us," said one member of the committee to form the new church.  Interestingly, the breakaway ELCA Lutherans decided not to merge with other conservative denominations like the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod or the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod because those churches do not ordain women. 

Now that two major "mainstream" Protestant churches have split, it seems clear that we are witnessing Christian unity in America being "reconfigured" between those who are in favor of ordination of homosexuals and those who are not.  The middle ground that the Lutherans and other mainline Protestants used to occupy in American religious life has vanished.  In a new and increasingly polarized Protestantism, what will Christian unity look like?

Can a Protestant wear a Crucifix?

The cross is the central symbol of Christianity around the world.  And yet, we Christians are divided on what exactly our crosses look like.  Some, like the Orthodox, have extra lines running through the cross.  Many Reformed Christians favor the Celtic cross, with a circle running around the center of the cross section.  And I can always spot a United Methodist church when driving along the highway by their signature cross and flame.

But the most noticeable difference among Christians when it comes to the cross is whether or not it has the body of Jesus hanging on it.  For most people (at least in this country), the empty cross is Protestant.  The crucifix is Catholic.  Derek Kubilus, a Methodist minister in Ohio and a friend from divinity school, offers his own personal perspective on why Protestants can embrace the "Catholic" crucifix as an important way to "remember the body."

Ephesians 4:4- “There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all, who is above all and through all and in all.”

I can't remember one day in my life when my body did not feel pain. Having been born with an orthopedic problem in my foot, I've awakened every morning of my life with stiffness and pain shooting from my right ankle. Sometimes it gets better throughout the day; sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes my limp is barely noticeable; sometimes I have to walk with a cane just to keep from falling over. So even as a young child, I remember wondering why God would allow me, supposedly one of God's beloved children, to feel so much pain.

Now I've been a Methodist all my life, and I'm well aware that Methodists typically hang only empty crosses from their necks and the walls of their churches. Most people will tell you that it's because the empty cross is a symbol of the empty tomb, that it's a symbol that represents the resurrection of Christ, and not just his crucifixion. All that may very well be true, but I'm not sure it's the whole story.

There's something creepy and morbid about a crucifix isn't there? I mean, who would wear a piece of jewelery shaped like a body dying in agony? Who would hang a beat-up, bleeding man from their wall? What kind of sick person could take inspiration from such a gruesome scene?

Well...I do. Being someone who's body has been wracked with pain, I take comfort in remembering that Christ had a body. I wear a crucifix under my shirt and over my robe because it's important for me to remember that Christ didn't have a body that was above pain, but that his body was just as capable of hurting and bleeding as my own. The crucifix helps me remember that I'm connected to Christ not just through the “one Spirit” but also through my very body. The miracle of Christ, the miracle of God's incarnation in a human body is that the same God who is “above all” is also “in all and through all,” even my own weak, hurting body.

The crucifix also tells me that bodies matter to God, that things like hunger, homelessness, and disease are important to God. Seeing the body of Christ helps to remind me of the suffering bodies of those all around us in the Akron and Cuyahoga Falls communities: those whose bodies are cold because they aren't covered with proper clothes or shelter, those whose bodies are starved with hunger, those whose bodies are addicted to chemicals that are slowly destroying them. Seeing the body of Christ hanging there, suffering, draws me closer to all those who suffer and it encourages me to see Jesus in their struggles, for “that which you have done to the least of these, you have done unto me.”

Finally, the crucifix reminds me that the Church, the Body of Christ still on earth, is called to suffer. Living in our comfortable, wealthy society, it is perfectly acceptable for us to go through our whole lives and only work for the comfort ourselves and our individual families. But the suffering body hanging on the cross so close against my skin reminds me that I'm part of a community that has been called to “bear its cross,” a community which has been called to leave behind comfort, safety, and warm-fuzzy feelings for the sake of God's mission of salvation in the world. It helps me remember that that the world is fallen and that if we are to join Christ in his ministry to transform the world, then we must be willing to sacrifice something of ourselves.

So the next time you see my crucifix hanging from my neck, don't worry, I haven't become Roman Catholic. Just take a second to remember the Body and the suffering God it belongs to.

Rome and Canterbury on Christian Unity

Two weeks ago, the pope stepped into Westminster Abbey.  Pope Benedict XVI joined the spiritual head of the Anglican Communion, Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, along with representatives from all other major Christian groups in Great Britain for a service of evening prayer.  As Father Raymond J. de Souza put it, "sometimes words are inadequate to the moment, and this moment, carrying in itself nearly a thousand years of history, brought an abiding and expectant silence to Westminster Hall as Britain's political establishment waited for Pope Benedict XVI at the site where St. Thomas More and other martyrs were condemned to death for their Catholic faith."

