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Church power

Tue, 08 Jun 2010 10:59:21 +0000

Power and dependency in the church today
If you want a sociology lesson in power, one easy method is to sit in a church pew on Sunday mornings. We all know that historically the church has an awful lot to answer for in the wrongful use of authority, and many write off the cumbersome older institutions. But if you look at the modern clerics, I don’t know that anything much has changed. Like many things in western society it looks smoother and friendlier, but the underpinnings of being told what to do are all still there.

Power clash (Photo courtesy of Herman Krieger)

The electric churches, full of rock bands and signs and wonders every Sunday, have a mixture of social and spiritual techniques. The professional pastor gets up and lays a message of his choosing on everyone. Naturally he invokes God on his side to buttress his advice, and, being a follower of the motivation school, he is certain to smile his way round the flock at coffee afterwards.

Even so, what’s the problem? Initially, nothing at all. These people provide good community services. They advise and counsel and fix up many personal and family issues. Drug addicts are turned into youth leaders. The church occupies an extremely useful social function that outshines any government committee on social welfare. But it can’t seem to get beyond the fixup issue with its people. It has trouble with the maturity stakes, and can’t recognise that it unwittingly has a power and dependency syndrome permeating it. This factor causes even the most modern church to lose people. Doesn’t matter which denomination. And being a bit of a local and international church junkie, I have covered quite a few denominations.

I have frequently observed people come into a new spiritual experience in Christianity. Suddenly that previously monolithic thing called Christendom is no longer a decrepit old bureaucracy. In an instant, like Paul on the Damascus road, the light breaks through and a life is changed. At this point the new convert can’t get enough of church, of prayer, of singing, and if he is lucky, studying the Bible.

After some time he moves to stage two, which is incorporation into the hierarchy. He gets involved in committees. He immediately sees these groups are run worse than company board meetings, and he is exposed to power blocs within the congregation. But most people don’t have a problem with this for some reason. They reconcile this parody of human behaviour quite happily, even though it is supposed to be guided by higher ways. At this stage, and I repeatedly see it, any final guidance or word on anything, has to be approved by the pastor. Even an interpretation on a tricky passage in the Bible. If there is a dispute, phone him. He is in closer touch with God, after all.

Many don’t reach stage three. This is the awkward phase when you understand a little of the marvellous freedom of Christianity, but also see that the church is just another institution run along exactly the same sociological lines. Stage three is the dangerous one because of your options.

Firstly you can live in two worlds. Plenty of Christians do this. They can’t let go of their faith, so they compartmentalise their lives. They are frustrated with the fact that the sociologically analysable church is the major expression of Christianity in the world. But they see it as the best available option for introducing their kids to the gospel. So they keep going, and check their brains in at the door.

A second option is to simply drop out. I am told there are more people leaving evangelical churches than joining. I certainly know some in this category, people whose lives were changed, and then after some time looked up and saw the same old marionette strings of power and authority influencing their lives. Out went the baby with the bathwater.

Or thirdly, there are some who are convinced that their calling is to work in Christianity ‘fulltime’ and become a man of…, sorry, a person of the cloth. They join the system.

And finally, some reject the power syndrome and run what are called ‘house churches.’ No clergy present. In these house churches, people really get to know their Bibles, because they don’t have an expert to tell them what it says. It’s true. House church people know the basic book of Christianity far better than those in any outfit led by a professional.

Now here’s the interesting thing. Many pastors would agree with all the above. They know the dependency syndrome is there, but they don’t know what to do about it. They want their people to be independent thinkers. At least they tell me they do. But they won’t go public with this knowledge. They fear their congregations couldn’t handle it. They can’t see their church surviving without a professional leader. And the congregation, mostly in stage two above, cannot conceive of it either. Therefore the structure perpetuates itself.

Of course there are also plenty of modern clerics who don’t agree with the above, and get people to prefix their own name with the word ‘Pastor’. Exactly the same as the crusty clerics we are meant to call ‘Father’ or ‘Reverend’. Give me strength!

This is intriguing because Jesus repeatedly got stuck into the church leaders of his day, and always went public with repeated condemnations of authority. St Paul started churches and then left them after a year or two. Even though those churches had many problems, he went anyway, so they could discover their maturity. In most cases, he wrote just a single letter back to each of them.

