I confess that
I am distressed by my ineffective, feeble “effort to maintain the unity of the
Spirit in the bond of peace.” (Ephesians 4:3) Division over political, social, and economic
issues seems to be damaging the country and overflowing to rend the Church. I
am struggling with how to respond faithfully to the way these divisions have
brought Christian unity under siege. While differences of opinion are a
universal part of the human experience, in both political and spiritual realms,
many have observed a significant increase in zero-sum binary thinking in the
country that seems to be infecting the Church as well. “Us vs. Them” thinking that
divides into two competing camps, spawns further fragmentation as differences
within the camps also splinter and cripple each of them.
This
divisiveness is threating the oneness of the Church.
I sense it is our time of trial from which I
pray daily to be delivered, as Jesus taught. I have been well aware for some
time that the petition “lead us not into temptation” in the Lord’s Prayer may
be better translated “do not bring us to the time of trial,” as the NRSV
renders it. (I did reflect on that at
http://nstolpepilgrim.blogspot.com/2018/04/lead-us-not-into-time-of-testing.html.)
As I use the Lord’s Prayer to prompt part of my daily prayer routine, I have
been conversing with God more and more about what seems to me to be the present
time of trial for the Church. In these conversations I have become increasingly
convinced and concerned that our time of trial is in maintaining “the unity of
the Spirit in the bond of peace.”
I sense a
growing chasm between those who call for biblical justice and compassion for
the weak, poor, and marginalized people among and around us and those who call
for patriotism and support for a pride-filled vision of the nation as a Christian responsibility. I
am well aware that this shorthand greatly oversimplifies the complex
constellation of issues and principles involved, but I do believe most of us
recognize which one is “us” and which one is “them.” I also want to be clear
that my agony here is not so much over the division and fragmentation in the
country, though that is important, as it is about how this seems to be
contaminating and dividing the Church in the US. My sense is that our unity in
Christ is under siege. Not only do I feel personally powerless to address it,
despite my best intentions, I feel sucked into its vortex.
Though it was
not included in the liturgy at the time of my 1975 ordination in a
non-denominational congregation, I have committed myself to the pledge to
maintain the peace, unity, and purity of the Church that is common to ordination
vows in many traditions. Keeping the delicate balance of peace, unity, purity
is not easy. Often those who insist they are protecting purity do so at the
expense of peace and unity. Often those who put the priority on peace and unity
are vulnerable to compromising purity. Part of the challenge is that while we
might all affirm peace, unity, and purity, definitions of each can vary widely,
especially about what standards of purity entail.
Disagreements
that threaten the unity of the Church go back to the New Testament time. Romans
14:5 gives this instruction for handling disputable issues in the Church, “Let
all be fully convinced in their own minds.” One of the challenges of becoming
“fully convinced” is that you start to think everyone else should be similarly
convinced, especially if you are convinced those who disagree with you are a
threat to the purity of the Church. I examined this in “
My Conscientious
Objector Journey and Witness” at
http://nstolpepilgrim.blogspot.com/2018/06/my-conscientious-objector-journey-and.html.
I am struggling with how I can “maintain the unity of the Spirit in
the bond of peace” when the chasm between what Christians whom I love and
respect seems to be widening rapidly over deeply held positions that seem
irreconcilable and essential to the purity and witness of the Church in our
time.
My ordination
standing is with the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), though I have
served and fellowshipped with a wide variety of Christians. Barton Stone, one
of the founders of the movement that became the Christian Church (Disciples of
Christ), said, “Let unity be our polar star.” And Thomas Campbell, another
founder of that movement, wrote, “The church of Christ upon earth is
essentially, intentionally, and constitutionally one.” The core commitment to
the unity of the Church has not prevented sometimes grievous divisions in that
movement, and some would say unity has come at the expense of purity. I won’t
delve into that any further except to note that some retellings of the history
of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) points with satisfaction if not
pride to the fact that they did not divide over slavery or the Civil War – War Between
the States as did other major denominations, some of whom did not reunite for a
century, and then with some rancor and other divisions.
