Sometimes I wonder why anyone would voluntarily participate on a panel to update a church hymnal. Some of the most divisive disagreements I've seen have been over what kind of music is played in the church and what hymns should be included. Don’t mess with someone else’s favorite hymn! So it didn't surprise me to see an article Dave found in The Economist on a “Presbyterian problem” about a song that wasn't included in an upcoming hymnal. A Presbyterian Church (USA) panel decided to leave the song “In Christ Alone” out because of the phrase "till on that Cross as Jesus died, the wrath of God was satisfied."
This could be an opportunity to talk about whether God is wrathful or loving or whether God really insisted on sacrificing Jesus to “satisfy” the price of our sins – both are topics we've explored here and here. There’s a lot more debate on “substitutionary atonement” than I ever knew. Instead the article described it as another instance of conservative vs. “soft-minded liberal Christianity.” Never mind that the alternate wording the panel wanted to use – “"…as Jesus died/the love of God was magnified" – already appeared in a recent Baptist hymnal or that the whole issue is more nuanced than a liberal vs. conservative ideological dispute, as this article in Christian Century describes.
But this isn't about songs in a hymnal. It’s about how labels can too often turn a respectful debate into an us vs. them free-for-all that goes nowhere. Several years ago, Brian McLaren wrote Generous Orthodoxy, a book with the longest subtitle of any on my shelf: “Why I am a missional + evangelical + post/protestant + liberal/conservative + mystical/poetic + biblical + charismatic/contemplative + fundamentalist/Calvinist + Anabaptist/Anglican + Methodist + catholic + green + incarnational + depressed-yet-hopeful + emergent + unfinished Christian.” One of the premises in his book is that people from different theological backgrounds and perspectives each have something to offer in terms of understanding who Jesus is and what it means to live a Christ-centered life. McLaren urges us to look beyond the “us/them” paradigm and consider what it means to live as “we together.” It’s a dialogue some folks are trying to have while others are still debating the title.
It’s hard to get past the labels because it’s one way we try to make sense of the world. That’s fine as long as we realize that we all are more than a collection of tags that sort us according to sex, age, political affiliation, religious preference, job title, economic status, health, musical and shopping tastes, etc. Sometimes we say or do things that don’t sit well with others. Sometimes we aren't inspired by someone else’s favorite hymn. Sometimes those labels that don’t completely fit us get in the way of having a reasonable, civil debate. Sometimes those labels we try to project onto God and Jesus – labels based on our particular perspectives – get in the way of recognizing that God doesn't actually fit neatly into those tags. And, whether we want to admit it or not, those labels can become baggage that turn some people off from religion and faith.
Anyone can write a blog to express an opinion (I’m proof of that!). Sometimes it’s easier to frame a mock debate between you and some “soft-minded liberal” or “judgmental fundamentalist” (depending on your perspective). But that’s not the same as listening to what the other person has to say and trying to understand where they are coming from. When we get caught up in debating the stereotypes, we forget that the real people behind those labels are much more complex, interesting, and worthy than the labels make them out to be.
Rachel Held Evans recently said it well:
The truth is, that dude whose blog posts totally rub you the wrong way may be the best person in the world with which to watch a football game or talk theology over beer. That acquaintance on Facebook whose pictures make her life seem perfect may struggle with self-doubt, depression, and fear. That stuffy Calvinist you love to hate may melt into a goofy, delightful playmate when he’s tickling his kids on the living room floor. The feminist you always imagine shouting other people down may have an unbelievably tender heart. The pastor you think is always wrong probably gets a few things right. And the pastor you think is always right definitely gets some stuff wrong.
Perhaps the most radical thing we followers of Jesus can do in the information age is treat each other like humans—not heroes, not villains, not avatars, not statuses, not Republicans, not Democrats, not Calvinists, not Emergents—just humans. This wouldn't mean we would stop disagreeing, but I think it would mean we would disagree well.
Maybe one radical way Christianity pulls us up from our messiness isn't whether God’s wrath or God’s love prevails. Instead, through Jesus, God calls us to enter into relationships where all of our labels and pretenses – and the pressure to “fit” into those labels – are stripped away. I’d like to think that God embraces us no matter where we stand in the ideological debate because God transcends those debates.
The question is, how do we learn to recognize and move beyond those labels we’re so used to using?
You don’t have to look at the studies to know that many churches aren’t exactly overflowing with young adults. Go to church on Sunday and look around you(1). If you need studies, here’s one by Pew Research and another one from the Barna Group. You’ll also find plenty of opinions as to why this is. “Why?” may be a good question to ask (as a scientist, it’s one of my favorites), but a better question is “What are we going to do about it?”
Rachel Held Evans has become one of my favorite bloggers and writers because she challenges us to move beyond pontification to action. She’s written in the past about why she left church and why she came back. She recently wrote about why millennials are leaving the church on CNN and in more depth on her blog. The bottom line, from her perspective, is that young adults just aren’t finding Jesus in church. They seek substance and, instead, get superficial style. Here’s an excerpt:
What millennials really want from the church is not a change in style but a change in substance.
We want an end to the culture wars. We want a truce between science and faith. We want to be known for what we stand for, not what we are against.
We want to ask questions that don’t have predetermined answers.
We want churches that emphasize an allegiance to the kingdom of God over an allegiance to a single political party or a single nation.
We want our LGBT friends to feel truly welcome in our faith communities.
We want to be challenged to live lives of holiness, not only when it comes to sex, but also when it comes to living simply, caring for the poor and oppressed, pursuing reconciliation, engaging in creation care and becoming peacemakers.
You can’t hand us a latte and then go about business as usual and expect us to stick around. We’re not leaving the church because we don’t find the cool factor there; we’re leaving the church because we don’t find Jesus there.
Like every generation before ours and every generation after, deep down, we long for Jesus.
No one is going to mistake me for a young adult, but I want the same thing. And I want a church with a solid foundation that will not only help nurture my kids’ faith, but will inspire them to be better disciples of Jesus than I am.
While some mainline churches offer those things – here’s a response from a Presbyterian (PCUSA) pastor to Rachel Held Evans’ comments on the mainline church –why aren’t more mainline churches thriving? And, more importantly, what are we doing about it?
Rachel Held Evans writes that we need to “sit down and really talk with [young adults] about what they’re looking for and what they would like to contribute to a faith community.” It doesn’t mean that we compromise the basic foundation of our faith, but we need to strip away the baggage to get back to that foundation. In the follow-up article, she frames her message as a vision and hope:
The article wasn’t intended to be a list of demands, but rather an expression of desires, a casting of vision and an articulation of my hope for the Church. Obviously, the real work begins when we come together in community to do the hard, daily work of reconciliation, listening, serving, and worshipping in spirit and truth.
This is one area where I feel I’ve been called in the last few years. This blog – offering a forum to explore tough questions – was a start, but it could use more personal engagement and more young voices (that’s not a knock on those who regularly respond, because I’ve learned a lot from your comments). I’m excited about this fall’s adult discipleship series we’ve planned using the animate Faith and animate Bible materials. But that’s only going to work if we go beyond talking to doing.
I’d love to hear what you think of Rachel Held Evans’ posts. Do you identify with her views about what’s missing in the church? What would you add? What would you do about it?
(1) Not every church is losing young adults and there lies hope for the future. My church is one of those that is declining in membership and I’m not sure we’re doing much about it. I don’t buy the arguments that it’s the demographics of the area or that it’s a denominational problem and we can’t do much about it. Either we passionately believe that God is at work among us and we need to share that with our neighbors or we need to get out of the way and let God work. Either way, the question stands: We’re not gaining members, so what are going to do about it?
