by Steve | Dec 30, 2019 | In the News, Perspective E-Newsletter
Screen shot from “Love Actually”.
By Steve Beard –
There is a grand Christmas tradition at our house on the evening of December 25: separating the crumpled wrapping paper from the bows that can be reused next year. For many families, Christmas Day signals the winding down of the holiday. Soon the decorations will be packed away and the Christmas tree will be at the curb.
For many Christians around the world, however, the Christmas season only begins on December 25 and is observed over the next 12 days until Epiphany (January 6) – marking the visit of the Magi to the Christ child and the revelation of God becoming flesh.
Remember the song “The 12 Days of Christmas,” with its Turtle Doves, French Hens, Swans-a-Swimming, and Pipers Piping? There are all kinds of theories about the song’s origin, including it being used as a catechism tool to teach theology. Among the Geese-a-Laying and the Maids-a-Milking, there was supposed to be a symbolic spiritual message generations ago.
In our modern era, the quirky British comedy Love Actually inevitably shows up on television at Christmas time. One of the more memorable scenes is when Daisy (Lulu Popplewell) proudly tells her mother Karen (Emma Thompson) about her role in the Christmas play at school.
Daisy: I’m the lobster.
Karen: The lobster?
Daisy: Yeah.
Karen: In the nativity play?
Daisy: Yeah, “first” lobster.
Karen: There was more than one lobster present at the birth of Jesus?
Daisy: Duh!
The nativity play ends up being the climactic conclusion to the film. Not only is the lobster on stage, but she is joined by an octopus, a few penguins, Spiderman, and an assortment of other peculiar creatures.
That scene came to mind several years ago while I was visiting the set of The Nativity Story — a charming film about the birth of Christ. As we were checking out the cave-like location in Matera, Italy, for the manger scene, a five-foot black snake slithered through as though he owned the place.
As alarming as it seemed, it should not have been terribly shocking. Matera is an ancient city known for its neighborhoods that are literally carved out of rock. It is an ideal home for slinky, slithering, and creepy animals of all varieties – perhaps a little like Bethlehem.
Like a lobster (or Spiderman), a snake is an unlikely character for a nativity scene. Nevertheless, its appearance seemed strangely fitting to the incarnational reality of Christmas. After all, at the precipice of hope and redemption, evil lingers and looks for a way to corrupt. Sometimes we lose sight of that reality when we watch our cute Christmas pageants with shepherds wearing bathrobes, the Three Wisemen draped in silk kimonos, and the Virgin Mary lugging around a vintage Cabbage Patch doll.
In reality, it is difficult to downplay the seemingly raw scandal involved with the birth of Christ; but somehow we have managed. Perhaps we have anesthetized the story’s sting since it took place long ago and far away.
At Christmas, we properly celebrate the birth of Jesus. What we don’t dwell on is the horror that surrounds it. No matter how elaborate our nativity scenes may be, they seem to have the antiseptic cleanliness of the crosses that we wear as necklaces. Just like you don’t see blood stains on sterling silver jewelry, you don’t really get a sense of how Christmas may have been anxiety-ridden, unsanitized, and vile – a little like real life.
We don’t often think about Herod ordering the infanticide of all little boys 2 years old and under after the Magi asked him about Jesus. With the slaughter of the innocent, Christmas ends up as gruesome as Good Friday.
We don’t often think about Joseph’s dilemma in discovering that his fiancée was pregnant. Would he divorce her? According to the law of that day, he would have been within his rights.
We don’t often think about a frightened, unmarried teenage girl who has been told she will carry the son of God in her belly. How could she explain that to her family and friends – let alone to the man to whom she pledged her faithfulness?
We don’t often think about an elderly religious man telling the teenage Mary, “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too” (Luke 2:34-35). Whoa. That’s a pretty heavy gothic trip for a young girl.
Holidays don’t suspend dark clouds. Not even Christmas can cancel out the tragedies and hardships of everyday life. Car accidents. Family disputes. Medical emergencies. Bad news slithers on despite the holidays.
Christianity does not pretend that hardships will not occur. All around the globe, believers face horrible circumstances and perilous persecution. “Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,” said Jesus, “for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10).
Faith, hope, and love are the pivotal factors that sustain and strengthen in the darkest of seasons. Most importantly, we depend upon God’s abiding presence. “I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love,” wrote St. Paul. “Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow — not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love” (Romans 8:38, NLT).
