Though their conceptions of a theological threshold for membership are very different, Josh Brockway’s recent postings brought to mind one of pastor David Stiles’ old postings over at Brethren for Biblical Authority. In it, David wrote:
“If we are following Biblical Authority, then we have the absolute centrality that: Jesus is Lord! Without that, we have nothing….
To function together as a united church, shouldn’t we have what I’m going to call a ‘minimal orthodoxy?’”
Brother David’s search for “minimal orthodoxy” led him to these convictions from the 1923 Brethren Card. The Church of the Brethren:
1- firmly accepts and teaches the fundamental evangelical doctrines of the inspiration of the Bible,
2- the personality of the Holy Spirit,
3- the virgin birth,
4 – the deity of Christ,
5 – the sin-pardoning value of His atonement,
6- His resurrection from the tomb,
7 – ascension and personal and visible return,
8 – and the resurrection both of the just and the unjust.
In Portrait of a People, I have described the bulk of today’s Brethren as theologically conservative; that much is irrefutable in the BMP data. Even so, a singular focus upon the dominant pattern begs the question, What exists at the theological margins, beyond the Brethren conservatism?
My recent observation that an estimated 18,000 members “have doubts” about God’s existence led me to wonder how many Brethren depart from the other tenets of the “minimal orthodoxy” presented above. Point by point, here are the results from the BMP data expressed as the estimated number of members with particular dissenting views. (Somehow it is easier to disregard “5% of the membership” than “6,500 members” even though they are the same figure in a denomination of approximately 130,000. )
1. Approximately 12,000 Brethren reject the position that the Bible is God’s Word, viewing it instead as an ancient book of stories or as having no relevance for today. Another 58,000 members believe the Bible is the inspired Word of God, but say that not everything in it should be taken literally.
2. The BMP contains nothing on the “personality” of the Holy Spirit, but does suggest that about 7,000 Brethren never seek the Holy Spirit’s guidance. Broadening the category a bit, over 25,000 Brethren (more than a fifth of the membership) say they seek the Holy Spirit’s guidance once a month or less. What is more, about 31,000 Brethren (over a quarter of the membership) believe the “charismatic gifts” of the Spirit such as healing, prophesying, and speaking in tongues are more human than divine in origin, reflecting human emotion more than God’s Spirit. A smaller number — about 10,000 — go so far as to say the “Holy Spirit” is just another name for “human insight or inspiration.”
3. Over 12,000 Brethren cannot quite accept the idea that Jesus was born of a virgin. Instead, they say either that they “don’t believe” in the virgin birth or that they are “not sure” what they believe. These 12,000 members represent about 10% of the total membership.
4. About 6,000 members (5% of the membership) don’t believe in the divinity of Jesus. Relatedly, about 17,000 members reject the idea that Jesus is the clearest revelation of God, saying instead that Jesus is but “one of many ways” to God or that Jesus was a great prophet and teacher, but “not more than that.”
5. The BMP included no questions about “the sin-pardoning value of Jesus’ atonement,” but did ask whether Brethren considered themselves “saved.” Nearly two-thirds of the membership (63%) said, “yes, I know I am saved,” but this leaves many who gave other answers. About 34,000 Brethren (26%), for example, respond, “I can’t say for sure; only God knows if I am saved.” Another 7,000 admit that “being saved is not central to my faith,” and 3,500 say the “people who know them best” can answer that question better than they can. All told, nearly 50,000 members give some response other than “yes, I know I am saved.”
6. Ninety percent of Brethren say they believe Jesus “physically arose from the dead,” but this leaves 10% — about 13,000 church members — who say either that they aren’t sure, don’t believe it, or decline to answer the question.
7. Over 25,000 members, when asked whether they believe Jesus will physically return to earth, respond with something other than a definite “yes.” Most of the 25,000 say they aren’t sure what they believe about Jesus’ return, but 5,000 reject the idea.
8. When asked whether they believe in life after death, 15,000 Brethren equivocate, responding with something other than “yes.” Even more vacillate on, or reject outright, the idea of hell as a place of eternal punishment — over 30,000 to be precise. The majority of Brethren do believe in hell, but it is notable that a quarter of today’s Brethren question the notion of eternal punishment.
In social surveys such as the Brethren Member Profile, the story of variability — departure from the norm — is often buried by a narrative of averages and dominant patterns. This is unfortunate because the full “portrait of a people” is comprised of both prevailing patterns and departures. What happens at the margins is noteworthy and shouldn’t be treated as if it weren’t part of the fuller portrait.
