From Leslie Scanlon’s review of the Committee on the Office of the General Assembly’s decision to close the Montreat Historical Society for financial reasons, we learn that a storm has been whipped up. The destruction of that storm will be felt far beyond Montreat. If that location is closed, 30,000 visitors a year to that small town nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains outside Ashville, N.C., will morph into a much wider community of disgruntled Presbyterians, not only across the South, but from all over the United States and in other nations.
Consider the ill-tempered mood of the church regarding our major disagreements: divestment, the ordination of gays and lesbians, and beliefs about salvation in the name of Jesus Christ alone. In our agitated state, we lose 40,000 plus members a year. Is it not odd, in those circumstances, that COGA voted to close the Montreat center on the report of a committee of three persons, not one of whom is from the Southeast or “represents” Montreat? Do they knowingly invite us into another fray guaranteed to provoke persistent irritation and anguish to thousands of Presbyterians, whose support is needed for the church’s future, as well as for the preservation of this collection in optimal form?
Further, the concern raised by advocates for regional locations of historical materials (and for Montreat in particular) is accessibility. The Presbyterian Historical Society claims we cannot afford regional centers. But other places in the church (Dubuque Seminary) are maintaining their own historical repositories–for accessibility as well as to insure that the materials are preserved by those who care passionately about them.
Yet the most important plea for retaining the collection in one place goes unheeded. Professional historians argue that the greatest value of the Montreat holdings is their connectedness. Missionary materials, local church and cultural history, session minutes, and the records of agencies, presbyteries, and synods of the PCUS (the former Southern stream) constitute a seamless web. To separate them renders them less valuable, changing forever their unique quality. An American church historian has said, “They are incredibly rich in the whole history of the Reformed tradition — including perhaps especially the mission movement. I am anxious about what is going to happen to the corpus.”
The most disturbing aspect of this situation is lack of accountability. Has a general inventory of the materials been made available to the public? Is there an oversight committee, composed at least equally of those who support the Montreat location and of those who are responsible for the relocation? This committee, once formed, should be composed — not of employees (of COGA, of the PHS, or at Montreat) but of presbyters and historians whose loyalty is to the history of Presbyterians in the United States of America. Staff would be there to assist and advise, but without vote.
That arrangement might rebuild trust, and would put the brakes on what will continue to be a demoralizing, fragmenting, and conflicted process unless new initiatives are undertaken.
How can those responsible exercise their creativity and compassion (or, in the words of our ordination vows, imagination and love) so that the whole church will be served? How can those charged with implementing this unfortunate decision turn it into a positive, educational opportunity? How can the seamless fabric be maintained? And will the PHS wait at least until the next meeting of Columbia Seminary’s board before moving one paper clip? Such prudence would go a long way toward calming fears and promoting true Presbyterian reunion.
Slow down; rethink the decision; let the alternatives mature until the best solutions are found; and invite accountability. The church has nothing to lose in the meantime but money. “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses … let us run with perseverance [not neglect] the race that is set before us. …”
