Responses that take more than 140 characters…
Posted by Carol Howard Merritt on 10 Oct 2009 at 01:38 pm | Tagged as: church, community, progressive christianity, publishing, religion, social justice, spirituality
So those of you who follow Bruce Reyes-Chow, the Presbyterian Moderator, on Twitter, know that he has been talking about certain conferences, and prodding us, wondering about our Mainline interest or disinterest in them.
And those of you who follow both of us know that I have been rather old-school, angry, and vehement in my responses to such conferences. (Old-school, meaning I’ve been taking a black-and-white, us-versus-them, my-way-or-the-highway approach.)
It actually kind of shocked me. I have a lot of opinions–there’s no doubt about that–but usually I can appreciate the viewpoints of Evangelical colleagues, even though I think that they’re wrong about many things. I have learned to embrace my heritage, as something that is an important part of me. If I hate it, then I hate myself. (Of course, there’s a fine line here. I do hate the sin that was inherent in my Evangelical formation, and confess it, and change….)
But, for some reason, my reaction to the Catalyst Conferences overwhelmed me. And I wondered why that was.
Was it jealousy? There are as many Mainliners as there are Evangelicals (and I realize that there is a lot of cross-over in terms here), but Evangelicals almost completely drive the religious book market, the religious media, and politics, because of the fantastic ability that Evangelicals have to organize huge events, and to find unity in vital causes. Authors and musicians who get invited to these sorts of conferences do really, really well. I was warned constantly when I wrote Tribal Church to make it an Evangelical book, or it would never sell.
But, I don’t think jealousy was fueling my frustration. I think the main character in the driver’s seat was fear. As you can see from the line-up, there were very few women involved in The Nines, and (I think) only one ordained woman. I’m afraid of going backwards. It’s irrational, I know. But the fear and anger are still there.
It was very difficult growing up in a religious tradition that saw me as sinful because of my growing call into ordained ministry. It was painful watching many of the women in my family, who had the same calling, not be able to pursue theirs. It’s difficult to think of all the Bible school students in my “message preparation for women course” (we were not allowed to call it preaching), where I heard some of the best sermons in my life, who pursued their M-R-S in the hopes of being a pastor’s wife, because that was the very closest that they could come to being a pastor themselves.
I understand the religious viewpoint that women should not be ordained. I know that an Evangelical conference will have a handful of women, and we should not expect more that that. But I also understand the deep sorrow and frustration that church can cause from the sexism that bleeds from generation to generation. And when I’m faced with it, then I bark, in anger and pain, as if I’m facing a dog that previously bit me.
The denominational church, even with all of the ordination difficulties, even with its less-than-flashy conferences, and its inability to unite across denominational lines to become a stronger voice in publishing and politics, has been an unbelievable font of grace for me. Welcoming my gifts, encouraging them, and allowing a place for them to flourish. And even though there have been bumps along the way, there is a way for someone like me. And I am filled with overwhelming gratitude to be a part of it.
I left the Evangelical Church, because the Mainline church—with its strong commitment to social justice, gender equality, spiritual disciplines, and intergenerational community—seemed much more relevant. And yet, now that I’m inside, I find many Mainliners wishing that we were like Evangelicals, so that we might gain relevancy.
I just wish we, the Mainliners, could see what gifts we have, celebrate them, and I guess along the way… I wish that we could learn to organize a little better.
Let me just add–and all 9 of them were white!
I know we can learn from each other, but perhaps one of the first things we could teach them is the importance of representation!
Yeah… not seeing much color here. Although do you find that Mainliners much better? Methodist conferences are pretty diverse… but It seems like we all have room to grow on that front.
At least in the PCUSA, we are GA-mandated to think about representation. (I know. I get called a lot…LOL)
It’s hard to translate the evangelical drive to save souls into our mainline terms. If that fervor feeds conferences, book sales, CD sales, what do we have to feed ours?
I am reading “The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind” by Mark Noll, who is an evangelical. As someone who grew up in a relatively liberal main-line church, where being politicaly liberal was synonomous with being Christian, I have a hard time comprehending the evangelical world. This book has been helpful to me, and I recommend it.