I am in no
position to critique those who made these decisions a century and a half ago. However,
having lived and served in Texas for seventeen years, I have also learned that
the Civil War – War Between the States and slavery are still viewed quite
differently by many than the presuppositions among northern folk with whom I
have spent most of my life. That war is often cast as defending one’s home from
outside, confiscatory aggressors more than about slavery or even preserving or
seceding from the Union. Robert E. Lee is revered and respected (I was taught respect
for him in public school in California in the 50s and 60s as well.) while
Abraham Lincoln is considered suspect and not highly ranked among US
Presidents. I am not going to try to argue the interpretation of this history,
but only ask if there were not moral issues at stake at the time that
threatened the purity of the Church, even as unity was preserved in that church
context.
In his prayer
in John 17, Jesus prayed not just for his disciples but for us, “those who will
believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you,
Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world
may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have
given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in
me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you
have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.” (vv. 20-23) The
core of Jesus prayer for us is that we would be one, just as he was one with
the Father, and that oneness would bring the world to believe that the Father
had sent him. Jesus’ prayer suggests that the divisions among those of us who
follow him are harmful to the mission of inviting the people of the world to
believe that the Father sent Jesus.
I am not
interested in some arcane debate over how God answers any prayers, much less
this prayer of Jesus. However, the history of divisions among those who have
followed Jesus through the centuries suggests we ourselves have been an
impediment to the Father’s answer to Jesus’ pray for us to be one.
In Acts 15,
they made a good and important start when they decided not to have two
churches: one for Jews and another for Gentiles. Instead, they clearly opted
for unity that brought together Jews and Greeks, slave and free, male and
female, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian and Scythian; for all are one
in Christ Jesus. (Romans 10:12; 1 Corinthians 12:13; Galatians 3:28; Colossians
3:11) After the time of the Apostles the Gospel spread and considerable
theological variety emerged. After Constantine made his rather distorted
version of Christianity the religion of the Roman Empire, there was a political
push for unity under the rubric of One Empire. Some of that did clean up the
confusion of heresies but introduced government force to insist on doctrinal
conformity which spawned problems that I think would better have been worked
out with open dialog within the Church. Be that as it may, the Great Schism of
1054 divided the Church into East and West, largely over power. The stirrings
of dissent had been growing for some time when Luther’s actions in 1517
launched the Reformation. This bred not only Roman Catholic and Protestant and
Eastern Orthodox churches, but the Reformation splintered into many competing groups,
especially in the United States. The Fundamentalist–Modernist Controversy at
the beginning of the 20th century divided Protestants of all
traditions into two camps, who sometimes treated each other viciously.
I was raised
and educated in a solidly evangelical context (Bethel College of St. Paul, MN
and Wheaton Grad School of Wheaton, IL). I served much of my ministry career in
mainline congregations (some but not all self-identified as evangelical in
flavor). I have had three Roman Catholic spiritual directors and participated
in a Roman Catholic community (L’Arche Daybreak in Richmond Hill, Ontario). With
considerable benefit, I have drawn from Eastern Orthodox spirituality. I have had
substantial interaction with people of Anabaptist tradition and now my wife and
I fellowship with both a Mennonite and a non-denominational congregation. This has given
me a sense of the bridging some of these historic divisions in our time, which
I feel I have been able to participated in to some measure. This has been a
source of joy and hope for me.
Against this
backdrop, the schism I perceive to be widening in our time is acutely painful
for me. It seems to be cutting across the grain of the more recent experiences
and expressions of unity in Christ that I and others have been appreciating.
Threatening invectives are being hurled across the ever widening gap, accusing
those on the other side of not being true to Christ. The principle of being
convinced in your own mind and still welcoming those of a different opinion as
kindred in Christ is crumbling from both sides. “How can you call yourself a
Christian and support … (fill in the blank with your own shibboleth)?” Learning
from each other by dialoging about what brought us to be fully convinced is an
endangered practice.
My sense is
that the Church (all who follow Jesus from all traditions) in our time is
facing a similar dilemma to what the Confessing Church faced in Nazi Germany. I
mention this with some hesitation, as I know accusations of Nazism and Fascism
are being hurled around in the political arena. While there may be some reasons
for that, I don’t want the emotional reactions to such name-calling to distract
from learning from the Confessing Church lessons I believe we need in our time.