At such a gathering, how could ecumenism be ignored?  In their addresses, both Benedict and Williams focused on Christian unity, revealing how each approaches questions surrounding the challenges of ecumenism in the 21st century.  At the suggestion of a close friend and future Episcopal priest, Joshua Caler, I share their reflections now with you in their own words.

Pope Benedict XVI:
Dear friends in Christ,

I thank the Lord for this opportunity to join you, the representatives of the Christian confessions present in Great Britain, in this magnificent Abbey Church dedicated to Saint Peter, whose architecture and history speak so eloquently of our common heritage of faith. Here we cannot help but be reminded of how greatly the Christian faith shaped the unity and culture of Europe and the heart and spirit of the English people. Here too, we are forcibly reminded that what we share, in Christ, is greater than what continues to divide us.

I am grateful to His Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury for his kind greeting, and to the Dean and Chapter of this venerable Abbey for their cordial welcome. I thank the Lord for allowing me, as the Successor of Saint Peter in the See of Rome, to make this pilgrimage to the tomb of Saint Edward the Confessor. Edward, King of England, remains a model of Christian witness and an example of that true grandeur to which the Lord summons his disciples in the Scriptures we have just heard: the grandeur of a humility and obedience grounded in Christ’s own example (cf. Phil 2:6-8), the grandeur of a fidelity which does not hesitate to embrace the mystery of the Cross out of undying love for the divine Master and unfailing hope in his promises (cf. Mk 10:43-44).

This year, as we know, marks the hundredth anniversary of the modern ecumenical movement, which began with the Edinburgh Conference’s appeal for Christian unity as the prerequisite for a credible and convincing witness to the Gospel in our time. In commemorating this anniversary, we must give thanks for the remarkable progress made towards this noble goal through the efforts of committed Christians of every denomination. At the same time, however, we remain conscious of how much yet remains to be done. In a world marked by growing interdependence and solidarity, we are challenged to proclaim with renewed conviction the reality of our reconciliation and liberation in Christ, and to propose the truth of the Gospel as the key to an authentic and integral human development. In a society which has become increasingly indifferent or even hostile to the Christian message, we are all the more compelled to give a joyful and convincing account of the hope that is within us (cf. 1 Pet 3:15), and to present the Risen Lord as the response to the deepest questions and spiritual aspirations of the men and women of our time.

As we processed to the chancel at the beginning of this service, the choir sang that Christ is our “sure foundation”. He is the Eternal Son of God, of one substance with the Father, who took flesh, as the Creed states, “for us men and for our salvation”. He alone has the words of everlasting life. In him, as the Apostle teaches, “all things hold together” … “for in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell” (Col 1:17,19).

Our commitment to Christian unity is born of nothing less than our faith in Christ, in this Christ, risen from the dead and seated at the right hand of the Father, who will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead. It is the reality of Christ’s person, his saving work and above all the historical fact of his resurrection, which is the content of the apostolic kerygma and those credal formulas which, beginning in the New Testament itself, have guaranteed the integrity of its transmission. The Church’s unity, in a word, can never be other than a unity in the apostolic faith, in the faith entrusted to each new member of the Body of Christ during the rite of Baptism. It is this faith which unites us to the Lord, makes us sharers in his Holy Spirit, and thus, even now, sharers in the life of the Blessed Trinity, the model of the Church’s koinonia here below.

Dear friends, we are all aware of the challenges, the blessings, the disappointments and the signs of hope which have marked our ecumenical journey. Tonight we entrust all of these to the Lord, confident in his providence and the power of his grace. We know that the friendships we have forged, the dialogue which we have begun and the hope which guides us will provide strength and direction as we persevere on our common journey. At the same time, with evangelical realism, we must also recognize the challenges which confront us, not only along the path of Christian unity, but also in our task of proclaiming Christ in our day. Fidelity to the word of God, precisely because it is a true word, demands of us an obedience which leads us together to a deeper understanding of the Lord’s will, an obedience which must be free of intellectual conformism or facile accommodation to the spirit of the age. This is the word of encouragement which I wish to leave with you this evening, and I do so in fidelity to my ministry as the Bishop of Rome and the Successor of Saint Peter, charged with a particular care for the unity of Christ’s flock.