Go ahead, sing “The 12 Days of Christmas” with gusto. Feel free to chuckle about the oddly-placed lobster and octopus and penguins and Spiderman in the nativity scene. But don’t dismiss the snake in the cave as a joke. At Christmas, the historic Book of Common Prayer intones: “Almighty God, you have poured upon us the new light of your incarnate Word: Grant that this light, enkindled in our hearts, may shine forth in our lives; through Jesus Christ our Lord….”
Even though a snake may slither through the manger, Christmas remains the only light sparked in a cave that can illuminate the human soul and bring peace in the midst of chaos.
Steve Beard is the editor of Good News.
by Steve | Dec 23, 2019 | In the News, Perspective E-Newsletter
By Steve Beard –
For more than 150 years, The Salvation Army has been the most consistent, creative, and trustworthy symbol for a warm hearted faith and a generous helping hand for those in need. With a legacy of rushing into where the need is greatest, it has earned a coveted reputation for integrity and compassion without prejudice or discrimination as both a Christian church and an excellent charity.
Although it is most well-known for its Red Kettle campaign at Christmas, the Wesleyan-oriented ministry works year-round to alleviate human suffering and offer hope.
Having served survivors of every major national disaster since 1900, its industriousness is a powerful testimony for its purpose and passion. The Salvation Army annually helps more than 20 million Americans fight poverty, addiction, and economic difficulties through a variety of outreaches. Through emergency relief in disaster situations, rehab work with those battling drug and alcohol abuse, providing food for the hungry, and clothing and shelter for people in need, The Salvation Army operates from 7,600 centers around the United States. It is simply indispensable.
The Salvation Army was launched in Victorian London by William and Catherine Booth, a powerhouse Christian couple who were overwhelmed and horrified by the conditions of the poorest of the poor – the “submerged tenth” – who had virtually no escape from the clutches of misery and poverty. Booth’s spirited response was, “Go for souls and go for the worst!”
He was passionate about reaching the people the established church had overlooked or ignored. “While women weep, as they do now, I’ll fight,” Booth proclaimed. “While little children go hungry, I’ll fight; while men go to prison, in and out, in and out, as they do now, I’ll fight – while there is a drunkard left, while there is a poor lost girl upon the streets, where there remains one dark soul without the light of God – I’ll fight! I’ll fight to the very end!”
Today, The Salvation Army – complete with its iconic uniforms and brass bands – operates in 131 nations of the world. The first Salvationist preacher George Scott Railton and a troop of “Hallelujah lassies,” as they were called in those days, arrived in New York in 1880. “Salvationists marched up the avenues and down the boulevards – even raiding brothels, saloons, and dance halls – in pursuit of lost souls. Their ‘Cathedral of the Open Air,’ a figurative canopy spread over the city, turned all of New York into sanctified ground,” writes Diane Winston in Red-Hot & Righteous: The Urban Religion of The Salvation Army (Harvard).
Winston reports that the early Salvationists “sent out ice carts in summer, coal wagons in winter, and salvage crews all year round. They established soup kitchens, rescue homes, employment bureaus, hospitals, shelters, and thrift shops.” Their work was tireless consequential.
The Salvation Army crowd-gathering techniques were as effective as their innovative social services for the down-and-outers. “In the early days their brass instruments, jingling tambourines, and resonant bass drums clamored over the din of horse-drawn carriages and noisy peddlers,” reports Winston. “Their testimonies, shouted from street corners, captured the curious and noisy peddlers. Their renditions of popular tunes – ‘Swanee River’ or ‘Tramp, Tramp, Tramp’ rewritten as hymns – roused critics to decry such blasphemous strategems.”
The trailblazing methods – loud music, dancing, posters resembling P. T. Barnum’s advertisements – were not welcomed by respectable religious observers, nor by those outside the fold who were annoyed by their message about a transformed life. The Salvationists were attacked in print and sometimes physically assaulted for their public preaching and worship services.
“A more motely, vice-smitten, pestilence-breeding, congregation could seldom be found in a house of worship,” wrote one reporter from the New York Herald. “There were Negroes, dancing girls, prostitutes, and station house tramps sandwiched between well-dressed visitors who had sauntered in out of curiosity. The floors were as clean as a deck of a man-of-war, but in a few minutes they were frescoed with tobacco juice, the stench became overpowering, and a yellow-fever pest-house could not have been less attractive.”