The rise of the
Nazis into power in German government challenged the Lutheran and Reformed
pastors and theologians who took exception to what the government expected of
the churches. They had generations of state church and government cooperation.
The churches kept records of births/baptisms, marriages, and deaths for the
state. In some instances pastors were virtual employees of the state paid by
the state. Some of their predecessors in the generation of The Great War (as they
called World War I since they didn’t anticipate another world war) preached
that Germany was God’s instrument to save Christian civilization from secular
democracy, and they prayed blessing on the soldiers and weapons as they pursued
this holy cause. While formally structured in law and bureaucracy in contrast
to the separation of church and state we are used to, the sentiment was much
the same as the impetus to consider the US as a Christian nation in some
circles today.
We need to
remember that at that time “Nazi” was not a slur loaded with negative emotional
connotations, but for many German people was a movement for recovering national
respect after the humiliation of the defeat of World War I. In 1933 Ludwig
Müller was appointed by the Nazi government as Reichsbischof of the
German Evangelical Church (“German
Christians”). Theological and liturgical changes were instituted such as
deleting the Old Testament as too Jewish and including pledging loyalty to the
state at part of worship. Though many pastors and churches fell into line, plenty
of people muddled along with the routine of Sunday worship as they always had
without protest. Those who did object openly became the Confessing Church as an
alternative for those who opposed the German Christians.
Breaking with
the government authorized church was a major and traumatic step for the
Confessing Church. The break came when the German Christians began to enforce “the
Aryan Clause,” which prohibited any who were not considered racially pure
(especially those who had any Jewish ancestry) from holding any church
leadership positions. The Theological
Declaration of Barmen was issued in response in 1934, which became the
rallying point and identifier of the Confessing Church with its confessional
language.
The complete
text of the
Theological Declaration of
Barmen is available from a number of websites such as this one.
http://www.sacred-texts.com/chr/barmen.htm
It is short enough to read at a sitting and profound enough to ponder for a
lifetime. I want to highlight a few lines that I believe speak to my concerns
for Christian unity.
“Do
not listen to the seducers who pervert our intentions, as if we wanted to break
up the unity of the German Evangelical Church or to forsake the Confession of
the Fathers!” (8.03) “If you find that we are taking our stand upon Scripture,
then let no fear or temptation keep you from treading with us the path of faith
and obedience to the Word of God, in order that God’s people be of one mind
upon the earth.” (8.04)
The Confessing
Church was accused of not only disrupting the unity of the Church, but also the
nation, tantamount to treason. So early in the Barmen Declaration, they
affirmed their commitment to the Church’s unity in Christ. In language
reminiscent of Luther at Worms, they invoked Scripture as the basis for their
dissent from the German Christians. But this greatly stressed the experience of
cooperation and identification with the national church they had known for
generations. They were determined not to become labeled as Anabaptists who had
eschewed the state-church partnership as unholy. Perhaps an Anabaptist voice
could have helped them with this wrestling as they had worked on it for
centuries, but that would almost certainly have doomed the Confessing Church
from the start. It would have been a step too far for the Lutheran and Reformed
Churches of Germany.
I obviously
identify with the Confessing Church in both its stance confronting the German
Christians and the Nazi government and with the depth of their struggle with
their commitment to Christian unity. I am especially agonizing over how to “maintain
the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” with those who exclude me
because I cannot share their expressed loyalty to national and church leaders
whose articulation of Christian responsibility is so contrary to how I have
become fully convinced I must follow Jesus. I am not prepared to question the
authenticity or sincerity of the faith of these folk, but sense our unity in
Christ is seriously threatened.
Following are
the specific theological statements of the Barmen Declaration. They made a
point of casting these as theological assertions and refrained from making a
list of individual objections. By doing that they avoided getting mired in
petty debates over details. These affirmations may seem self-evident, but they
shook the churches of Germany to the core and unsettled the government so
deeply that some who made this confession paid with their lives. They purposely
spoke to the foundation of Christian discipleship that continues to serve us
today.