I don’t think that the mainline will find the same mojo as the evangelicals because we are basically winning the culture war. Yes, there are issues here and there, but somehow the wages of tomato pickers just isn’t as urgent and universal as the role of women in families. To get people excited about progressive Christianity we have to first educate people about the ills of society. Thats complicated and difficult.
I obviously can’t speak for more than myself, but as a Mainliner who still considers himself Evangelical, there are very definitively aspects of “Evangelical” that I do not wish to claim. Advocating for the full inclusion of women in all forms of church ministry is one of those issues I’m not going to budge on.
(Of course, I suppose that whether or not Evangelicals would claim me is an open question….)
Mark~
We will always claim you.
Thank you, Carol.
Brian,
Now to see about my CPM….
I know I’ve wanted to attend Catalyst the three years I’ve been serving in a Methodist Church but have never been able to attend because of
1. Schedule, bad time of year for me with so much going on this month…like getting ready for our Charge Conference!
2. Money, already exhausting my funds traveling to Annual Conference, and other UMC events, and
3. Time, already away from my church to attend all of my regular denominational meetings!
If I were some sort of independent / non-denominational pastor I wonder if I would face those same three challenges or if I’d be there this year?
I did not grow up Evangelical but I do see some value in what they do, although I find many of their methods to be offensive. I guess I don’t attend Catalyst for several reasons
One reason is money, as they tend to cost a lot more than I can afford. My gender is another issue. I attend ecumenical things in our community where I am already fighting the notion that females can be pastors that I don’t want to pay to attend a conference and have to fight that just doesn’t sit well with me. Part of me also doesn’t attend them, because I haven’t had friends come back from the conference really excited (or attend one at all). So I tend to stick with things that I know will be good and I will enjoy rather than brave something new that I might not like or regret spending my money on.
I appreciate Carol’s candor, considering her own personal history, about conferences like these. But the global evangelical tradition, is still complex and multifaceted, no? Sure some elements like these leadership conferences feel overstylized or gimmicky, and certainly the cloistered thinking that comes from too many people sharing the similar social location is deeply problematic, but despite these things I believe evangelicalism has brought the larger Body some theological, devotional and missiological treasures.
That being said, as an African American Christian, I’m increasingly aware of how marginalized ethnic minority perspectives can be in both the mainline and evangelical traditions and I believe we are still looking for full recognition of our views by them. Mainliners may have us represented in leadership more, but there is a theological and missional depth and breadth of our religious heritage that often must be cast aside in order to submit to denominational politics or placate the majority perspective. Our views do not easily fit in one or the other category of traditions because we don’t typically draw the lines (or necessarily care to).
Carol mentions social justice, gender equality, intergenerational community and spiritual disciplines. These are also reasons why I joined the mainline tradition, but that’s not to say some evangelicals don’t have alot to teach us about how these concerns can be addressed in distinctive ways. Yes, we mainliners have gifts in these areas but let’s not confuse gifts with some of our habits mainliners have gained born of the societal privileges we have enjoyed for the last few generations. Sometimes the habits can hide the real gifts.
Carol writes: “I just wish we, the Mainliners, could see what gifts we have, celebrate them, and I guess along the way… I wish that we could learn to organize a little better.” Thanks so much for writing this post. Mainline traditions have been such gifts to those coming from certain Evangelical backgrounds (including myself), and there is such a high number of Evangelicals hungry for a more progressive approach to faith if only they have the chance to know about it. It saddens me that so many Evangelicals drop out of church as a whole because they don’t know that other options are available. For all of the goofy structural problems we Mainliners have, we also carry beautiful and liberating theological approaches, if only we would embrace them! How I wish Mainliners would dig deeply within these traditions and view them as a major strength as opposed to trying to connect with young adults by singing lame music from the 80s coupled with a circa-1994 PowerPoint presentation.
Hey Carol, I confess to the same jealousy of Catalyst. I thought of going and decided against it because it’s just such a huge crowd, I wondered how one could meet anyone. But it’s the tech savvy that I envy. I’ve been in so many mainline churches where we can’t get the powerpoint to work, or the mics cut out or whatever, and the demand for excellence in technology in many evangelical circles cuts down on some of that. If you’re going to use it use it well, and they certainly do (I should say I still claim a sort of dual identity, having come from evangelicals and still mostly being one, but ordained Methodist).