IT’S NO NEWS TO ANYONE that for decades our denomination has been roiled in conflict. This is neither unexpected nor shameful; instead, it’s at the core of who we are. Dietrich Bonhoeffer staunchly resisted Hitler’s megalomania. John Calvin radically pressed for popular elections in place of royal power and hierarchical priesthood. Peter and Paul fought over where the boundaries of Christian behavior should be in a pluralistic church.
There’s no doubt that our church fights have been messy and at times ugly. Over my lifetime we’ve fought fiercely over women’s ordination, engagement in wars in Vietnam and the Middle East, LGBT ordination and same-sex marriage. It hasn’t been fun. But it has been crucial work for Christians who care deeply about how to live faithfully in the world.
Yet now it feels like we’re in the midst of a different division: a rift across generations. Given the well-documented flight of the millennials from church, it’s a blessing that we have this problem at all.
The nature of this division seems to be an awkward silence. It’s as if we’re speaking different languages — all the while we’re pretending that we’re not from different cultures.
There have always been shifts across generations: differences in music, clothing, slang. But this is different. I sense a profound lack of appreciation of other generations.
If I’m hearing correctly, many who are younger despair that church institutions are mired in self-preservation. That the way we govern is breathtakingly bureaucratic. That the way we cling to traditions in worship, study and mission is idolatry of the past.
And if I’m hearing correctly, many who are older fear that the church they cherish is going to crumble before their eyes. That the memory of Civil Rights marches and other hard-fought justice issues will disappear when they die. One older friend, a former clerk of session, confessed that she’s grieving, afraid we’re going the way of Europe and empty buildings will be the norm.
So here’s my prayer for us: Let’s dare to bridge the gap. For those of us attending General Assembly, we have an incredible opportunity to engage. In the midst of the business at hand, as we gather for worship or break for coffee or beer, let’s intentionally, openly talk with people who are younger or older than we are. Start simply: Ask questions about what they’re noticing. Ask what frustrates them. Ask what inspires them.
And at home, let’s talk across the divide. Let’s have our confirmands interview older adults and vice versa, asking about God’s presence in their lives, about moments of challenge and resilience. Let’s have honest conversations about what millennials hate about polity or programs or liturgy — and press to ask what they hope for instead. Let’s have frank sharing about what the Greatest Generation and Baby Boomers detest as well, what they treasure, what they could take or leave and what they hope Christ’s body on earth might be a hundred years from now.
Is this the only gap we have? Hardly. Our country is divided into radically different worldviews based on racial identity, economic status, political values, religious beliefs, educational experience, gender association and much, much more. Across all of these chasms, we’re called to “speak the truth in love.” But before we speak, we’ll gain all the more if we start instead by listening. The “positive psychology” movement has a phrase for it: appreciative inquiry. Jesus calls it loving our neighbor as ourselves.