“We
reject the false doctrine, as though there were areas of our life in which we
would not belong to Jesus Christ, but to other lords – areas in which we would
not need justification and sanctification through him.” (8.15)
“We reject the false doctrine, as though the
Church were permitted to abandon the form of its message and order to its own
pleasure or to changes in prevailing ideological and political convictions.”
(8.18)
We
reject the false doctrine, as though the Church, over and beyond its special
commission, should and could appropriate the characteristics, the tasks, and
the dignity of the State, thus itself becoming an organ of the State.” (8.24)
Once again, let
me be completely clear, I am definitively not engaging in any discussion one
way or another about whether or not the current political climate in the US is
akin to the ascendancy of the Nazis to power in Germany. My interest is in
learning from the Confessing Church how to “maintain the unity of the Spirit in
the bond of peace” when threats of schism seem to me to be bringing the
Church in the US to a time a great testing. To be sure, no list of steps for
escaping the test or preventing the schism emerges.
While most of
those who identified with the Confessing Church have faded into obscurity, the faithfulness of some was witnessed and passed on to our generation generally in
the form of correspondence and church documents. A few left a written legacy of
memoirs and theological writings. I deeply appreciate that they were
transparent about their wrestling without coming to a clear consensus. If these
folk who struggled (whom I and many others of our present generation consider
heroic giants), who am I to think I have the wherewithal to come to definitive,
convincing conclusions about what is, so far at least, much less intense
testing than they experienced? I take them as examples and encouragement for
persisting in faithfulness in the face of ambiguity and confusion. I resonate
with them as partners in grieving the chasm opening in the Church. I join them
in praying with Jesus that we might not be led into a time of trial, all the
while trusting that Christ’s grace is sufficient for whatever lies ahead.
Jesus’ harsh words
in Luke 11:47-48 remind us that most of the Hebrew prophets were not
appreciated in their own generation. “You build the tombs of the prophets whom
your ancestors killed. So you are witnesses and approve of the deeds of
your ancestors; for they killed them, and you build their tombs.” Only after
they were long buried were they honored, and even then not necessarily heeded.
So here we are eighty some years later, and no one is reading the writings from
the German Christians except as a scholarly counterpoint to better understand
the Confessing Church. And yes, we still read not just the Theological
Declaration of Barmen but a large body of theological, pastoral, and personal
writing that emerged from the crucible the Confessing Church endured. Even
though some of them did not survive it, their writing and witness has. I have
no illusions that any audience will be reading my writing in a future
generation, but I take encouragement from the Confessing Church that those
writing of our struggles in this time of testing will be read for generations
to come.
Though we may
regard the courageous voices from the Confessing Church as heroes, they were broken
people, as are we who struggle in our own time. Just a bit of biblical prologue
to my observations. God seems to have had a great propensity for working
through deeply flawed people. That doesn’t excuse any malfeasance but only
highlights the wonder of God’s grace. Just rehearse in your own memory the faltering
of these characters: Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Samson, David, Peter, Paul. Their
grievous failings do not invalidate what God brought to us through them.
This principle
is a difficult challenge as we move into our own time. Though the Theological
Declaration of Barmen was the shared work of a group of leaders of what became
the Confessing Church, Karl Barth was the primary amanuensis. He is known to
have had a decades long adulterous affair with his personal assistant. Does or
should that invalidate Barmen or any of his other work? John Howard Yoder was a
recognized university and seminary professor and arguably the most notable
Anabaptist theologian of the 20th century. Particularly after his
death, his persistent sexually predatory history with female students has
tarnished his reputation, undermining the credibility of his work. Though I and
others have appreciated their work, a shadow is cast over it that calls for
great discernment and for me would preclude positions of Church leadership. I
myself have witnessed the collapse of marriages, families, and ministries
brought on by the sexual misconduct of clergy colleagues, some of whom I
consider as friends.