But not today. Pastors can’t seem to do it. Their people are still dependent on them. A growing spiritual freedom leads to frustration, capitulation, or dropping out, and each census year, the statistics show a decline in attendance.

Traditional authority in the west is declining, something long overdue since the wars of this century woke us to the folly of those in power. Unfortunately the churches cannot handle this decline, even despite its predicted demise in the Bible. In fact they blame societies ills on a lack of authority, pointing back to some golden mythical age, another thing the Bible warns against.

In the third world the church is on the grow, understandably because the message of Christianity has obvious answers in that context. Corruption, blatant injustice and warfare are things you can stand up against and be counted. I personally knew two missionaries who worked for more than twenty years in a corrupt African country, and who died in a hail of bullets. The lines of good and evil are at least simpler to see. The gospel thrives there and brings change to lives. Our western clerics understandably try and find answers in the successful church growth models of those nations, and end up bringing people here like Yonggi Cho from Korea, who runs a church of 700,000. Undoubtedly the guy is great, but the east is not yet to the point of dealing with the questioning of authority. Their issues are different from ours. After living five years in Asia, I think I can safely say that generally they accept power structures. They are fascinated by our parliamentarians antics, and cannot figure out why Pauline Hanson wasn’t thrown into prison.

Our western response is either to rely on the antiquated centrally driven churches, including the big global one where they speak Latin. Or to develop modern versions using the same sociological principles, only they speak Oprah. And both are in trouble.

You see, here in the west, nobody quite knows what to do. Because it can’t be done. Institutions do not dismantle themselves.

Conversations on hell

Tue, 08 Jun 2010 10:45:13 +0000

Conversations on hell with modern clerics

One night after I had done a lot of reading about the concept of Universal Salvation, I decided I want to discuss the topic at this evening group I go to. About eight or so people in this group. The leader is always telling us we should feel free to bring up any topic we like. Nothing is sacred in this group. His name is Colin.So I ask the group, especially Colin, if I can discuss this topic I have been thinking about. Without telling him the topic.

‘Absolutely,’ says Colin, gesturing with his hands.

‘It is a controversial topic,’ I say.

The interest of the others is quickened, and Colin is not perturbed.

No, go ahead, that is what this group is for,’ he reiterates.

I start to feel nervous. ‘I mean it is quite an argumentative topic. It may cause dissension.’

But their curiousity is up now. ‘Please go ahead,’ several chip in.

I pause. ‘Okay, but I will keep it short, and we will just look at a few verses in the Bible to lay out the thing.’

Colin is very relaxed, this is what he is hoping this little group will do, feel free to discuss anything.

‘The topic is one that is called universal salvation. Now I’m not saying it is true now, I am merely saying I have been looking at it for a while, and it is a very interesting one.’

I can’t swear it, but I feel a stiff silence has suddenly descended. Could be just me. I push on in the still atmosphere. ‘I am going to get several of you to read verses out of the Bible that tell us how everyone in the world ends up being saved by the work of Christ. Everyone.’

‘Sandy, you first, your verse is Isaiah 45:22.’

I give everyone in the group one of the following verses to read.

Isaiah 45:22
“Turn to me and be saved,
all you ends of the earth;
for I am God, and there is no other.
By myself I have sworn,
my mouth has uttered in all integrity
a word that will not be revoked:
Before me every knee will bow;
by me every tongue will swear.

I tell people to take notice of words like ‘every’ or ‘all.’

John 12:32. Jesus said, “But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself.”

1 Corinthians 15:22. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.

Phillipians 2:10. that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

1 Timothy 4:10. (and for this we labor and strive), that we have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, and especially of those who believe.

The silence is deafening as they finish reading their verses. I am aware of this, but force myself to bring my piece to a close. ‘We’ve only looked at a few of these verses, but they do seem to suggest that all men will be saved don’t they? Like I mean that eventually the love of God through Jesus is so great that it will totally overcome evil. And the devil gets nobody in the end.’

‘Any thoughts on this,’ I ask.

The floodgates immediately open. From Colin. ‘This is a classical mistake of taking verses out of context. If you look at verses like this without reading the context they are placed in, then this is how this fallacious type of thinking can emerge.’

Bryan, you silly fool, I tell myself. You should know better.

