I am both humbled and daunted by the confidence the search committee and board of the Presbyterian Outlook Foundation has shown by naming me editor. Standing on the shoulders of Aubrey Brown (1943-1978) George Hunt (1978-1988) and Robert Bullock (1988–2003) reminds me of the awesome responsibility that attaches to this position. The PC(USA), the denominations that birthed and nourished us into existence, the Reformed and Presbyterian family of churches in the United States, and even the holy universal church owe these past three editors an immense debt of gratitude, as do our readers.
Please don't call me contentious. Don't call me disloyal. I'm just confused over the conviction deeply held by some of my dearest friends about their right to withhold or redirect funds that normally would go to the denomination. What I hear them saying is that the church courts have affirmed our legal right — which is accorded us by our polity ...which is based upon our theology — which issues from our God-endowed freedom — to determine where our money goes. Where all of our money goes.
Across the denomination there is much interest concerning Western North Carolina Presbytery's Jan. 31 meeting, when the peers of Presbyterian Layman editor-in-chief and CEO Parker Williamson will consider a recommendation that his ministry with the Lay Committee not be revalidated.
While attending a preaching conference in Atlanta last year, I had the opportunity to visit the Ebeneezer Baptist Church and the National Park Service grounds that are dedicated to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s memory. Yet as I strolled through the streets there and gazed at the adjacent neighborhood, I was forced to wonder: Had Dr. King’s dream truly come to fruition?
In perhaps the most famous story in the New Testament, a lawyer stands up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he said, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?" We all know the answer he gets: Love God with everything you’ve got, and love your neighbor as yourself. "Do this, and you will live," replies our great Christ.
In late October the Presbyterian Lay Committee issued what it called "A Declaration of Conscience." It takes that group’s traditional "you can’t trust Louisville" stand a bit further. I understand they say it's not a call to withhold funds altogether, but when they say that GA mission and per capita budgets are not "worthy of support," and ask sessions to prayerfully consider redirecting contributions elsewhere, it sure sounds like "Don’t give your money to the PC(USA)."
A recent survey of public expectations claims that pessimism prevails in opinions about ethical values. According to a report cited in the Christian Century, more than two-thirds of Americans feel that general morality is on a downhill slope. A vague and unspoken assumption seems to be that American society was once much more keenly centered on high and praiseworthy ideals, but that with the slippage in attention to religious and noble motives, and the seductive attractions of consumerism and a newly permissive amorality, we are gleefully submitting to social corrosion.
Not least of the problems in the PC(USA) is that we Presbyterians seem unable to talk about our faith in clear and useful ways. If we do have a confident message to share, I suspect it is often different from the faith of the Reformed tradition.
It was June 1979. Fresh out of seminary, I had accepted a call to three small churches that were yoked together in east central Missouri. I was one of seven persons who were to appear before the Examinations Committee of Missouri Union Presbytery, all of whom were daring to enter the high calling of being a pastor to God's people. Each of us entered the room, one at a time, to be examined separately. We engaged in trivial conversation to ease the tension, listening for any clues from the closed doors of what might lie ahead of us.
Like dozens of men and women before me, I now have the privilege of wearing the moderator’s cross. Most Presbyterians know the story behind the cross — the vision and the generosity of H. Ray Anderson of Fourth church in Chicago, who purchased the crosses on the Island of Iona in 1948.
