But What if the Church is Wrong?

Ugh!  Okay, here's the problem.  I've been delaying (read hiding,

avoiding running in the opposite direction as quickly as I can--I even considered running this morning in 28 degree weather to avoid this--now that's serious avoidance!) I've been avoiding writing this blog.  I don't want to write this; I don't want to; I don't want to; I don't want to! (Insert toddler tantrum complete with foot stomping) But last night as I lay in bed trying to sleep, I knew that I had to do it.  I didn't want to, but I had to. The weeks of avoiding had to come to an end, but gosh darn I don't want to....

Last month as I was reading Morning Prayer (I'll be honest that day it was in the afternoon...) I read Psalm 40.  I planned to read quickly and move on--so much for planning.  I got to verse 10 and froze--seriously my brain, my body everything came to a screeching halt.  It read, "I proclaimed righteousness in the great congregations, behold, I did not restrain my lips; and that, O Lord, you know."  And my mind started screaming, but what if it's not righteousness we're proclaiming in our congregations?  What if it's self-righteousness?

See why I don't want to write this?  I am a priest in the Episcopal Church; I don't want to believe that I or anyone intentionally or unintentionally uses the pulpit for their own agenda. "Stop," I told myself knowing these thoughts were certainly not going to make me popular among some of my colleagues, "Stop. You're reading this out of context.  That's not the gist of this psalm. It's not what it's saying and you're doing what you're thinking some others do--using scripture inappropriately, out of context or for your own agenda. And I was right--in it's totality that's not what the psalmist was saying, and yet I couldn't move on. So I did what all slightly neurotic people do.  I began to research the actual meaning of "righteousness" (okay, I'll admit it; I became obsessed.  I tried to figure out a way to not hear what I was hearing.  I googled; I read every translation of the Bible I could get my hands on (and as a priest I have many). What I discovered can be summarized in this one sentence by N. T. Wright, "It thus donates not so much the abstract idea of justice or virtue, as right standing and consequent right behaviour within a community."N.T. Wright

It didn't help--in fact, it made it worse. Now I have to think about who gets to decide what's right behavior?  If it's the Church and more specifically those of us ordained to preach the Gospel, what if we're wrong?  There I've said it.  WHAT. IF. WE'RE. WRONG? And further what if we are so darn self righteous (defined as having or characterized by a certainty, especially an unfounded one, that one is totally correct or morally superior.) that we can't see it?

Over the past few weeks there have been many "signs" I have ignored speaking just to this topic or perhaps speaking to me--prodding me to actually reflect on this which means writing on this--reflecting and writing on the possibility, and sometimes the probability, that we can be wrong, misinformed, self-righteous or whatever word we want to use.  

One "sign" came to me in the Presiding Bishop's sermon on All Saints Sunday.  He said, "The truly liberating truth is that Jesus didn't come into this world to found a religion, though religious faith is important. Nor did he establish a religious intuition or organization, though institutions and organizations can serve his cause. You will not find an organizational table in the New Testament. Jesus came to continue a movement.  Actually, Jesus picked up and took the movement of John the Baptist to a new level. John was part of the movement born out of prophets like Amos and Isaiah and Jeremiah. And prophetic movement was rooted in Moses, who went up to the mountaintop. Jesus crystallized and catalyzed the movement that was serving God's mission in this world.  God has a passionate dream for this world. Jesus came to show us the way.  Out of the darkness into the dream."(Presiding Bishop Michael Curry's Sermon)

I keep returning to those words "institutions and organizations can serve his cause," and I also hear, "or can serve their own". I want to belong to an institution, to be part of an institution that serves his cause. I think in order to do that, I have to look critically, along with others, at that very institution.

I'm going to be honest--even as a priest in The Episcopal Church--I wanted to suppress the message from our Presiding Bishop--or at least the message I was hearing. (And believe me I have a very high regard for the authority of Bishops and I personally love this man.) But two things have forced my hand.  The first was yesterday reading Bishop Andy Doyle's (no relation to me, gosh darn it I wish he was) new book A Generous Community: Being the Church in a New Missionary Age. He writes, "As we ponder what the disciples are doing, it becomes clear that they are invested in a closed system. They want to control how Jesus is used, how Jesus relates, with whom Jesus spends time, and who has access to Jesus. Who they think should have access to God is impacted by their desire for control." (p.5-6) Bishop Doyle is talking about Jesus' disciples, but I suspect he could be talking about us--the Church, the ordained and lay leaders of the Church--today.

The second is the faces---the week after reading Psalm 40 and hearing Presiding Bishop Curry's sermon, Louisville Collegiate Schools presented The Laramie Project. It was the story of Laramie Wyoming the year following the murder of Matthew Shepherd. (The Laramie Project) It was powerful, emotional, and incredibly well done.  After every show there was an opportunity for a talk back session with the cast and audience.  Each night a different "professional" was asked to lead the talk back.  I had the distinct honor to be asked to lead the talk back about religious institutions response.

I sat on the stage with these young people as they processed--as they talked about the religious institutions responses then to this event and now to others.  I was so impressed by their courage, their candor, their passion, and I have been haunted by their exhausted, pained, courageous faces and their words.  Here's what I heard...

A senior who is articulate and mature said in a very respectful and serious tone, "I'm an atheist so I have to admit I don't totally get your perspective.  But what I really don't understand is how Christians can just blindly believe what a person in a pulpit tells them is right or wrong regardless of, well regardless of just about anything. How can you not question?"

Tears streamed down one young woman's face as she said, "What continues to haunt me--what I can't get over--what I hate hearing every night-- is the words of the Baptist preacher. 'I certainly hope before he slipped into a coma Matthew had a moment to repent of who he was'.  She looked at me her eyes imploring me to fix this for her as she continued, "How can someone really believe that--really believe that if that didn't happen Matthew Shepherd is in hell?"

The young man who played the Baptist minister said, "Those were my hardest lines.  Because I don't believe them at all.  I feel contaminated every time I say them."

Another young man said, "I am a Christian; I believe in God; but I don't go to church anymore. I don't believe in the Church. It hurts too many people."

And another said, "I think the church needs to change.  Why won't it change?"

I felt so helpless that night, so inadequate, but I had to say somethings, so here's what I did say.  "Sometimes we the Church do get it wrong. Sometimes we think we're right and we're not. But it takes people like you--it takes people who have the strength to question, to think--to help us.  Because here's the other thing--I'm a priest in the Episcopal Church.  I love being a priest in the Episcopal Church; I love proclaiming the Gospel, but I am not "The Church".  You all--all of you are the Church and your voices need to be heard. You are part of what can bring change. I don't have all the answers; you don't have all the answers; together maybe we can move forward to find answers. But we need to have conversations.  Y'all putting on this show started a conversation, and I suspect no one who has seen or will see y'all's work will leave this theater the same."  

And then I reminded them of other lines in the play--the Catholic priest who led the first vigil and said, "I know I probably should have asked my Bishop before I planned it, but I didn't.  I didn't ask because I knew it was the right thing to do. Why should you have to ask to do the right thing?" And the mormon pastor who said about one of the defendants, "The mormon church excommunicated him.  But me, well I'm going to continue to visit that young man. I've known him his whole life and I'm not turning my back on him."

So now I've done it--now I've tried to be as courageous as those students--now maybe I can sleep better, stop thinking about it; now I've blogged my thoughts about Psalm 40:10 and it's impact on me. Now maybe I can move on; now maybe it can be finished.

Or now maybe it can start a conversation.....