The line of Protestantism to which I belong (my denomination can be identified as "Mainline Liberal Protestant") is in decline. Many Christian institutions are in decline.
Most who know me know that I have spent most of my millennial adult life studying religion in both secular and religious institutions. I worship in a Protestant community. My immediate family does not practice religion, while my extended family are Irish Catholic and Latter-Day Saint (Mormon). All of these diverse traditions influence me, as does my working-class upbringing, my life as a resident of the Bay Area, and a millennial who grew up amid tech changing the world I lived in (between San Francisco and the Silicon Valley), and now my life living in a rural community on the outskirts of this urban sprawl.
I'm a weirdo. I know that my identity as a foul-mouthed, Jesus-loving, over-educated, working class radical liberal is a strange place to occupy. I often find myself in the in-between places of life doing some "translation work." I try to explain religious positions to my atheist friends and atheist positions to my religious friends. I try to have respectful conversations with the best friends and family members I have who are staunch conservatives as much as with my revolutionary liberal friends (and most of y'all know where I fall on that spectrum). Somehow I feel this is part of my spiritual calling.
When I started studying religion, I did it out of love. I had no intention of going into church work, but found a passion for something I'd essentially been trying to do in my bedroom with a stack of books and my Bible. When people asked me if I was going to be a nun or something (because women aren't priests, lol), I explained my love for studying religion but that I didn't feel called toward ministry.
About 10 years ago, I had an experience that I would express as a call to ministry. I excitedly composed an email to a pastor. I would describe this feeling as finally seeing something that had been in front of me for so long. It was like something written on dust on a panel of glass... I kept looking past it, refusing to see what was clearly in front of me. As my focus shifted, I was able to see something I hadn't before... my call.
After that night and that experience, I felt a bunch of fear. I no longer felt confident in sharing this call with others, but I started to form a goal of attending seminary. It felt like something impossible, mostly because it costs $$$$ and I was, at the time, working 3 jobs while nearly-dropping out of college. I was supporting myself while living in the city and trying to become my own person.
To fast forward through the turbulence of my young 20s and other formative journeys (dropping out of school, having a number of breakdowns, finding my way out of abusive situations, finding my call, my independence, mental health care, etc), my call has refined itself.
I knew my call was about translation. This work is starting to solidify as my "lasting context" has also begun to solidify, and I have settled into a space I see myself in for the long run. After all, my ministry was going to look different if I ended up smack in the middle of a city... instead, I'm smack in the middle of the mountains.
So here's some of what I believe about the spirit of my spiritual ancestors (what?):
Thousands of years ago, my spiritual ancestors started joining their cultures, peoples, and stories. "We" (humanity) have been struggling to understand this world and the spirit that moves it since our birth. The Hebrew Scriptures collect these stories and journeys and tell the truths of those searching for what matters and trying to retain a legacy for their children... to hold onto that which matters.
Somewhere along that journey, a guy named Jesus showed up. He understood things in a way that many before him didn't. He was a spiritual revolutionary, playing with the scriptures and traditions before him like mud. Sometimes revolution is required and he got that. He started something powerful by embodying something powerful. He tied himself to his cultural traditions and claimed them for his generation and the needs of his time and the people of the world. In the midst of that birth of something new and beautiful, he was abruptly executed.
In the wake of that great, world-shattering tragedy, his followers experienced something. They were reborn in their mission and found something greater. They rose up and re-wrote the story yet again, following the legacy of their leader. They molded their story forward, spreading it with fervor.
As the centuries progressed and people tried over and over to pin down the appropriate way forward, we continue our ancestral journey of grappling with the spirit and stories we are given, the ways they entwine with our histories and present.
The Protestant Revolution began for many reasons in communities that decided a new way forward was necessary. The institution was failing in its own missions and the ways it was telling our stories and interpreting them needed to be rethought (given how those interpretations were playing out in the world and the harm they were doing). The Protestant tradition, in some of its best moments, sparks fire by claiming the tradition as our own for interpretation, as free to the people of God... a message similar to that Jesus guy.
Today our institutions are failing. They fail to speak for and to people like me. People who look like me are not in church. People have different criticisms and stories to tell about this, but here's mine:
We're doing it wrong. Our institutions no longer speak to this world. They speak to a different one. So it's time to get back to the mud of our traditions and breathe new life into them (and yes, that's a Genesis allusion, for those of you who are also seeped in biblical metaphors). Here's my heresy: maybe church isn't the answer.
I know, right? The minister poo-pooing on the church.
I think it's time to break things down and build them back up.
Now, people have different spiritual needs. The church is still working for some people (including me). We need a new way forward, though, because I believe there is value in the stories and people we have held onto through the ages and passed on. We, like other generations, have the right to reform our traditions to meet the needs of God's people.
The church has historically performed many functions in society. They have provided literacy and education, distributed resources, explored the sciences and been entwined in medicine and healing, and provided moral formation. While the church may be failing in some of these roles, our society hasn't necessarily fulfilled these needs in other ways... and I think that's the struggle our generation needs to address.
The loss of the church might mean some good things, like the loss of some damaging patriarchal structures, dogmatic worldviews, bodies that protect corruption and abuse... but it also means some bad things. How do we meet these needs going forward, and what might our spiritual ancestors actually have to offer us in how we answer these questions, even if it doesn't mean "church"?
The mystic, scientist, and academic in me all believe that we can answer these questions.
I'm a pluralist. We don't all need to take the same path.
But it is time to forge a new one.
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