Well, I got my copy of Steven Harmon’s book Ecumenism Means You, Too: Ordinary Christians and the Quest for Christian Unity in the mail today. From what I’ve perused, it has already got me thinking about the unity of the church. But I have to confess, I probed the last couple of chapters first…Sorry, Steve.
But the reason I did was because the title of Chapter four caught my eye—10 Things You Can Do for the Unity of the Church. Within chapter four, two of those ten (though all ten are thought-provoking in their own right) resonated with me. And here they are: “Third, commit yourself to the life of a particular church, warts and all; and fourth, embrace a particular denominational tradition” (pp. 60-61).
Commit yourself to the life of a particular church, warts and all…embrace a particular denominational tradition…
This of course is not such an easy task for those whose churches or denominations have deemed them to be of little or no value, e.g., GLBT Christians among the ranks of most Protestants as well as Orthodox and Roman Catholics, not to mention the Church of the Latter-day Saints. And in response, a number of reconciling congregations have popped up over the past two decades. But is this a vestige of unity? I could also add the plight of women in ministry to this totem, which is a considerable part of the SBC (Southern Baptist Convention) & CBF’s (Cooperative Baptist Fellowship) story.
The reason I mention the GLBT community and the plight of women in ministry is because I, too, presented the Church with its own perceived incongruities about what Christian families and church staff should look like. My family represented an interracial one. I mean, what was the church to do with a white man and his black wife and mixed children wanting to serve in a congregational setting, especially in the Deep South! This definitely presented a dilemma for most. And, when God called me to the ministry (my beautiful family being a part of this as well), though I experienced a rush of unexplainable joy and humility, I soon felt forlorn and confused to say the least. I mean, I truly felt like I was on the island of misfit toys—that somehow I was tolerated as long as my role in the church didn’t allow me the rights and responsibilities of clergy status. And that’s when I began to search for something new—the way of the Baptists.
As my family and I trekked towards the Ohio Valley to attend seminary, I knew that I didn’t want to force my family makeup on any weary congregation—an itinerant system like the United Methodists (the denomination I grew up in), I thought, was out of the question. So, we found an American Baptist congregation in the heart of Dayton, Ohio. Within a couple of months, our family was received into the congregation, and we became Baptists! I soon combed over all the Shurden books I could get a hold of and became part of lively discussions of what ordinances and baptism for Baptists is all about. But seminary in Ohio became short-lived, and we soon moved back to Georgia, where I finished seminary at a respected Baptist seminary.
But what I soon found out in Georgia was that there wasn’t a place for me to serve and support my family at the same time. The story of the Georgia Baptists felt far removed from my experiences and readings of the Northern Baptists. Again, I didn’t “fit.” So, in hopes of finding ministry work, I returned to the United Methodist Church.
Fortunately, I found some ministry work, but at a price—the fact that I studied at a Baptist seminary instead of one of the United Methodist’s most premiere seminaries in the South isolated me within the episcopacy system. Thus, I had to come to grips with the fact that if I remained in the United Methodist Church, ordination might not be an outcome. And I still wrestle with that from time to time.
But the point of sharing my church story is this: For those of us who may seem flip about joining and serving within a certain denomination or church, the truth is that we are trying to find our way to worship, serve, and identify with something larger than ourselves that touches our inmost part of who we are in Christ. Although I want to be committed to a church or denomination, the larger institution must allow me to work and serve so that I can reside or find a place to root.
I’m reminded of a letter by Mark Rothko (one of my favorite twentieth-century painters) written to Yale University. It was an acceptance letter for which Yale bestowed Rothko with an honorary doctorate. This was a humbling honor because Rothko began his undergraduate studies at Yale, but never finished. Although Rothko is writing about the artist’s life, the underlining spiritual tone speaks to the very center of being ecumenical:
When I was a younger man, art was a lonely thing: no galleries, no collectors, no critics, no money. Yet it was a golden time, for then we had nothing to lose and a vision to gain. Today it is not quite the same. It is a time of tons of verbiage, activity, and consumption. Which condition is better for the world at large I will not venture to discuss. But I do know that many who are driven to this life are desparately [sic] searching for those pockets of silence where they can root and grow. We must all hope that they find them (1969).
In others words, being an ecumenical pragmatist is not a nasty word—it is a search, or better yet, a voyage some of us are willing to take. It’s my hope that we will find those pockets that we can eventually grow and serve within.
I’m fortunate today to serve a mid-size United Methodist congregation in North Georgia. They accept me and my family, and they give me the opportunity to lead. It’s not always easy (congregational ministry never is), but a spirit of mutuality and reciprocity reside within the community…that’s unity!
Suggested Readings:
Ecumenism Means You, Too: Ordinary Christians and the Quest for Christian Unity; Steven R. Harmon
Hope for the World: Mission in a Global Context; Walter Brueggeman (editor)
Joined in Discipleship: The Shaping of Contemporary Disciples Identity (Rev. & Exp) Chapter 10; Mark Toulouse
A Baptist Manual of Polity and Practice (Rev.); Norman H. Maring & Winthrop S. Hudson
The Baptist Identity: Four Fragile Freedoms; Walter B. Shurden
Baptist Life and Thought: A Source Book (Rev.); William H. Brackney (editor)
United Methodist Beliefs: A Brief Introduction; William Willimon
Word, Water, Wine, and Bread: How Worship Has Changed Over the Years; William Willimon
Brad, sorry I missed seeing this post earlier. Thanks for your probing questions about the "on the ground" challenges involved in moving toward a truly unified church that includes all who seek to follow Christ as Lord--and thanks for plugging the book.
ReplyDeleteGrace and peace,
Steve Harmon