Wednesday, November 20, 2002

Fighting the Right War

These days, we are looking at a different kind of war than the one that 9/11/01 inaugurated. Our war on terrorism continues, but a war with Iraq may be just beginning. Fighting both wars at the same time will be serious business. Not so another kind of war I've been reading about.

Steve Smith, of the United Methodist Reporter, wrote recently that mainstream Protestantism is caught up in "theological warfare" between its progressivist and traditionalist branches, and he implies that for us mainliners, nothing less than the future of Christian faith and practice may be at stake. In light of the momentous conversations and preparations about real wars that lie ahead of us in the free world, it's silly if not obscene to describe intra-ecclesial mean-spiritedness by means of war metaphors, even if our disputes rise to the level only of skirmishes rather than crusades. Engaged in a war for the integrity of the church's faith and practice? They've got to be kidding us.

But then again, maybe not. A group called The Confessing Theologians Commission, some of whose members are theological colleagues whom I deeply respect and admire, is stating in the strongest possible terms that there are deep theological rifts in our denominations that root in the preaching of "other gospels" by people who lack both faith and humility. What God is calling us to do, the Commission insists, is to reform our denominations by getting them back to truthful confession of historic Christian beliefs, so that we can once again be about the proper business of the church: Bible study, evangelism, prayer, and caring for the poor and needy.

To all this, our own denomination is responding through an Information Project for United Methodists, whose aim is to "study" present day confessing movements. Study? Not likely. What launched the project is a concern to counter alleged attempts on the part of theological conservatives ("traditionalists," in Smith's term?) to steer the church in their own direction. Because this is so, it might be well to hold ourselves back just a little when the invitation comes to embrace the "information" the Project uncovers for us.

So here we have it: let's straighten out what we believe as Christians, and how we believe it; let's all believe it together and in the same way; and then we'll all be both at peace and in mission at the same time. And if we have to engage in "theological warfare" to accomplish these noble aims then let the noblest among us launch the pre-emptive strike. Wow. Does anyone think, for example, that getting Roman Catholic bishops back to the basics of traditional beliefs will somehow cure pedophilia among their priests?

As if we don't have enough wars to deal with already... And this is the real point. We do have enough wars in front of us right now, and what those who fight them most need from the church is input on how it might be justified to pursue them, for however long they might take. By way of example: neither the war against terrorism nor a future war with Iraq can possibly be justified, from the standpoint of our faith, if the only thing they accomplish is improving the security and life-style of our own people at the expense of other peoples' resources and opportunities. In a word, forget about cheap oil. Instead, concentrate on safeguarding the innocent, the oppressed, and the needy --- those who are at the mercies of other's whims, callousness, and evil.

A while back, many of us were captivated by a wonderfully witty and at the same time stunningly profound question: what if they gave a war and nobody came? Well, we're in one serious war already, and a lot of people keep on showing up for it. Maybe we can accomplish our aims in Iraq without getting into a second one, and maybe not. There is one "war" out there, however, that we can choose not to show up for, the war between people in our churches who have to have it their way or no way. To this kind of war, I hereby declare myself to be a conscientious objector, and I strongly urge everybody else in the church to do the same thing.

There is the old story of the acolyte who helpfully collected his pastor's sermon notes from the pulpit following a church service. He couldn't help noticing one handwritten note in a margin of the manuscript: "argument weak here; shout like the devil." Our so-called theological warfare between progressives and liberals is like an extended marginal note on a lesson plan whose pages are completely blank. Riling up people is easier than teaching them something really important.

Wednesday, November 06, 2002

The Best Alternative To School Prayer

When I was growing up, each of my school days (every one of them spent in public schools) began with the Pledge of Allegiance and the Lord's Prayer. However, I never came across a class that might have helped me understand religion better --- my own, of which there was little to nothing, or anybody else's, of which there seemed to be a lot more. Today, the picture is a little different. The Pledge of Allegiance is in; the Lord's Prayer is out; and most kids still study little to nothing about religion.

What's wrong with this picture? For a lot of my Christian friends, what's wrong is that prayer is no longer in it. And they've been hopping mad about the situation for years. I myself still wonder what the big deal was, and is. When I said the Lord's Prayer daily as a kid, it meant nothing, because I had no faith to go with it. When I "got religion" later on, I said it all the time, out loud in the company of Christians, and silently most everywhere else. Is anybody really worse off since the Supreme Court finally told us where to put it?

What's really wrong with the picture is the third element in it, not the second. Too many kids --- and adults --- are functionally illiterate about religion, and our public schools could help by teaching at least our kids and grandkids something about the many religions currently represented in our increasingly pluralistic society. Teaching about religion is something far different from indoctrinating people into a particular faith tradition.

When I ask educational bureaucrats about this, the reaction I usually get is the kind I would expect if I had suggested that the schools advocate legalizing drugs or permitting concealed handguns in the classroom. You would think that religious beliefs can hurt us as badly as pot and bullets can. Actually, there is some validity to this otherwise bizarre view: not knowing enough about other peoples' religions can get us killed just as surely as drugs and guns do.

There is another image associated with the study of religions that I frequently encountered during my years as a college, university, and seminary faculty member. Many students shared with me their hesitance to read about religious traditions different from their own, on the ground that exposure to them could weaken their personal faith. Other religions, they seemed to think, are something like infectious diseases to which we ought to avoid as much exposure as possible. There is a fetching quality about this metaphor. It also suggests that the best way to avoid catching a religion's unhealthy viruses is to expose ourselves gradually to its healthy ones.

I admit that if I were an educational bureaucrat, I would have to acknowledge some very good reasons for caution about introducing the study of religion in our schools. The number of the reasons is roughly approximate to the number of frenzied Christians still tapping on heavily guarded school doors to slip the Lord's Prayer through. If we ever do implement religious studies as a substitute for prohibited prayer, as the Supreme Court encouraged us to do, we can be sure that these folks will create one ruckus after another in the interest of seeing to it that the studies are done "right." That is, their way: monotheism, the 10 Commandments, the Sermon on the Mount, with heavy dollops of creationism in biology classes, and let the rest of the religious world go by.

One thing that school systems do know something about, though, is handling ruckuses. Fending off true believers who would co-opt the study of religion for their own narrow proselytizing purposes should be no more difficult than keeping at bay all those who won't give up on putting prayer back "were it belongs." The worst reason for not offering courses on religion in our schools is the one I read about just recently: " The only thing that teaching about religion will accomplish is just stirring up conflict." Has this guy been to a school board meeting lately?

It is easy to understand and appreciate why parents and religious leaders might worry about kids' learning something about the world's religions on school grounds Some kids will come home less trusting of what they have been told to believe about their own, and of the people doing the telling. As the cliché says, a little learning can be a dangerous thing. A lot of learning, though, especially about religion, can make the world safer and more joy-filled. And that's something that will make the worry worth it.