In the current
public arena, the reputations of Donald Trump and Bill Clinton as sexual
predators have been bandied about as weapons of political attack. Without
getting sidetracked too much, I want to be clear that I consider their
treatment of women and lack of sexual discipline equally reprehensible and
regard both of them as unsuitable to be trusted with public office. To me,
those who do not honor their marriage vows, cannot be expected to honor their
oaths of office. I also want to be clear that I am all too aware of my own
vulnerabilities and am dependent on the prayerful vigilance with which I must
seek and welcome the strength of the Spirit and accountability of the community
of faith.
Though this may
seem to be an unrelated excurses, I am concerned that integrity is essential to
enduring the testing that I think this current divisiveness in the Church is
bringing upon us. Already accusations of various kinds are being hurled across
the chasm to discredit voices on both sides. My recommendations for responding
to this are paradoxical. Don’t dismiss out of hand the input of someone,
especially someone you disagree with, just because of their character flaws
without considering the merits of their ideas. Also, don’t dismiss out of hand
criticism of the character flaws of someone you do agree with. Furthermore,
recognize that moral failure undermines the credibility of the advocates for
any proposition, so do everything you can to encourage ethical integrity among
your colleagues. A momentary human failing when responded to with fruit worthy
of repentance (Matthew 3:8; Luke 3:8) while serious, is quite different than
persistent patterns responded to with dismissive rationalization. Most of all,
guard your own soul with scripture, prayer, and accountability in community.
Finally, remember that sex is not the only area of moral vulnerability; money
and power are also alluring traps, and they are often mingled together.
I am inclined
to think that one of the reasons the division and fragmentation in our society
has brought the unity of the Church under siege is that the political
categories and labels in the country have invaded and infected the Church.
Rather than defining ourselves in terms of Jesus’ concerns, we have let the
culture define us. I do not think of myself as politically or even
theologically liberal/progressive or conservative/evangelical (especially in
recent years as evangelical has been redefined as a voting block to be
manipulated rather than as the bearers of the good news (gospel) of Jesus). In
some self-identified liberal/progressive circles I get labeled as
conservative/evangelical because of the centrality of scripture as inspired,
reliable, and authoritative for me. In some self-identified
conservative/evangelical circles I get labeled as liberal/progressive because
for me following Jesus’ mandate means love and justice for the poor, the weak,
the outsiders, etc. My commitment to scripture and to following Jesus in love
and justice are not only inseparable, they are identical.
Taking a cue
from Benedict, I have an established “rule” that has developed and continued to
be shaped through my adult life, so I’ve got a half-century invested in this. I
outline it here with some reticence because I do not see it as some great pious
achievement, nor do I want others to view me as either a model or as
self-righteous. Rather, I see it as necessary protection from my
vulnerabilities and nourishment of my journey with Jesus. Also, this is “my rule”
and not something I would impose on anyone else. What it boils down to is that
if I expect to follow Jesus every day, I better take a good look at him every
day and pay close attention. Since I have predicated so much of what I have
written here on my intention to follow Jesus, I thought explaining how I
discern how to follow Jesus to be important, recognizing the risk of Jesus’
warning about practicing one’s piety to be seen by others. (Matthew 6:1-18)
This means I start
with a priority on soaking in the New Testament Gospels and observing Jesus’
relationships with people. How did he treat them? What did he tell them? How
did they respond to him? I do that with the process known as lectio divina on the Gospel passage from
the Revised Common Lectionary specified for reading in worship for the coming
Sunday. I repeat that with the same passage every day for the whole week. Over
the years I have been amazed that rather than becoming routine or boring, the
depth of insights grows from day to day. I compliment this with the lectio divina process on the selections
from the Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament) and the New Testament Epistles. This
helps keep a balanced spiritual diet, but Jesus in the Gospels is the
interpretive lens for these other passages.
My daily
encounters with scripture are not simply about accumulating biblical
information or aphorisms to prove some point or other. I find the metaphor that
Henri Nouwen shared with me to be satisfying. Daily meditation on scripture is
like a cow chewing her cud to extract all of the nutrition possible so all
those spiritual amino acids are incorporated into every cell of my being. Or
perhaps as Abba Poemen said in the 4th or 5th century. “The
nature of water is soft, that of stone is hard; but if a bottle is hung above
the stone, allowing the water to fall drop by drop, it wears away the stone. So
if is with the word of God; it is soft and our heart is hard, but the [one] who
hears the word of God often, opens his [her] heart to the fear of God.” I have
expressed my aspiration to be shaped in Christlikeness in my personal mission
statement: My intent is to live in such continuous awareness of the presence of
God that my heart and character are in increasingly congruent harmony with
Jesus Christ.