Throughout its colorful history, the public mockery and vicious assaults were never been able to dim the bright light projected from The Salvation Army. “Whether parading in the streets, singing in the saloons, or appearing on the city’s stages, the Army used the venues and forms of the contemporary culture to promote an alternate, even subversive message,” writes Winston. Booth never wanted to surrender one square inch of life or culture to his spiritual enemy. “Why should the devil have all the dancing?” he asked. “You must sing good tunes … I don’t care much whether you call it secular or sacred. I rather enjoy robbing the devil of his choicest tunes, and, after his subjects themselves, music is about the best commodity he possesses,” he concluded. “It is like taking the enemy’s guns and turning them against him.”
It’s a provocative countercultural message – similar to the Red Kettle in front of a department store at Christmas time. Yes, enjoy Christmas, Booth might say, but please don’t forget the less fortunate. The kettle was first utilized in San Francisco in 1891 when Joseph McFee wanted to raise funds for a free Christmas dinner for the poor. He borrowed a large crab pot and hung it from a tripod on a busy street. With a sign that read, “Fill the Pot for the Poor – Free Dinner on Christmas Day,” he was able to collect enough spare change to feed more than 1,000 hungry men, women, and children.
That’s the creative spirit and spiritual legacy of The Salvation Army.
Steve Beard is the editor of Good News. This editorial first appeared in 2019.
by Steve | Dec 20, 2019 | In the News, Perspective E-Newsletter
Christmas Carolers in front of the Bay Center, downtown Victoria. Photo by James Abbott.
By Tom Lambrecht –
One of the popular activities during the Christmas season is to sing Christmas carols. As a musician myself, I find that music moves me in a deeper way than many other forms of expression.
When it comes to Christmas carols, however, sometimes the familiarity of the songs allows us to gloss over the impact of the words they contain. We sing by rote through the music and miss the impact of the message. Here are a few significant lyrics that have the potential to take us deeper into the Christmas event.
“Now ye hear of endless bliss; Jesus Christ was born for this! / He hath opened heaven’s door, And man is blessed evermore. / Now ye need not fear the grave; Jesus Christ was born to save! / Calls you one and calls you all, To gain His everlasting hall.”
(“Good Christian Men, Rejoice”)
The point of Christmas was not to create a beautiful tableau that could be reproduced year after year in the Sunday school program. No, Jesus came to save us, to deliver us from the fear of death, to “fit us for heaven to live with [him] there” (“Away in a Manger”). Have you responded to his “call” on your life?
“Come, Desire of Nations, come, Fix in us Thy humble home. / Veiled in flesh the Godhead see; Hail th’Incarnate Deity, / Pleased as man with men to dwell; Jesus, our Immanuel!”
(“Hark! The Herald Angels Sing”)
God himself came to earth “veiled in flesh.” He lived with us in human form. More importantly, though, he wants to live in us, to fix his home in our souls. Have we opened our lives to his indwelling presence?
“No more let sins and sorrows grow, Nor thorns infest the ground. / He comes to make His blessings flow Far as the curse is found.”
(“Joy to the World”)
In Genesis 3 we read about the curse upon humanity and the earth itself because of sin: “Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return” (Genesis 3:18-19).
Nearly every day we experience the results of the curse of sin. Our lives and world are broken. But God sent Jesus into the world to roll back the curse, wherever it manifests itself. Every act of healing, every moment of mercy and understanding, every sin or offense forgiven is a rolling back of the curse. Someday, we will rise from the dead in the ultimate victory over the curse of death. Finally, we look forward to the New Heaven and the New Earth, where “no longer will there be any curse” (Revelation 22:3).
“How silently, how silently The wondrous gift is given! / So God imparts to human hearts The blessings of His heaven. / No ear may hear His coming, But in this world of sin, /Where meek souls will receive Him, still The dear Christ enters in. / O holy Child of Bethlehem, Descend to us, we pray; Cast out our sin and enter in, Be born in us today…O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Immanuel.”
(“O Little Town of Bethlehem”)
The essential meaning and significance of Christmas is that Jesus came into the world for you and for me. He came for each individual who would ever be born. Until his birth is personal for us, it has not achieved its purpose. The songwriters plead with us to open our heart and soul meekly, submissively to Jesus, so that he may “cast out our sin” and live within us, now and for eternity.