Beyond the percentages, manufacturers, publishers, etc. pay great attention to the absolute number of purchasers and subscribers. About 8% of the Brethren membership, for example, subscribe to The Messenger. Doesn’t sound like much. But 8% is over 10,000 subscribers — a smaller number than the publishers would wish, but an important base of readers. A survey researcher might write such a small percentage off as inconsequential, yet if 10,000 subscribers are married to 10,000 partners, we may be looking at closer to 20,000 readers. And depending upon their social relationships, these 20,000 may impact a much broader network.
All of the figures in points 1 through 8 above should be digested with that in mind. Small percentages reflect larger numbers of real members — members who may be broadly influential because of their social networks, or members who may be fading to the margins and the memory of the Brethren world — disenchanted at the disjuncture between their own views and those of the majority.
Your recent posts, Carl, have invited much creative and constructive thought as the COB travels in the direction of Grand Rapids. You are offering an important service to the church, the academy and society through your Brethren Cultural Landscape.
This is an especially engaging post for me. In fact, I plan to use it and your related research in a Bethany Seminary class this fall entitled, “Modernity, Postmodernity & Belief.” One thing we consider together is how the age of orthodoxy, and the kind of doctrinal propositions associated with it, emerged in the history of Christian thought as a kind of “modernism.” Some of the faithful wanted a belief system as codified and as marked by empirical certitude as the emerging new science. Thus, although it might seem counter-intuitive to some, the rise of fundamentalism is really a modern phenomenon, not a return to or a recovery of classical faith. In the modern era, for many, correct belief became more credible than the mystery of faith and the compassion of practice. The parables, poems, hymns, prayers, liturgies and stories of the Biblical and ancient Christian traditions, in which because of their genres there was a great surplus of meaning, yielded too completely to closed doctrinal propositions and absolute truth claims. In such a style of theologizing, metaphor gives way to magical thinking and mystery is harnessed in mathematical, logical syllogisms of God-talk. Thus, perhaps those Brethren among us who cannot dwell in doctrinal systems or in creedal Christianity but would rather follow Jesus peacefully, simply and together aren’t as far from the kingdom of God as some might charge?
It may be useful to make a distinction between older orthodoxies and early twentieth century fundamentalism, Scott. Many have observed that the latter is as much a modern construction as the modernism that it sought to oppose.
The historic creeds are examples of pre-modern orthodoxies. An interesting question to pose about early twentieth century fundementalism, on the other hand, is, What was uniquely modern about it (compared to earlier orthodoxies)?
Good expansion and call for clarification of my brief post, Carl. Briefly again, I would suggest two things to ponder, which are certainly not original or novel in contemporary theological thinking: First, the classical genre of orthodoxy reflected more the plain sense of the term “orthodoxy,” which means “right worship.” [Think, for vocabulary purposes, of doxology]. In modern, more fundamentalist styles of orthodoxy, the term shifts much more to the sense of right thinking or correct doctrine. Classical theologians, indeed even the new Radical Orthodox, would say we must have a doxological consummation of theology, not a doctrinaire apologetic. Second, since the practice and performance of Christian worship is more musical and metaphorical than flatly mathematical (although there is indeed an elegance in math), classical orthodoxy was more at home in the theopoetic and in the mythopoetic and thus less bound to rationalistic theo-logical propositions. Yes, there was indeed much Greek philosophical speculation in the composition of early creedal Christianity, but we must ask, “In what ways did the Greeks understand their myths?”
I always found the 1960s “Brethren’s Card” amusing in its emphasis upon the Brethren’s reasoned, rational approach to religion.
So, Carl, I have a question. Doesn’t your conclusion that the Brethren today are theologically conservative–and specifically in the areas and ways you have described here and your book–suggest that we have “traveled far from home”?
That is, I see very little similarity between what you describe about who the Brethren are today and what people like David Stiles want us to believe, on the one hand and what people like Don Durnbaugh and Jeff Bach seem (at least to me) to suggest are the characteristics that defined the COB as a movement for at least 200 years on the other.
Am I just that rusty in my history and Brethren theology or do we really have that little left of the vision that led the little band of Schwarzenau Brethren into the waters of re-baptism?
And, on the other hand, I’m hardly comforted by the fact that 18,000 people call themselves Christian and “have doubts” about whether there is a God or not and that 12,000 don’t think the Bible has relevance for today.
My less than scholarly conclusion…we’re a mess, with little direction, little holding us together, and very limited vision.
