With just six years of combined parish ministry experience, two young clergywomen ventured from the East Tennessee valley to the mountains of Montreat for the Hope for the Church Conference. Although many twenty and thirty-something’s are labeled with a strong aversion to anything institutional, such a label fails to fit either of us. Through our ordination vows, we have promised our lives to God’s work through the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). Buoyed by our experience sharing pews with some of the most seasoned leaders, we offer a glimpse of our hope for the denomination.
First, our hope resides in Scripture. Scripture gifts us with a narrative history of salvation revealing that God has always fulfilled God’s promises. Abraham and Sarah, venturing into the unknown to follow God, were granted a child, as promised, and became a blessing to the nations. The Israelites grieved their exile, yet were ultimately delivered from aimless wandering by a faithful God. And after the crucifixion, when it seemed as if darkness had overtaken the world, God once more broke in to make all things new with the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
The present is certainly unsure. Names and labels and plenty of analysis alarm us at every step of the way. Yet we have hope for tomorrow in the midst of the present because of the biblical witness of God’s faithfulness.
Second, our hope is not without uncertainty. Just like our faithful ancestors, we do not have all the answers for the never-ending supply of today’s questions. We do not know what the church will be like in ten years or seventy years. We do not know how worship services will be ordered. We do not know who will sit next to us in the pews or even if there will be pews. We do not have a blueprint for the bidding of the Holy Spirit. Uncertainty looms around every corner. And we think it’s here to stay for a while.
Hope surrounded by uncertainty requires an impossible task: letting go. Letting go of our easily constructed labels. Letting go of the bunkers of belief where we have set up camp. Letting go of the safe space of righteous anger and traveling into a murkier task of loving our neighbor. Following God has always meant surrendering human will for the Divine. Letting go helps make room for the newness that has been promised. It will come. We are a resurrection people. We may have to let go of a beloved hymnal, a treasured historical society, a standard Sunday school hour, or a frantic pace of change that alienates what was lovingly dubbed the “chronologically challenged” at the conference. Letting go is at the heart of the call to Christianity.
Third, our hope is not without blemish. We both are certain of one thing: our own sinful complicity in the division of the church. We both have been guilty of arrogant thinking and of excluding others who do not share our interpretations. We are guilty of knowing with certainty rather than listening with compassion. We have not fully practiced the way of being church that we hope the PC(USA) will learn to practice.
Finally, the invitation into Bible study, theological discussion, and worship with those who differ from us is one that we plan to accept. Our energy for intentional community comes from repeated and deep engagement with individual members of the task force, loads of commentary from both east and west, and much personal reflection. We are convinced that the process of such community will change us. Who knows in what way or to what degree, but change we will.
Ask any student who has spent a semester studying in a foreign country. Ask a young adult volunteer. Ask the high-school exchange student or Peace Corps worker. Living in a foreign world changes us. Studying abroad profoundly shapes the way we see and the way we will be. In fear, we have separated ourselves. Young from old. Conservative from liberal. White from anything but white. Wealthy from poor. We have become like foreign countries to one another. Perhaps we need to study abroad in a foreign land and get to know one another again. Perhaps we need to reclaim the ancient spiritual practice of hospitality with the stranger — living, loving, laughing, and breaking bread with the foreigners in our midst. Just maybe we will be changed.
Who knows, maybe even Presbytery meetings can benefit from such hospitality. Instead of painful, dreaded gatherings perhaps meetings focused on worship and mutual care of the other could become the norm.
Leaving the mountains of Montreat for the valley of East Tennessee, we return invigorated by impassioned discussions, challenged by prophetic preaching, inspired by the presence of the Holy Spirit, and convicted of our sin in the current system of distrust. We head back filled with hope. A hard hope. A hope that neither of us can attain on our own. A hope, rooted in Scripture, surrounded by mission, and bolstered by God. We do not want to miss the exciting future of God’s promises. We are staying with this denomination. Hopefully twenty years from now we will read this and wonder what all the fuss was about. Here’s to the hope of holding together the old and the new, whatever the new may be becoming. May it be so.
Wendy Neff is pastor of Highlands Church in Maryville, Tenn., and Heather Shortlidge is associate pastor of Rivermont Church in Chattanooga, Tenn.
