At times like these the words of conservative icon Harry Hassall come back to mind. I first heard them after the Wichita General Assembly (1994) voted overwhelmingly to declare, in its response to the Re-Imagining God controversy, that “Theology Matters.” We were headed out to dinner to celebrate the joy we felt over the vote. Harry suppressed his glee for a moment to express words that cooled our shared giddiness. He said:
“I have come to realize that, in Presbyterian Church politics, when things look really, really good, they’re not as good as you had hoped, and when things look really, really bad, they’re not as bad as you feared.”
Many folks attending this year’s General Assembly at Birmingham spoke in apocalyptic terms about “the end of Presbyterianism as we know it.”
Other folks popped corks in celebration of “the end of injustice as we know it.”
Well, the apocalyptic end of times was followed by a sunrise; the reports of the falling sky had grown out of inaccurate meteorological reports of last night’s sunset.
That blinding sunrise stunned hung-over revelers into the reality that yesterday’s injustices had not been eradicated in a single stroke.
The hopes and fears of all the years were not realized in a single GA vote. The world didn’t totally change when particular commissioners to a particular General Assembly pushed particular buttons to vote their minds on particular proposals. Actions taken in Birmingham were not as good as some hoped nor as bad as some feared.
Back home, folks caught wind of the exclamatory outbursts that pealed forth in those first hours after the key votes. E-mails zipped in rapid-fire succession–a fruit of the fact that keyboards speak more quickly than my New York City family members (I think the cab drivers set the pace for all N.Y. conversations … and their honking horns define the mood of the moment). Inflamed reactions revealed revulsion and resulting outrage.
Fortunately, just three days later, about 11,000 Presbyterian churches gathered throughout the land, and in each, a particular pastor or elder faced particular people who were dealing with their own particular issues–that member undergoing chemotherapy, those smiling parents and grandparents presenting their newborn for baptism, that first-time visitor whose husband just announced that he wants a divorce and now she showed up at church to try to reconnect with the God she once knew, the church school teacher whispering in the pastor’s ear just before worship, “The ladies’ room toilet is plugged and overflowing onto the floor.”
Every person gathering for worship on the Sunday following the adjournment of the 217th General Assembly needed to hear not a word of exclamation nor a word of condemnation about the denominational politic. They needed to hear the gospel. Most of them, I trust, did hear that very thing.
Barbie and I attended thriving, conservative Third Church in Richmond that Sunday. In a sermon titled, “Contending for the Faith,” Pastor Steve Hartman referenced the GA, expressing concern about the potential impact of the “PUP” report. But his words were measured. His report was accurate. His pastor’s heart was on display. He preached and prayed for God’s mercy, for a teachable spirit, for help to resist being judgmental, for healing for the sick, for strength for the weak, and for guidance for the perplexed.
“The actions of the GA are unclear,” he said. “The GA affirmed our Constitutional standards. What is not clear is how those standards will be applied.” Later he looked ahead: “If the time comes when biblical faithfulness has no future in our denomination, then we will sing a new song in a new land. But that time clearly has not come.”
Steve offered no blind declaration of allegiance to the denomination. He knew that Christian fellowships at times have subverted the faith so profoundly that the light of the gospel has surrendered–needlessly!–to the darkness. Yet he also called for faithfulness in the continuing Christian struggle, for humility when discussing troubling matters, and for mercy in our treatment of others because of the mercy we have received.
In short he preached a great sermon, a sermon that brought perspective.
This special edition of The Presbyterian Outlook has been prepared to help bring perspective. We have gathered together some of the best thinkers in the church, asking them, “Why stay?” Why would people remain in a church that they believe comes up short on matters of holiness or justice, on matters of piety or service, on matters of civility or courage? Why not go someplace that’s more congenial, more single-minded, more united in its identity and mission? Why stay in the PC(USA)?
We need more in-depth consideration of these questions and more. What does the Bible speak to a denominational generation about the shape of Christian unity? How does Reformed theology guide our behavior at a time of conflict? What experiences of others inform our community experience? How does the resurrection hope empower our efforts?
At such a time as this, it behooves us to step back to task ourselves, really, Why stay? Why would you stay here?