Brother David, even my contrasting of the two Brethren’s Cards (1900 versus 1923) suggest that Brethren (pushed by leaders at Juniata, among others) were on an early twentieth century trek to “new” (shall we say foreign?) theological terrain. Don Durnbaugh solidly endorsed my assertion in Brethren Society that restoration of the Primitive church with a grounding in childlike faith, unity within the fellowship (and with Christ), obedience to the Word (inner and outer), and separation from “the world” were central tenets of the early Brethren faith. Also, that there was a certain continuity of focus on these matters (and all that they entailed — the outward ordinances, defenselessness, church discipline, openness to the Holy Spirit’s whispering to the gemeinde, etc.) from the first generations until the mid-19th century. Readers here will be quick to point out that what is taken to be “tradition” is/was always contested and evolving. I do not disagree with that, but believe that one can nevertheless identify threads of continuity and ruptures from that continuity. I think Jeff Bach would concur.
You are not that rusty on history and theology, David. Not only are many groundless renderings of the early vision perpetuated, but real engagement with and interest in that vision has waned. The Brethren are not unique in this. Most Christians today live more with their eyes to the future than to their collective past. The particular traditions — whether Catholic, Brethren, Methodist, or others — have tried to adapt to a “Christian marketplace” where the consumer isn’t much interested in old formulas or the traditions of their mothers. On the contrary, the spirit of our age seems to be one that views a cultural/religious inheritance as something to be overcome, something from which we must be liberated, as our children must be liberated from our ways of being. Taken too far (and this is an important qualification), this is historically and sociologically myopic, if you ask me. (And you did.)
To be “Brethren” once identified a faith relationship with and obligation toward a much larger group of people, which is why they had to figure out a way to keep people away from Annual Meeting. Brethren of a century ago claimed that nowhere was there so large a group of believers who were so united — so much of one mind — in their faith and practice. Many mechanisms were in place to sustain and preserve that unity (even though it certainly was less united than they liked to think of it as being). The mechanisms, however, didn’t work, and broke down completely during the 1920s and 30s. After that, a strong cultural tradition for a while helped to assimilate newcomers into various Brethren ways, but the “strong culture” weakened over time. Once the authority of Annual Meeting was gutted, no real authority structure remained to exercise oversight over matters of ministry, membership, and the like. Some would celebrate this. I expect that you do not.
I am probably less disturbed than you over the 18,000 Dunkers with Doubts. Doubting might just signal a spiritual struggle for meaning, which is not a bad thing.
The question is not so much, What is the mess that we’re in? but, What do we do about it individually and collectively? One of the main elements of Dunker culture that appears to have survived is the impulse to remain in relationship. Our solutions are often framed by the Brethren-categorical-imperative: “just keep everyone together.” The way that happens now is that Annual Meeting seeks to provide spiritual guidance and vision, but many, especially those who disagree, receive their rulings and vision like junk mail. That was one of the clearest findings in the Brethren Member Profile. Within the last week, I have heard an influential conservative and an influential progressive say independently, “It doesn’t matter what Annual Conference says. If it doesn’t go our way, we’ll ignore it, break the rules.” How much shared direction and vision can there be under those circumstances? Oh well, at least we’ll be together. Enough for now. Thanks for joining the conversation.
Carl,
Thanks for the thoughtful response. You touch on many of the things that break my heart about the COB today. I would love to hear some people more skilled than myself theologically help us grapple in an intelligent way with this struggle we seem to be facing between “unity at all cost” at one end and “we’ll just ignore those who disagree and do it our way” at the other. It seems to me that we are unable, or perhaps just unwilling, to pursue a third way. That third way in my mind is to pursue the way of Jesus. I think this is where, dare I say it, I agree with SOME of my conservative brothers and sisters. I dream of a church where people would be so committed to one another and the ways of Christ that we are willing to sacrifice AND to challenge one another but learn to do so with the eyes, ears, and heart of Christ, which for me translates into compassionate honesty. In my mind that doesn’t require adherence to a strict set of intellectual beliefs that can be put on a card.
To that extent, I agree wholeheartedly with your statement that I am also not disturbed that 18,000 Brethren have doubts, if that is indeed your sense of what those responses mean. My disappointment or uncomfortableness with it comes more from an assumption that what it suggests is that we have watered down what it means to be Christian, and in our case Brethren, so much that 18,000 members of our denomination feel comfortable being part of the church even though they believe there is no God. IF it means that there is room in our church for 18,000 (maybe more) people who are in the church because they are doubters, people struggling with old concepts of God and searching for new ones (note the emphasis on struggling), then I not only am not disturbed but I rejoice.