“There’s a tumult of joy O’er the wonderful birth, For the Virgin’s sweet Boy is the Lord of the earth. / Ay! The star rains its fire while the beautiful sing, For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King! / In the light of that star Lie the ages impearled; And that song from afar Has swept over the world. / Every hearth is aflame, and the beautiful sing In the homes of the nations that Jesus is King!”
(“There’s a Song in the Air”)
The supreme contradiction of Christmas is that this weak, vulnerable newborn is in fact “the Lord of the earth.” Hidden in the mystery of Christmas is the matchless power of God. It is a power so great that, through the life of this one baby, God transformed all of human history. We even date our calendars according to the year of his birth! Jesus is a world transformer. He is ruler of all the nations - or he will be one day, when the world is set right again.
“What child is this, who, laid to rest on Mary’s lap, is sleeping?” / “Shepherds why this jubilee? Why these songs of happy cheer? / What great brightness did you see? What glad tidings did you hear?”
(“Angels We Have Heard on High”)
Christmas carols love to use questions to draw us in. We need to answer the questions for ourselves. It is the same question that Jesus asked his disciples: “Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15). Who is this child to us? How is our life different because we know him?
May you experience the joy and deep peace of Christ living in you this Christmas. May his blessings flow in ways that overcome sin’s curse in your life in the year to come. And may we together look forward to all that God has in store for us in heaven and on the new earth!
Thomas Lambrecht is a United Methodist clergyperson and the vice president of Good News.
by Steve | Dec 16, 2019 | In the News, Perspective E-Newsletter
By Tom Lambrecht –
It is fitting that we take the month before Christmas (the church season of Advent) as a time of waiting. Historically, the church calendar teaches us to eagerly await the celebration of Christmas and all the joys and excitement we experience during that time.
With that spirit of anticipation, we eagerly await the future that God has in store for The United Methodist Church. We long for a time when the battles over theology and moral standards in the church have come to an end. We long for a return to a whole-hearted focus on making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world, undistracted by incompatible visions for what constitutes discipleship or transformation. We long for a time when we can take it for granted that our bishops and clergy share the deep theological commitments outlined in our church’s doctrinal standards. We long for a rebuilding of trust that allows us to enthusiastically support the directions set by our leaders, confident that they are not pursuing an agenda contrary to the Word of God or our church’s stated policies.
We hope for a time when the focus is not on acts of “resistance” or “ecclesiastical disobedience” but on recognizing and respecting the church’s authority as disciples of Christ and followers of the Scriptures. We long for the church’s agenda to be set by the teachings of Scripture and the commandments of Jesus, not by the latest theological fad or the political machinations of a rudderless world. We long for bishops who winsomely, boldly, and clearly proclaim the Word of God and defend the church’s doctrines against the challenges of an unbelieving world, rather than attacking the church’s faith and questioning the teachings of Scripture. We hope for the church to recover its ability to apply the Christian faith in both word and deed to the needs of a lost world in need of direction and healing.
And so we wait.
The season of Advent teaches us that waiting is part of God’s plan. Even more significant than waiting for the arrival of Christmas, Advent focuses on the reminder that we are waiting for the return of Christ to rule his world in justice, righteousness, and peace. We are conscious of the fact that this world will never measure up to God’s hopes and dreams for it until Christ’s Second Advent (coming). Advent is a reminder that we are caught in the time of the “already, but not yet.” Jesus has already come and brought healing, forgiveness, and restoration of our relationship with God. But we are also conscious that God’s rule on earth has not yet been fully established. We have the down payment or (as the Bible describes it) the “first fruits” of God’s kingdom, but much more is yet to come.
That is how I feel, as we prepare for the 2020 General Conference in Minneapolis. The Wesleyan Covenant Association (WCA) has been envisioning the kind of church we could be in the future, as I described it above. But we are “not yet” in the place to implement that vision. We hope that the General Conference will create a fair and equitable way for the different parts of the church to go their separate ways with love and respect for one another. Such an action would allow us to begin to implement the vision for a revitalized Wesleyan Methodist church. If a pathway for separation is not provided, it is quite possible that the denomination will shatter into many pieces.
It is easy to get impatient while waiting. I hate waiting for anything more than about 15 minutes. (This comes from the fact that my Dad insisted on our family arriving at least 15 minutes early to any engagement. It felt like I spent half my childhood waiting!)
