Tag: postmodernity

A Way Forward (Part Two): Looking for Confluence

Convergence

This is my second in my three-part series thinking about the future of evangelicalism, especially in light of our current struggles with who owns the label (more next time) and what it means. My last post (or posts) was about separating the broad cultural assumptions surrounding religion from religious practice. My argument is that if we focus on actual religious behavior instead of the dividing lines we throw up we can learn something important about the nature of Christ’s Church in this complex, diverse, postmodern world.

Last month I described why Prodigal Christianity by David Fitch and Geoff Holsclaw was so important to our thinking about a society that no longer fits our past cognitive structures. As they argued, we are now in some form of post-Christendom society.

Not that Christianity isn’t relevant. To the contrary, it is more important than ever. But what changed is the notion that we can’t simply assume everyone shares our values or language. This is why the cultural baggage post had to happen first. We have to figure out how to talk about Christian faith in ways that will be heard within the contemporary culture.

David and Geoff unpack a number of ways in which the faith can communicate in what they call “the far country”. By following the metaphor of the Incarnation, they offer serious vistas on how the Gospel comes to cultures that are not initially accepting. As their subtitle states, they offer “10 signposts into the missional frontier”: Post-Christendom, Missio Dei, Incarnation, Witness, Scripture, Gospel, Church, Prodigal Relationships, Prodigal Justice, and Prodigal Openness.

I’ve recently finished Diana Butler Bass’ Christianity for the Rest of Us. I’m actually two books behind on her scholarship and her more recent work is focused on the nature of spirituality in America. Frankly, I read this particular book because it was on the shelf in the SAU library. But I was thrilled to read it because it opened my eyes to certain assumptions I was making about the nature of the religious landscape.

The book is the result of a three-year study, the Project on Congregations of Intentional Practice, funded by the Lilly Endowment. In the face of common statements about the accommodation of mainline congregations expressed in press, pulpits, and sociological scholarship, the project set out to examine “vital congregations”.

These congregations were different. Not because they had adopted conservative evangelical style or rhetorical schemes. Not because the pastors preached in jeans and layered shirts or wore hipster glasses. Not because the music was contemporary with lyrics projected up on the screen.

These were mainline congregations that embraced their mainline heritage and yet looked for authentic faith. They did it in ways that may differ quite a bit from the average megachurch and yet it had the same approach to being serious about Christianity.

Over the year or so I’ve been writing about the changing nature of evangelicalism, I periodically get comments claiming that my position is no different from mainline accommodationism. They are consistent with authors who have decried mainline religion as empty, embracing humanistic values in a desire to be accepted by the larger society. I’ve been troubled by these comments because they seemed so unaware of what real people in real churches were trying to do. The arguments seemed based on stereotypes of some mainline ministers from forty years ago.

I was thrilled when Diana’s first chapter offers a critique of an accommodationist congregation, one she knew as a girl. This, she said, was not the kind of congregation she was trying to understand. Instead, she examined ten congregations in depth (there were 50 involved in a survey instrument but the richest part of the book comes from these congregations). These churches were from Lutheran, Episcopalian, Methodist, Presbyterian, and United Church of Christ denominations. And still, the faith present in these congregations was a far cry from the “anything goes” critique so often tossed toward mainline religion.

The individual chapters explore some common themes the contributed to the vital faith evident in these congregations. Shockingly, she also uses “10 signposts”: Hospitality, Discernment, Healing, Contemplation, Testimony, Diversity, Justice, Worship, Reflection, and Beauty.

Two sets of “10 signposts” — both books deal with Hospitality, Scripture, Testimony, Justice, Diversity, Beauty, Healing, and Reflection. They may use slightly different words but their messages are the same. There is a vital faith present in Christianity that not defined by culture war arguments nor by blind accommodationism.  It is characterized by authentic faith that is tolerant of multiple views and trusts in the Holy Spirit to assist understanding.

One book written to the evangelical community on what it means to live as people of faith in the postmodern world. One book written to the mainline community on what it means to live as people of faith in the postmodern world. Both finding similar metaphors to describe the elements of that faithful life.