The problem with unity, as you point out very well, is when it mutates into an expectation of conformity. Maybe that’s what we need to study together, how to work toward mutuality, commitment to the Body, unity, without allowing ourselves to slip into the simplistic approach to this which I think becomes a demand for conformity. I’m rambling but it’s because you are helping me struggle with something that I don’t have words to describe but which strikes a very deep cord within me, one that I trust, because it just won’t stop, is the Spirit of God at work within. Please keep at it.
Dave, Yet another way to understand the 18,000 Brethren doubters, and the thousands of other “lying Brethren” too spooked to answer the question honestly, is that they are in fact doubting a dead deity and his dreary institutions yet still seeking and searching for the God of Life. There were a number of Brethren associated with the “death of God movement” of the sixties and early seventies. Most of these death of God theologians were not in fact suggesting that there was no spiritual or divine reality in the universe; rather, they were making the case that the old god of Western, Constantinian Christendom was no longer omnipresent, omniscient or omnipotent. He was dying or dead and thus absent from their realm of experience. This movement was not alien to at least some of the sentiments of Radical Anabaptism and Pietism.
Some in the the COB do like this Grand Old Man of Christendom. Others are trying desperately to keep an old, sectarian, patriarchal, 18th century German deity on life support in the back room of their churches. If we ever dared to unplug him might the God of Life return and surprise us all with a bold new invitation to a table of radical hospitality?
So… Scott identifies various Brethren conceptions of God:
1. The Grand Old Man of Christendom
2. An old, sectarian, patriarchal, 18th century German deity on life support — worshipped by those who are desperately engaged in a futile task
3. The unplugged God of Life, presiding over the table of radical hospitality
Gee, I wonder which is Scott’s pick of the litter. Somehow, his posts often bring to mine a certain turn-of-the-sixteenth century triptych painting from the Netherlands that I’ve seen in Spain’s Prado museum…
Carl, somehow, earlier, I missed this response in which you liken my posts to some triptych from the Netherlands that landed at Spain’s Pardo Museum. I’m assuming you mean the work of Hieronymus Bosch rather than the more conventional paintings of Dirk Bouts? I have written on Bouts, you know.
If it is indeed Bousch’s “The Garden of Earthly Delights” you are thinking of, then you compliment me greatly for offering such a deep reading of my words. I do believe this kind of complicated image of eros towards God, world, self and others must be central to all honest theological reflection, for Genesis, some rabbis insist, is not the beginning of religion and morality; Genesis is the beginning of Desire.
Yes, the controversy over the interpretation of Bosch’s work reminds me of some of the theological differences among the Brethren.
David, mighty Brethren of you, that response… seriously. I’ve not read or heard much about the Brethren doctrine of compassionate honesty — much more is written/said about Brethren passive aggressiveness — but someone should fully formulate your understanding of the heart of Christ.
To clarify, I spoke of 18,000 Dunker doubters in God’s existence, not of 18,000 who “believe there is no God.” Most of those doubters say, “I have doubts” in God’s existence, but add that “I feel I do believe in God.” If you have a copy of Portrait of a People, this is answer 2 to the first survey question in Section B: Religious Beliefs. I will continue to include this group among the “doubters,” but their full response reveals that they should not be considered atheists.
Your concluding remarks on the “problem of unity” are perceptive and important, but you seem more hopeful than I am about mutuality and a commitment to the body in which believers open themselves up to challenge and sacrifice. You see, I think the different flavors of faith within the contemporary COB can as easily be depicted as different faiths. They may share a superficial commonality of faith language, but as I noted in Brethren Society, the meaning poured into the symbolic vessels differs. This makes it very difficult for them to forge unity. If “God,” “Jesus,” “salvation,” “authority,” “Spirit,” and “church” have radically different meanings for different groups within the church, it is difficult for them to seek together “the Spirit,” for they will be seeking different things. And when members cannot genuinely speak/seek together, it is difficult to find the kind of unity that you hope for.
Finally, agreeing with conservative brethren and sisters where you find common ground is something to celebrate. Does it really require boldness — “daring” — to do so?
I write honestly, even though I sometimes dislike the implications of what I’m saying.
I’ll join my voice with Scott’s, Carl, in saying the raft of posts you’ve put up and the conversations each one has started, has been an inspiration to watch and participate in, and it is indeed a service to the church!