Some have grown impatient waiting for the denominational conflict to be resolved and for the church to return to faithfulness. Some congregations have already withdrawn from the UM Church. Some members have already left their local churches. I sympathize with that impatience. And I know that there are some local circumstances that perhaps made it imperative for a given congregation to leave now, before there is final resolution for our denomination. I do not condemn those who have left.
At the same time, I would encourage those of us who remain to hang in there until after General Conference. After the depth of the conflict was exposed in St. Louis, and the pipe dream of a unity that papered over our differences proved unrealistic, we have the best opportunity yet to finally bring this sad chapter to a close. For the first time, there is a consensus across the theological spectrum that it no longer serves the church well to try to force a unity that is not there. Reluctantly and with sadness, many are realizing that the best hope for a positive future for United Methodism is to allow those with different theological commitments to walk separately in new denominations.
And so we wait.
Biblically, waiting is not a passive time, but a time of preparation. Think of the five wise young women who prepared for the bridegroom’s return by taking extra oil for their lamps (Matthew 25:1-13). The season of Advent invites us to prepare to celebrate Christ’s First Advent and prepare for his Second Advent by cleansing our hearts and re-focusing on our relationship with the Lord.
In the same way, we are preparing for the realization of our hopes and dreams in a new and/or renewed Methodist church. The WCA continues to refine the vision and the structure of what might come next. We continue to work toward a plan of separation that can gain broad approval at General Conference. We will be working with delegates in the U.S. and around the globe to understand the proposals that have been put forward and arrive at a consensus strategy for resolving the church’s conflict.
In local churches, leaders can be talking about what course the congregation might take if there is an opportunity to choose a denomination that aligns with the congregation’s perspective. What choice might your annual conference make? How will that affect your local church? Where does your pastor stand on these issues? The old cliché remains true: If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail. The next six months are a gift of time for local churches to engage in deep theological and ethical conversations without the pressure of having to make an immediate decision. Once General Conference acts to set in place a framework for decision-making, the pressure of needing to make a decision could cause those conversations to become confrontational, rather than helping the congregation arrive at a decision.
If you are clergy, what decision might you make about which new denomination to align with? How are you networking with like-minded colleagues to work together and support each other during this time of uncertainty? How are you leading your congregation to address this situation?
Waiting is hard. We get impatient with the clock or the calendar. We want God to hurry up and move. Part of spiritual maturity and spiritual discipline is learning to wait upon the Lord. Advent is a reminder of that need for holy waiting and holy preparing. Lord, teach us to wait in a spiritually healthy way!
Thomas Lambrecht is a United Methodist clergyperson and the vice president of Good News.
by Steve | Dec 9, 2019 | In the News, Perspective E-Newsletter
By Tom Lambrecht –
The current crisis in The United Methodist Church is often portrayed as a crisis of unity. The unity of our denomination is threatened by deep theological disagreement and the refusal of some parts of the church to abide by the decisions of General Conference and live by our legitimately enacted Book of Discipline.
Some prescribe the remedy for this crisis of unity as a loosening of the boundaries of the church, enlarging the “tent” under which the church exists, so that there is “room for all.” The priority here is maintaining some sort of institutional unity where we can all say we are United Methodist, even though we believe different things and adopt different practices of those beliefs.
Followed to its logical conclusion, this prescription would lead us to wonder just what it means to be “United Methodist.” If one can believe just about anything and practice our faith in diametrically opposite ways, yet still be United Methodist, that identification becomes almost meaningless.
This points us to an underlying issue in our church conflict, which is a crisis of identity. There are sharply different understandings of what it means to be “United Methodist.” The divergence can be summed up in the title of the book, Mainline or Methodist, by the Rev. Dr. Scott Kisker, a professor at United Theological Seminary in Dayton, Ohio. Is our church’s identity better defined as “Mainline Protestant” or “Wesleyan Methodist?”
A recent talk given by retired Bishop Timothy Whitaker traces the evolution of Methodism from its early roots in England and America through its theological liberalization and incorporation into the Protestant mainstream. He maintains, “Our problem is not merely a failure of action, it is also a loss of identity.”
“The defining characteristic of mainline Protestantism is its close relationship with the dominant surrounding culture,” describes Whitaker. “It is so important to mainline Christians to stay close to the dominant culture so that the identity of the Church is shaped more by the surrounding culture than its own tradition.”