Gathered in this ancient monastic church, we can recall the example of a great Englishman and churchman whom we honour in common: Saint Bede the Venerable. At the dawn of a new age in the life of society and of the Church, Bede understood both the importance of fidelity to the word of God as transmitted by the apostolic tradition, and the need for creative openness to new developments and to the demands of a sound implantation of the Gospel in contemporary language and culture.

This nation, and the Europe which Bede and his contemporaries helped to build, once again stands at the threshold of a new age. May Saint Bede’s example inspire the Christians of these lands to rediscover their shared legacy, to strengthen what they have in common, and to continue their efforts to grow in friendship. May the Risen Lord strengthen our efforts to mend the ruptures of the past and to meet the challenges of the present with hope in the future which, in his providence, he holds out to us and to our world. Amen.

Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams:
Your Holiness, Members of the Collegiate Body, distinguished guests, brothers and sisters in Christ:

Christians in Britain, especially in England, look back with the most fervent gratitude to the events of 597, when Augustine landed on these shores to preach the gospel to the Anglo-Saxons at the behest of Pope St Gregory the Great.  For Christians of all traditions and confessions, St Gregory is a figure of compelling attractiveness and spiritual authority – pastor and leader, scholar and exegete and spiritual guide.  The fact that the first preaching of the Gospel to the English peoples in the sixth and seventh centuries has its origins in his vision creates a special connection for us with the See of the Apostles Peter and Paul;  and Gregory's witness and legacy remain an immensely fruitful source of inspiration for our own mission in these dramatically different times.  Two dimensions of that vision may be of special importance as we reflect today on the significance of Your Holiness's visit to us.

St Gregory was the first to spell out for the faithful something of the magnitude of the gift given to Christ's Church through the life of St Benedict – to whom you, Your Holiness, have signalled your devotion in the choice of your name as Pope.  In St Gregory's Dialogues, we can trace the impact of St Benedict – an extraordinary man who, through a relatively brief Rule of life, opened up for the whole civilisation of Europe since the sixth century the possibility of living in joy and mutual service, in simplicity and self-denial, in a balanced pattern of labour and prayer in which every moment spoke of human dignity fully realised in surrender to a loving God. The Benedictine life proved a sure foundation not only for generations of monks and nuns, but for an entire culture in which productive work and contemplative silence and receptivity—human dignity and human freedom—were both honoured.

Our own culture, a culture in which so often it seems that 'love has grown cold', is one in which we can see the dehumanising effects of losing sight of Benedict's vision.  Work is so often an anxious and obsessive matter, as if our whole value as human beings depended upon it; and so, consequently, unemployment, still a scourge and a threat in these uncertain financial times, comes to seem like a loss of dignity and meaning in life.  We live in an age where there is a desperate need to recover the sense of the dignity of both labour and leisure and the necessity of a silent openness to God that allows our true character to grow and flourish by participating in an eternal love.

In a series of profound and eloquent encyclicals, you have explored these themes for our day, grounding everything in the eternal love of the Holy Trinity, challenging us to hope both for this world and the next, and analysing the ways in which our economic habits have trapped us in a reductive and unworthy style of human living.  In this building with its long Benedictine legacy, we acknowledge with gratitude your contribution to a Benedictine vision for our days, and pray that your time with us in Britain may help us all towards a renewal of the hope and energy we need as Christians to witness to our conviction that in their relation to God men and women may grow into the fullest freedom and beauty of spirit.

And in this, we are recalled also to the importance among the titles of the Bishops of Rome of St Gregory's own self-designation as 'servant of the servants of God' – surely the one title that points most directly to the example of the Lord who has called us. There is, we know, no authority in the Church that is not the authority of service:  that is, of building up the people of God to full maturity.  Christ's service is simply the way in which we meet his almighty power: the power to remake the world he has created, pouring out into our lives, individually and together, what we truly need in order to become fully what we are made to be – the image of the divine life.  It is that image which the pastor in the Church seeks to serve, bowing down in reverence before each human person in the knowledge of the glory for which he or she was made.

Christians have very diverse views about the nature of the vocation that belongs to the See of Rome.  Yet, as Your Holiness's great predecessor reminded us all in his encyclical Ut Unum Sint, we must learn to reflect together on how the historic ministry of the Roman Church and its chief pastor may speak to the Church catholic—East and West, global north and global south—of the authority of Christ and his apostles to build up the Body in love; how it may be realized as a ministry of patience and reverence towards all, a ministry of creative love and self-giving that leads us all into the same path of seeking not our own comfort or profit but the good of the entire human community and the glory of God the creator and redeemer.