My prayer
routine is to read through one of fifteen prayers from the New Testament
Epistles and five Psalms each day. That means I cover all 150 Psalms each month
and get through the Epistle prayers twice each month. For me this is not a
matter of praying the words on the pages, but letting these prayers prompt me
to have conversations with God about things that seem to be of concern to both
of us. More often than not, the biblical prayer suggests things to talk over
with God that I would not have thought of on my own. I am approaching 600 times
through the Psalms in this way. Sure, I have gotten familiar with them, but
when juxtaposed with the ever changing rhythms of current events and my
personal life, they have never gone stale. It’s not a matter of every line
every day, but a purposeful sensitivity to the Holy Spirit to be drawn into
listening for God more than telling God.
Several times a
week I take twenty minutes for centering prayer. I seek to come into God
presence with an attitude of availability and anticipation. I sit in silence,
usually with a lit candle to remind me of God’s presence (check out how often
scripture makes fire a sign of God’s presence). As distractions or anxieties
intrude, I gently release them to God. Without an agenda of my own, I am open
to how the Spirit brings something from the reservoir of accumulated scripture to
the surface that addresses either a concern I had or prompts me to consider
something that hadn’t occurred to me previously.
For the past
twenty-five years I have had a relationship with a personal spiritual director
most of the time. (During my season of serving as an interim pastor, this
wasn’t quite as practical as when I was more settled.) The role of a spiritual
director is not to “direct” my spiritual life but to direct my attention to God
and help me identify how God is involved in and shaping my life and
relationship with Jesus. An important dimension of these relationships has been
a level of trust that fosters accountability. They have been people who I knew would
confront me if they perceived I was wandering off the path with Jesus.
Though the
siege on the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace affects the whole
Church in the US, I have purposely written in a personal voice. I know it is
neither my responsibility nor in my power to bring about Christian unity. But I
do commit myself to attempt to address the concerns with love and respect
toward those who disagree with me, regardless of how they respond to my
perspective. I resonate with this quote that has been attributed to the Talmud (Shapiro, Wisdom of the
Sages, 41. Paraphrase of Rabbi Rami Shapiro’s interpretive translation of
Rabbi Tarfon’s work on the Pirle Avpot 2:30.
The text is commentary of Micah 6:8.) which is clearly a
reflection on Micah 6:8. “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s
grief. Do justly now. Love mercy now. Walk humbly now. You are not obligated to
complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.”
If I am
following Jesus when he says to love my enemies (Matthew 5:43-48; Luke 6:27-35
which is affirmed by Paul in Romans 12:17-21), I must love those who disagree
with me so vehemently that they consider me not only their enemy but the
country’s enemy or the Church’s enemy, or even God’s enemy. I am called to this
with no expectation of reciprocity of kindness. Such love is not a glib cliché.
It calls for challenging self-discipline to restrain my tongue, which is only
possible with the power of the Holy Spirit. It calls for refraining from
gossip, rumors, and slander of those who speak ill of me and others in my circle.
It calls for welcoming those who claim Christ as their own as my spiritual
kindred, even if they expel me from the community. Though my focus here is on
the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace in the Church, following Jesus’
lead means welcoming all people with love whether they identify with him or
not, even those who would consider themselves my sworn enemies. I make no claim
of being able to heed these calls. They are challenging and costly. Without
wanting to sound unduly pious, I must depend on the Holy Spirit for the
necessary strength and discernment. I must fill my heart with the words of
scripture and the presence of Jesus, so that in the moment of pressure what
overflows from the abundance of my heart is the love of Jesus and not my fear
or anger. (Matthew 12:34: Luke 6:45) So far as it depends on me, I aspire
to live peaceably with all. (Romans 12:18) O Father in Heaven, deliver us from
our time of testing and trial!