We see this born out in the church’s attitude toward the practice of homosexuality. Over the past ten years, there has been a dramatic shift in the U.S. and Western Europe toward acceptance and even affirmation of same-sex relationships. In line with that shift, a major part of the U.S. mainline church has shifted, as well. United Church of Christ, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, Presbyterian Church (USA), and The Episcopal Church have all changed their stances to endorse same-sex relationships as God’s will. A significant percentage of United Methodism in the U.S. and Western Europe has made the same shift. (One can quibble with the assertion that two-thirds of U.S. Methodists support this shift. Certainly, that is true of the annual conference and general church leadership. It is questionable whether that same degree of shift is present at the grass-roots level.)
The vision of special-interest caucuses such as “UMC Next” and “Uniting Methodists” is to be “on the right side of history” and to support the cultural shift toward affirmation. They seem to desire identification as “mainline” and to be in step with the liberal culture of our time and place. They take it for granted that the UM Church should change its position to endorse same-sex marriage and welcome practicing gays and lesbians as ordained clergy. For the sake of church “unity,” they may be willing for a time to put up with those who have not yet made the shift. But traditionalists who hold steadfastly to an “outdated” understanding of morality will not long be welcome.
In sharp contrast to this cultural, “mainline” conception of the church, most traditionalists believe the church ought to be faithful to its Wesleyan Methodist roots. From its very beginning, Methodism was a counter-cultural community within a decadent society. Its strength was its cohesion around that identity in adopting both strictly orthodox theology and high moral standards and practices that set them apart from the culture in which they lived. (Some of those standards and practices make us wince today. Have you read the General Rules lately?)
As Bishop Whitaker points out, this concept of a counter-cultural community dates back to the Exodus, when God called the people of Israel to be set apart for him, different from all the other nations of the world, “a priestly kingdom and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:5-6). For over 3,000 years, the Jewish people have maintained their unique identity as a people set apart, with different standards and different practices. These were not just cultural differences, but born out of obedience to the one true God, who commanded them, “Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy” (Leviticus 19:2).
The New Testament extends this conception of the people of God to the Church. We are incorporated into God’s people through faith in Jesus Christ, as recognized in baptism. “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (I Peter 2:9). Therefore, “just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: ‘Be holy, because I am holy'” (I Peter 1:15-16).
We seek our identity not in adapting to the culture around us, but in remaining as God’s set-apart people, “in the world, but not of it.” Our values and standards are often different from those of the culture in which we live. We proclaim and show by example that the way of Jesus Christ is a better way than the world’s way.
Such an identity as a set-apart people requires boundaries that are enforced. That is all that traditionalists have wanted. As a church, we have determined such and such to be our beliefs and practices. Therefore, we expect all leaders and members to abide by what we have decided.
Some have a problem with boundaries because they do not want to exclude anyone. But doing away with boundaries does away with identity. Where there are no boundaries, there is no clear identity. We become part and parcel of what surrounds us – in this case, the culture in which we live. As biblical scholar and theologian James Dunn puts it, “An identity which does not distinguish from others is no identity; a definition which does not define out as well as define in is no definition. … It is the dynamic within bounds, not entirely free from bounds, which characterizes NT theology as it does all Christian theology worthy of its name” (cited by Michael Bird).
Those promoting the “mainline” view of church are partly doing so because they believe only by adapting to culture will the church successfully attract younger generations and those who do not identify with any religious tradition. The track record of other mainline churches is not promising, as they have continued to dramatically decline after taking a more adaptive approach.
In fact, it was the very stark difference of the primitive church of the first three centuries and the Wesleyan revival in England and America that attracted new adherents. People saw something different about the early Christians and the early Methodists, and it was this difference that proved attractive. Who would sacrifice their time or money or even their lives for the sake of belonging to an organization that merely embodies the culture in which they live? The “set apart” vision of the church offers people a higher purpose for which their sacrifices are worthwhile: to live for God, to embody God’s intention for humanity, to serve the world in love, to invite others into this new life, and to prepare for an eternity with God as his sons and daughters.
These two different visions of church, these two conceptions of the church’s identity, cannot coexist in the same structural body. Are we “mainline” or are we “Methodist?” We cannot be both at the same time. The two contradict each other. It may be time for each identity to embody itself in its own church structure. It may be time for us to walk apart.
Thomas Lambrecht is a United Methodist clergyperson and the vice president of Good News.