Bill chimes in from the other side of the room. Bill loves controversy. ‘Why, what has Bryan said that is wrong? He just read some verses out, and tried to start a discussion. Now we are getting told at the outset he is wrong without even examining the topic.’

Colin is in full flight. ‘I had to deal with this sort of thing at Bible college. These modern professors with all their liberal theology. The Bible is very clear on the fact that there is a heaven and a hell, and that the unsaved are going to hell unless they repent. I will not allow this group to be exposed to such heresy as is being suggested here.’

Oh boy, oh boy, I lean back in my chair. Should have shut up son, should have shut up. Keep your opinions to yourself.

But Bill is at his throat like a tiger. His blood is up. ‘Look, not five minutes ago, you were telling us that anything could be discussed here, and now an interesting topic comes up. Suddenly it is out of bounds. Let me ask you this. Are you saying that if a baby is born to unsaved parents, and then dies before it reaches the age of understanding, that baby will go to hell? Is that what you are saying?’

Colin pauses. He is trapped. But he commits. Courageously. ‘Yes.’

Bill explodes. ‘You may be entitled to your opinion, and I will be entitled to mine. I cannot believe that a God of love would do that.’

I hardly say a word for the rest of the evening. But tempers flare up and down. Eventually the host phones the Pastor for an opinion. I’m thinking, well this is Christendom yesterday and today. You want an authoritative answer, ask the clergy.

He comes back with his answer. ‘Peter says it is another of those AFLs. Awaiting Further Light.’

Oh, you religiously correct animal Peter, I murmur to myself, unsure whether I admire or despise his one liner.

I try it again. I want to discuss this topic. I want it public. I am a guest at a large house, sitting with the hostess, and a younger man. He is leading an evangelical team. We loosen up awhile, then I broach the topic.

He leans back. The lean contains the feel that he has an intelligent person in front of him, that he should be calm here, and lead me through the mire of strange opinions I have. All that in one lean. The brain is marvelous isn’t it, sensing these attitudes which may or may not be correct, but seem to fit the occasion.

‘I can understand how you feel on this one Bryan.’

Whoa now, that’s my line. This guy has been Dale Carnegied too. Watch it.

‘I think none of us would be human if we didn’t ask that question of ourselves. None of us want our neighbours or friends to go to hell.’

Oh, that is good. Laying out the baited lines, agreeing with me. He must pounce soon.

‘You know Paul never mentions the word hell once’, I inform him.

‘Correct. That’s not where the problem is. It’s Jesus who talks about hell a lot.’

‘True, but some commentators feel he is talking about a hell on earth that people lead themselves into.’

‘I concede that, but we need to look at the general breadth of understanding of the church over the centuries. The church, and theologians in general, have taken the topic seriously and believe that the Bible does point towards a distinct hell.’

I’m going to get this joker. Didn’t think it would be so easy though. I expected better from him.

‘Surely just because the majority of theologians believe in it doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t be examined again. Plenty of theologians, and the church in general, were against women voting.’

I can’t resist being the funny guy here. In front of my wonderful female host. ‘Of course, that judgement does give them some credibility doesn’t it?’

Polite laughter, but my opposite sees the comment as flight rather than fight. He won’t let go.

‘Yes but you are left with an interesting question then. Why should people commit to Christ if they are going to heaven anyway?’

Gotcha. I’m starting to lose interest already in this conversation. Why doesn’t he read Romans chapter six where that exact question was asked two thousand years ago.

‘If hell is the only reason people should come to Jesus, then we are in a pretty bad state aren’t we?’

He knows he has overstepped, and takes flight again himself.

‘It is a very difficult one for us all Bryan. Take my parents. We have talked with them on numerous occasions about the Lord, but they have not made a decision to follow him. I dearly love my parents and do not want them to go to hell.’

I push him more. ‘We are talking here about a God of love. More love than we could ever understand. A supreme being, bigger than this universe, composed of love. Can you imagine him taking your parents, who loved you, did some good things, did some bad things, lived ordinary lives for seventy years, and then throwing them into a fiery pit for one hundred years. No, one thousand years. No, one million years. No, forever.’

‘I can’t claim to understand that Bryan. That is where faith comes in. I don’t know everything that lies behind the decision making of God. I just have to believe that his action for my parents will be based on love, even though it doesn’t seem like it to me.’

Well, that was honest even if it did sound screwy.

