Yes, Marj Carpenter goes around spouting that refrain, and folks in her presbytery wear shirts that quote her, but so many of us treat that just as “Marj’s thing” and go about our business of running the denomination’s name into the ground.
I need not recount the many reasons why so many of us feel so disappointed with one aspect or another of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). The reasons are legion. Many of those things bug me, too. But I’m still sinfully proud to be a Presbyterian.
I’m sinfully proud, in part, because I know what it’s like in other traditions. I’ve been Roman Catholic, Assemblies of God, United Methodist, Free Methodist, Southern Baptist, American Baptist, Nazarene, Disciples of Christ, non-denominational fundapentacharisgelical. I’ve participated actively in congregations of all those denominations, and I joined several before finally settling into the PC(USA). No offense intended, but I’ll take our theology, our constitution, our headquarters, our debates, our arguments, our polity, and our culture over every one of theirs. Every one of those traditions has contributed to my spiritual growth, but I wouldn’t trade PC(USA) for any of them.
I’m proud, in part, because I don’t like the alternative. I have listened to the critics. I’ve parroted them. And I’ve listened to myself parroting them. Do you know how we sound to outsiders when we lambast our denomination?
Imagine someone inviting you to join the local Audubon Society. “I know you care for the environment. Well, you need to join our chapter of the Audubon Society. Yes, I know that the national organization is antiquated, incompetent, and goes off on crazy tangents. But our local chapter just disregards them. We don’t send them any money. We’re just doing great work in this area – right where you live – and you really ought to join up with us.”
Or imagine someone touting the local McDonald’s franchise. “You’ve got to come eat at my restaurant. Yeah, it’s true that most McD’s serve dog meat, and they let the fries soak in lard, and, well, they’re bad for you, but in my franchise here in town we serve only prime beef, and everything we serve is on the level of a five star restaurant. You’ve got to come and bring all your friends.”
What would you think about such recruitment approaches? When I’ve talked like that, I have been thrown into cognitive dissonance. I have sounded irresponsible, self-serving, self-aggrandizing, and disloyal to an organization whose name gives me a certain cache. I’ve even heard echoes of my early adolescent voice, when I invariably made myself look big by making others look small. Bottom line: in diminishing “them” I was really diminishing me.
I am sinfully proud for one other reason. It’s what leaders do, for so I learned from Fran Tarkenton and Bob Griese. Back when I was trying to live up to the title “team captain” for my high school’s freshman football team, I studied not only the on-field accomplishments of these stars. I also listened to the things they said. When the microphone was stuck in their faces after a game, and they were asked to what they attributed their great quarterbacking success, they gave the credit to their offensive linemen. The team loyalty, and the specific intention to give credit to the least flashy and least noticed players on the field told me something about leaders: they give credit to the unsung, the unseen, the underappreciated folks who all have helped them get where they’ve gotten but whose efforts are easily overlooked.
Yes, some of what we’ve got going in the PC(USA) is dysfunctional, antiquated, incompetent, and goes off on tangents. Some of our programs and publications go down like dogmeat and lard-saturated fries. But God called us here. It behooves us to be leaders where we’ve been commissioned to lead. Even if we sound unstylish and out of step.
— JHH