We pray that your time with us will be a further step for all of us into the mystery of the cross and the resurrection, so that growing together we may become more effective channels for God's purpose to heal the wounds of humankind, and to restore once again both in our societies and our environment the likeness of his glory as revealed in the face of Jesus Christ.

Exciting News!

I apologize for the lack of updates over the past couple months. I think that I am finally adjusting into my new schedule as a pastor serving in my first appointment. As I have told many of you, there is nothing I would rather be doing every day...and I still can't believe I'm getting paid to love people!

Despite this blog silence, all has not stayed completely quiet on the ecumenical front. A couple months back, I decided to enter an essay contest for the National Council of Churches entitled: "Moving Forward Together: Visions of Young American Ecumenists." Approximately 10 essays were selected to appear in an anthology to be presented at the National Council of Churches Ecumenical Centennial Gathering in November - and then are intended to be published.

Drawing in part from my posts on this site, I wrote on the topic of unity -- and my essay was selected! I titled my essay "The Scandal of Main Street Steeples: Imagining Christian Unity in Postmodern America."

Also, over the next couple months, I'm going to start blogging again, this time addressing some of the more current ecumenical news concerning the various major Christian traditions. Check back often and be sure to keep the conversation going!

Beyond Denominations?

Over the past twenty years, a remarkable shift has taken place in American religion. While most of the large Christian denominations in the US went into decline, "nondenominational" Christianity - typified by megachurches like Lakewood, Saddleback, and Willow Creek - experienced an explosion of growth. Nondenominational churches grew from less than 200,000 adherents in 1990 to over 8,000,000 today. When grouped together with those who identify only as "Christian" or as "Evangelical", this group comprises 11.8% of the US population.

Part of the success of nondenominational churches has been their ability to harness the shifting winds toward postmodernism in American society. In a culture that chafes at authority, tradition, and establishment, any sign of "your grandmother's church" has to go. In the place of stained glass, hymns, pews, and robes, nondenominational congregations have embraced nondescript buildings, rock music, theater seating, and jeans in an effort to attract religious "seekers". Instead of conforming to the catechisms and creeds of a single dominant tradition like "Calvinism" or "Lutheranism" - nondenominational churches provide individuals who are frustrated with denominational divisions with the freedom to draw from a variety of Christian beliefs and practices.

In spite of their disillusionment with Christian denominationalism, these independent congregations see no reason to insist on visible unity. A national or worldwide structure over all the churches conflicts with a postmodern vision of the Church as a decentralized network of Spirit-led and Bible-listening believers.

So, then, is the nondenominational movement the answer to the scandal of denominations? Are we moving into a new age of post-denominational unity? While the culture may be moving toward a “post-denominational” future, I believe that denominations continue to have an important role to play in the quest for Christian unity.

First off, they confront the reality that the Christian Church is sadly but visibly divided. I am glad that so many Christians are eager to move past our denominational divisions – but if all local congregations drop their denominational labels and become “Grace Church” or “Bible Church,” this division does not go away – in fact, it is amplified (from 10 denominations to 1000 congregations)! Without a common history and tradition, people tend to create their own personal version of Christianity (or their pastor's version) – and any overarching unity that exists seems to resemble the surrounding culture more than Christianity.

Denominations provide a history, a language, a tradition in which to live out the Christian faith. Each denomination brings its own gifts to the larger body of Christ. In order for the Church to truly move toward a visible undivided (nondenominational) church, we must first listen to “the grace given to you in Christ” in our brothers and sisters who are committed to different traditions from our own. Then, we can struggle together to find creative ways of building common ground while remaining faithful to our own own tradition. This is difficult ecumenical work, but I believe it is the best way to take each of our denominations beautiful and unique voices and blend them into a unified, harmonious chorus.

Lastly, while postmodernism includes many positive developments - including the humility that is essential for Christian unity - more and more people are feeling adrift, isolated, and disconnected. It’s hard to devote your life to something when all truth is relative, when everything is ultimately meaningless. This is why I know many friends my age who are finding peace and rest in the Catholic and Orthodox churches, which claim historical apostolic authority. In my own experience, I feel deeply committed to my own Methodist tradition – and yet still realize that my denomination is only one small part of the Christian Church and that we are called to “be one".

The way to work toward healing the divisions of the Reformation (and beyond) is by understanding and appreciating the differences of the denominational traditions – not pretending they do not exist.