He engages me closer now. ‘You wouldn’t truly be a loving Christian if you didn’t ask these questions Bryan. Every believer would ask the same questions. But the Bible is plain about it.’

He is coming in for the kill.

‘Let’s pray before we get going. Do you mind if I commit us to the Lord?’

‘No, go ahead,’ I say, already feeling there is a manipulating prayer coming, remembering when I was younger and had discussed religion with the Mormons at the door, and they, too, asked if they could close in prayer.

‘Lord, each of us has many questions about how you work, and the nature of heaven and hell. There are many things that are quite difficult for us to understand, quite difficult. I know that I do not have all the answers. We also have friends and families that we love dearly and do not want to see descend into the pit. We pray that we will be fervent and faithful in witnessing to these loved ones, and we ask your forebearance with them. And also with us.

I would like to commit my brother Bryan, with his questions, to you. I pray that you would guide him into a clear understanding about these matters, that you would enable him to see your plan for mankind. We commit ourselves to you. In Jesus name, Amen.’

There is no need to extend the conversation. Why could he not analyse his own words? That if God works in Christians lives, and Christians cannot understand how God can chuck innocents into hell, perhaps God is telling them something of his nature?

But he was such a nice young man. He was so genuine.

I am talking with a lady now. She has been married and divorced twice. Can’t seem to make it in relationships. And she knows why. When she was a young child, she was sexually abused for three years by one of the elders of her conservative church. She had no-one to talk to, nobody to open up to. The situation was out of her control. Her compensation in later life is to create controlled situations for her social and relational life.

She knows she does it, but cannot change. Her marriages fail due to her attempts to manipulate controlling situations. Counselling and indepth therapy have revealed all this to her. But it is too deep to alter.

She looks forward to the rest of her life in loneliness. Her hackles rise when she hears of acts of love being performed by Christians. There is a block against the church.

Who can blame her?

Who can say to her, ‘well, it doesn’t matter, you should turn to Jesus despite these experiences.’

Who could condemn her to an eternity in a fiery pit for circumstances like this? She is enduring a version of hell on earth as it is.

Here is an older man listening to me. He is well respected nationwide as an advisor to young leaders in the church. I hardly know him, but am sharing my deepest feelings with him. He listens. Without comment. He is a loving man. He empathises with me. I can feel his strength. Here is a man who would always listen, who would weep with you.

Later that evening we talk again, on more general topics in a group now. One of us asks him how he feels about Moslems. He works in Islamic countries sometimes.

‘There is something about their religion that is disturbing, the violence. I simply cannot see how religion can lead anyone to do some of the things the Taliban do. Incredible cruelty.’

My attitude changes from that morning. ‘Sounds a bit like the Christians during the Crusades,’ I venture.

‘Oh, you’re right, there are many things that we in the church have to answer for. Our history is nothing to be proud of, you can be sure of that.’

I press on again. ‘In fact it must be pretty hard for some people to come to Christ, what with all the garbage the church has thrown up over the centuries. All the divisions.’

The word division reminds him of a story. ‘You know, the other day I got a call from a colleague who asked me to speak at a rally with John Brownley. Thing is, John once said from a stage in front of five thousand young people that he would never be seen on the same platform as someone from the Uniting Church.’

He laughs at this. ‘Anyway, old John has changed. Joins us at the ecumenical meetings. We have Anglicans, Presbyterians, Wesleyans, Baptists and other denominations there. Even Catholics. Times have changed.’

I lean back in despair. Here is a respected leader, an advisor to up and comers nationwide, congratulating himself that he meets with Catholics these days. That progress is indeed being made. The vast irrelevance of denominational settings, of religion itself, overwhelms me temporarily. Is this where we are at? The world has more civil wars than ever, millions still starve, Aids is rampant in Africa, but well, you know, I’ve got some Catholic friends. God must be pleased with that sort of momentum.

But he is nice.

He is so nice. I can’t even blame him for his conservatism. He has suffered the non-thought of church committees, of religious conferences, of tentative conversations where niceness prevails, where the boat can only be rocked a little, where fiery young man are politely listened to, knowing they will eventually come down to earth and be doormen, handing out hymnbooks on Sundays.

On my wall is a painting by Rembrandt – Jeremiah lamenting the fall of Jerusalem. It was unthinkable in his day, as the demise of the institutional church is today. Or is it?