This week I’m going to begin an essay that I will conclude next week. I’ll begin with an overview as Part 1 and move toward a response in Part 2:
It seems like every few years a study emerges which, once again, proclaims that the death of religion is right around the next corner. News of faith’s imminent demise has likely been an ongoing phenomenon for centuries, and, to be sure, there is some truth in each instance. In my time of service to the Christian church, there have been a few such notable moments, each of which was met with some hand-wringing, some calls for “change or die,” and some “I told you so” comments. The March 29 publication of a Gallup Poll showing that more than half of adults in the US do not belong to a religious congregation is the latest of such studies, threatening to make Christian churches, along with Jewish synagogues and Islamist mosques, irrelevant soon, if not extinct eventually.
I’ll let other faiths speak for themselves, but for the Christian church I think it is important to note that the anxiety of our demise is rooted in what we have wrongly defined as our “success.” Christians commonly assume that a movement that began with the death of a fairly unknown Galilean then expanded to a global religion is all the proof we need that God is alive. Embedded in this story is an unspoken arrogance that those places and peoples where Christianity has historically been most influential are the leading lights of education and civilization throughout the world. But, that “success” story only sharpens the question of the moment. If the global expanse of the church was proof that Christianity had been fueled by God, then what does the decline of the church signify?
The historical confidence that the globalization of the church seemed to show from a historical perspective became prescriptive during the Church Growth movement. The stagnant to falling numbers in so-called “mainline” denominations and the rising numbers in so-called “evangelical” churches caused some panic and reaction at every level among historic, mainline churches. The word “evangelism” was conjoined with the phrase “church growth,” making it a matter of faithfulness for the church to increase its rolls and worship attendance. Mega-churches became the leading lights and their pastors became the role models, book sellers, and plenary presenters at workshops. The more liberal edges of theology were trimmed, not by conviction, but in order to “reach more people.” Bible studies avoided critical interpretation in order to focus on “application.” Behind all of these changes was the assumption that the downward trend of the mainline and the upward trend of evangelicals meant that the real sniff test of whether the church is being faithful can be demonstrated numerically.
Then, there was “Sheilaism,” the term offered by Robert Bellah and his collaborators in their book Habits of the Heart. The term was based on a woman named Sheila who seemed to show an alarming trend that threatened Christianity. Sheila was Christian enough, but also Buddhist in some ways, a bit of Jewish here and there, mostly choosing her meal not from the menu but à la carte. That kind of non-traditional religion was a threat to established religious movements of all kinds, because the ultimate arbiter of religious truth and meaning was … Sheila. Some churches dug into tradition as the better source of truth; others expanded the menu to offer yoga classes with a Christian mantra. Whether digging in or opening up, the primary motive still seemed to be that unless the church is growing numerically something is amiss.
Alas, on came the “Nones,” those who marked surveys claiming no religious affiliation at all. Often, the rationale would be that the church is both hypercritical and hypocritical. Scandal-free, inclusive-minded congregations took hope that their challenge was simply to show that they were not the kind of church that the “Nones” and company rejected. But, it turned out that the “Nones” were more or less “None and Done.” And, there was a changing point of view that really challenged the church’s presumed centrality, as the question shifted from “Why don’t you go to church?” to “Why do you go to church?” I once led a congregation through a series of question about their relationship with the church and, by far, the number one reason the faithful, church-attending, active folk gave for going to church was “the feeling of community.” After years of sermons warning against the church becoming a social club, who knew clubbing would be the church’s strong suit? The “Nones,” “Dones,” and “Whatevers” seem to have largely realized that a feeling of community can be found in many places. So, they left. And now they seem to outnumber the religious folks. And that’s were we’ll leave it for this week. Next week, I’ll offer a response.
Mark of St. Mark