It was a wonderful discovery for me. It speaks to the vibrancy of God’s work in our midst. But I shouldn’t have been surprised by this. I realize that I read a number of people who are clearly evangelicals and serve in Methodist or Presbyterian or Lutheran congregations. They certainly aren’t accommodating to the larger culture.

I also see a number of millennial evangelicals finding meaning and satisfaction in more liturgical, more diverse, more complex settings of faith found in some mainline congregations. To see them as abandoning faith is unfair to both them and the churches that attract them.

I have a friend in Portland who once wrote some wonderful stuff on “confluence”. His metaphor is based on what happens with the Willamette and the Columbia come together. It’s not just that they are flowing the same way. It’s that their waters intermingle and at some point you can no longer tell which water came from which source. The current, however, is still strong.

This is where the future of evangelicalism will be found. It the midst of the stream, following God’s leading into that future he has been building all along.

First Step: Peter’s Vision

"Surely not Lord..."
“Surely not Lord…”

When I started teaching in Christian Colleges three decades ago, I was a fan of the Christian Worldview motif. It draws upon a number of scriptural references: “Let this mind be in you…“, “Think on these things“, “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind” and, of course, contrasts between the “foolishness of God” and the “wisdom of men“. I now recognize, as I didn’t in my younger days, that almost none of those verses actually speak to issues of education unless they’re taken out of context. But they fit into a Christian mindset that was focused on separation from The World, an important theme of the founding of many Christian colleges.

Rather than starting with the stark contrast between church and world, the first chapter of my book begins in a very different place. In place of working from theological presuppositions, I begin with what I think is one of the most amazing passages in the book of Acts: Peter’s vision in Acts 10. We aren’t stringing together verses to make a patchwork conception of worldview. We’re trying to understand a very strange life event and its even more remarkable interpretation.

Peter is in Joppa and has an amazing vision. A sheet is unfurled before him containing all kinds of animals and unclean things (when looking at pictures on Google, there are lots of images of giraffes and camels — I honestly never thought about them when the verse says “all four-footed creatures“). A voice tells Peter to kill and eat. He says “Surely not, Lord. Nothing unclean has ever entered my mouth“. Three times the sheet comes down but Peter maintains his purity. Immediately after the third sheet, the Spirit tells Peter that three men were coming to see him and will take him to the Roman centurion Cornelius. He goes with them and baptizes Cornelius and his entire household.

The separatist perspective of Christian worldviews struggles over contrasting issues: faith and science, good and bad literature/movies, relativism and absolute truth. These contrasts and conflicts play out today across Facebook, Twitter, Christian magazines, and popular preaching. They speak fearfully of slippery slope arguments and too often make education something to be feared.

Peter’s vision takes us to a different place. The voice says to Peter, “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean.” The message is pretty clear — God is in control and nothing we come in contact with is beyond his scope. Take and eat.

Maybe in education, it should be take and read. Explore that idea. Look at things from another perspective.

Peter is listening to the Spirit and is willing to consider what faithfulness means to him. He is living in obedience to God’s call even though it’s taking him in directions he was initially unwilling to go.

As fascinating as I find Peter’s vision in Acts 10, I’m blown away by what happens in  chapter 11. When he gets back to Jerusalem, the apostles and believers want to know what in the world was going on.

They were probably writing nasty posts on Facebook calling out Peter for his irreligious actions: click “like” if you think the we should stay away from uncircumcised men.

So he tells his story. He explains what he was thinking and what was in the vision. He tells of the leading of the Holy Spirit, both when he goes with the men and again at the baptism.

The other apostles listen to Peter, consider his integrity and testimony, and reach a conclusion: “So then even to the Gentiles God has granted repentance that leads to life.” They not only endorse what Peter did, they view it in the larger more theological terms. They learned vicariously through Peter’s vision and obedience.

This is the image I hold in considering how students should engage their new experiences in college. They shouldn’t come in fear, worrying that they’ll come across things that are challenging. They are listening for the Spirit leading them to new and deep understandings. They are sharing those understandings with those around them: other students, faculty, staff, parents, pastors. Those others listen carefully to the students and to the Spirit and help them put their new learning into a larger context. Faith and learning are not opposed to each other but both lead us all to new depths of understandings.