This post elicits a few thoughts, somewhat technical. First, I’m currently reading Richard Bourne’s theopolitcal work, Seek the Peace of the City: Christian Political Criticism as Public, Realist, and Transformative (Cascade, 2009). I’m in over my head in this book but I think Scott would probably love wading through it. Bourne is bringing Yoder into conversation with folks like Milbank and Stout, along with some 20th century political philosophers (incl. Habermas) in order to make his case that Yoder’s political-ethical-theological project is sufficient for a public engagement that doesn’t cede ground to some encompassing “objective” public body politic. One of the things that Bourne finds in Yoder is that his central and perhaps only “core” doctrinal statement is that “Jesus is Lord,” especially emphasizing the eschatological dimensions of that which other more Modernist theologians miss. This may sound simplistic but in fact it’s a most universe-transforming confession. Perhaps all of Yoder’s project hinges on that one confession of faith and it’s all-encompassing implications (which, for Bourne’s work, means public witness/engagement; his book is a great companion piece to the Romand Coles article I mentioned in the other topic).
Similarly, Kavin Rowe and and his work in World Upside Down: Reading Acts in the Graeco-Roman Age (Oxford, 2009) seems to offer biblical corroboration to Yoder’s approach. Rowe makes the case that the work of the early church revolved around three interrelated beliefs/practices: 1) “Jesus is Lord” (not Caesar), 2) the assembled community/ekklesia/church, and 3) universal mission.
So from my work with these scholars/churchmen (not to mention their/my reading of Scripture), I wholeheartedly agree with brother David’s argument on the centrality of the confession, “Jesus is Lord!” Brethren would do well to explore the depth and breadth of that confession and its bending of time and space around the Christ, Jesus.
Brian, Stepping back a bit from Carl’s and Craig Allen’s current call to Brethren sources I wanted to mention that I’ve ordered Richard Bourne’s book based upon your recommendation. I’m looking forward to reading it. Also, Dana recommended Parker Palmer’s work and cites “The Company of Strangers.” Although Palmer’s book was published in 1981, it remains one of my favorite modern theological texts. In fact I cited it often in a 1986 article on Anabaptism as Public Theology (Conrad Grebel Review). I was as young as you, Brain, when I started writing for publication. Although these various blogs are great — Carl’s, Brian’s Josh’s — I hope you young scholars are pouring the energy and insight from these blogs into writing for publication.
David, your comments about attempting a third way of hospitality and mutuality, combined with Brian’s citations of Yoder/Stout/Hauerwas etc. make me think of some Parker Palmer that I read in a seminary course with sociologist Steve Tipton on “Morality in American Life.” Palmer advocates “hospitality” as the proper posture of a Christian in the larger world of civic and national politics, saying that hospitality means “meeting the stranger’s needs while allowing him or her to simply be, without attempting to make the stranger over into a modified version of ourselves.” (Palmer, The Company of Strangers, 23).
The problem is, this form of hospitality simply does not work in our current political structures – it’s totally against the basic democratic processes of argument and reason-giving.
So, I guess I’m suggesting that our problem might be with the assumptions we have about how we’re required to interact with one another as fellow Brethren, and what is required for us to be “together” and “unified.” What would happen if we shrugged off the political, democratic insistence on majority rules and legalism and began to practice some radical hospitality – not just with strangers and outsiders – but with our own sisters and brothers?
(Obviously, that suggestion does little to help us shape actual shared polity or organizational practices, and it definitely makes authority structures a lot more problematic…)
Good stuff, Dana. It reminds me that in Coles’ & Bourne’s treatment of Yoder they both identify – along with his “wild patience” – a humble vulnerability, which opens up possibilities for what you and Scott are calling “radical hospitality,” and one which doesn’t erase identity/otherness for an impossible ideal of Sameness. It leaves room for thick practices of character formation in the community that don’t demonize “the other,” is invitational (evangelical!), and inherently sees their mission leading “out there.”
That is, indeed, certainly a posture and approach that bucks the competitive-democratic winners/losers zero-sum game that is sadly played too often and doesn’t strike me as terribly Christian.
I like this weaving going on. I tend to think that something like this will start in pockets of local communities and not come down from on high in denominational statements from annual meetings. (That’s the radical democratic congregationalist in me, I suppose…much like Yoder).
Since I am back on the blog for a bit, I am going to make an statement that will indeed rile some- but please know that I know the question before us about human sexuality involves persons (LGBT or “straight”) and has spiritual ramifications beyond our knowing.
I don’t think this “Issue” has anything to do with who sleeps with whom or for that matter how one reads the Bible.
The issue is much more simple than either of those two questions. The question is if we as Brethren still believe that Annual Conference is the “final authority on matters of faith and practice” as it says in polity. In other words, is Annual Conference the body that speaks the mind of Christ?
Josh, Unlike the 18th century Brethren who might ponder this question of yours by oil lamplight, one today who flicks on the light switch in the morning, fires up the Subaru, and drives to his seminary office to boot the computer to write an article on Radical Pietism, or spirituality, or sexuality must answer your question, “No! Oh God, no!”