It requires a lot of faith, a lot of patience, and a lot of growth. But in the end, it results in students not constrained by the polarizing topics of prior generations. It results in students able to articulate faith to an increasingly postmodern, religiously unsophisticated culture.

Millennial Canaries

Canary

If you’ve been anywhere near the internet this week, you know that the topic of the week (other than Reza Aslan’s new book) is about millenials leaving the church. Rachel Held Evans wrote a nice summary of work by David Kinnaman and others. Combining that research with her own reflections, she attempted to clarify the issues: attitudes toward homosexuals, combativeness, unwilling to address doubt. She summarizes a nice piece that documented how young evangelicals are attracted to liturgical churches. Part of Rachel’s concern was that too many in the religious sphere have responded to millennial concerns as the need for better marketing or hipper bands. Maybe we need more 60 year old pastors preaching in skinny jeans and hipster glasses.

The response has been somewhat surprising. Mainliners said that Rachel’s issues were only true for evangelicals and that what she called for was present in the Methodist church. Other evangelicals responded that millenials needed to listen to their elders and recognize that the church isn’t supposed to deal with a narcissistic group of twenty-somethings who grew up thinking they were special.

Jonathan Fitzgerald wrote a clever piece today on how the real question is about involvement. How do millenials find places of connection within the local congregation? The question of involvement raises the questions that Michelle Van Loon has been exploring — that 40-somethings show lower levels of engagement in their local churches than was true a decade ago. Michele summarized her thinking in this podcast.

Here’s what I’m thinking. Millenials are the canary in the coal mine of modern protestantism. As part of the entire RHE flurry, Chris Morton posted this interesting piece about what would characterize a millennial church.  But when I read Chris’ piece, I realized THAT’S WHAT I WANT IN A CHURCH. Last week I read this wonderful piece by Jamie (the Very Worst Missionary) reporting on a church she’d attended in Central America. Called “Doing it Wrong”, Jamie critiques our assumptions about modern American worship services. And again I said, THAT’S WHAT I WANT IN A CHURCH.

What this tells me is that the issues millenials are raising are not about them. They’re about the spectator elements of modern worship: music done FOR you, auditorium seating, anonymity, lack of engagement in questions of faith. I’ve felt this before. Slightly disconnected from a congregation. So what’s different with my generation? Why didn’t we respond like the millenials?

We didn’t do that because it was assumed you’d stay loyal to a local congregation. Maybe this is a holdover from geographically based parish life or ethnically identified denominations. We stuck it out, not because it was okay but because we didn’t want to be deviant.

Today things are different. The percentage of adults who are non-religious (not affiliating, not attending, not caring) is higher than it’s ever been. Questions about the legitimacy of religion in modern life are regularly raised not just by Dawkins but by folks writing comments on any  webpage that barely mentions religion.

The world is changing. We may not be in a post-Christian society, But it’s clear that we’re entering a period where being Christian is not the default assumption. It’s a time where we will need to engage in far more dialogue and do much less arguing. I’ve been reading Ed Cyzewski’s Coffeehouse Theology. He addresses the implications of postmodernity for today’s church. The same sentiments were raised by Nate Pyle a couple of days ago. Nate nails it: “unless we want a new wineskin, we don’t want something new.”

The conversation begun by David Kinnaman, Gabe Lyons, Christian Smith, Diana Butler Bass, and others dovetails with the changing trends in religious participation in America. We may wish things were the way they used to be, but that’s not coming back.

We need to pay attention to the millennial concerns. Not because they’re spoiled kids who need to grow up. Not because the church needs to be hip. But because they grew up in postmodern culture. Engaging postmodern religion through the lens of the millenials will help the church of 2020 proclaim the Gospel to a complex and confusing world.

The millenials are the canary in the religious mine. We can ignore them and call them spoiled. But if we do that, we lose our ability to engage future generations. These demographic changes aren’ going to change and we need to respond with faith, compassion, intelligence, and authenticity. We need the millenials to insure the future quality of the church. In the end, it’s the church I want to be a part of.