Best Church in Town ?

We had visitors at church on Sunday. A recently retired minister from the North West and his wife were doing the grand tour and, somehow, they ended up in Brazosport. So, they came to worship with us at the traditional service. It was a pleasure to meet them. Lake Jackson isn't really on the tourist trail, except for those who like to visit chemical facilities. It turns out that the minister and his wife had a bit of trouble finding us. Actually, they were told that there were no churches in our area.

Apparently, they inquired at the front desk at their hotel. Could they provide a list of local churches? Of course! Whereupon the clerk supplied a list of 'Church's Chicken's,' which is a popular fast food franchise. So the wife insisted - no, she was looking for a place of worship, somewhere where she could gather with other Christians. But the clerk had no idea what she was being asked for, "I don't think we have any of those in our area," she said.

Now, I've nothing against Church's Chicken, in fact I enjoy going there once in a while. I do worry about someone needing a list of fast food restaurants. Do they need to check them all out? But I worry a great deal more about the clerk, and about the witness of the hundreds of churches in our area. Are we invisible?

The Maytrees

I've always enjoyed Annie Dillard's writing. I read "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" in the late Seventies. She's an intelligent and interesting writer (the two do not always go together), even if, sometimes, she is a little arcane. Frankly, there are passages in The Maytrees over which I simply shook my head. It's not just that the terminology is alien - I can cope with that, I just ignore it, as I do when reading from Patrick O'Brian's smorgasbord of seventeenth century life at sea - it's more that Dillard piles up language in heaps until the sense is smothered. It's still beautiful, but in spite of the words, not because of them. She also has a tendency to tell you what she has been reading, dropping names like a gate-crasher at a party of the rich and famous. Then, suddenly, in the midst of some great debate, usually going on in a character's head, a snatch of quirky prose or a seeemingly random idea catches you unaware. At one point Lou, the main female character is discussing religion with herself. She asks herself why she had never bothered to become a Buddhist. her answer, "High blood pressure. Have you seen how fat Buddha is?" Humor saves Dillard on a number of occasions, when she is in danger of becoming unbearably high-brow, one might almost say 'pompous.' But it doesn't always save her.

The Maytrees is the story of a man and a woman, residents of Cape Cod in the years following the Second World War, who fall for one another. Fireworks follow. The man, Toby, is a poet-cum-housemover. The woman, Lou, doesn't do very much at all, but she paints the sea-shore every now and then. They are blissfully happy, reading 300 books a year, between them. Then Toby displays the stupidity of his sex. He runs off with another woman. For twenty years he avoids his old hometown, his wife and son, until events conspire to send him home. There are two death scenes towards the end of the book that are beautifully written. In both, raw realism is counterbalanced by mature reflection. The book is worth reading, if only for these passages. There is much to admire in Annie Dillard's writing.

And yet, I regret that she did not allow any of her characters to speak of faith, or of the wonder of creation. Their's is a flat land, populated only by thought, albeit profound. In a brief discussion of religion, Lou dismisses Christianity with disdain (and not a little prejudice). Later in the story, a break appears in the monolithic modernism. It is noted that the later Wittgenstein moves beyond dull empiricism to the neglected handmaiden of philosophy - metaphysics. But no sooner is the door opened than it is slammed shut. No room here for contemplating the divine. The legends of the Mayans and of the Aleuts may illustrate the circumstances of their broken lives, but there is no room for a Hebrew.

It makes me wonder, is this deliberate? Is Annie Dillard simply demonstrating the prejudice of the cultural elite, looking everywhere for meaning except to Christianity? Or, is she hoping that we will notice the omission, and go looking for ourselves? I'd like to think the latter, though I'm not altogether sure. And if this is what she is about, then she may need to plant more obvious signposts along the way.

The Maytrees is a good story, and it is (mostly) beautifully written; but if it points, at all, to a solution to the meaninglessness and emptiness of the lives she portrays, then it does so only by silence, and that is seldom enough.

La Mauvaise Vie

There is some interesting, and stomach churning, news going the rounds today. The French Minister of Culture, Frederic Mitterand, nephew of the late President, has been expressing his support for Roman Polanski. You may recall that Polanski was arrested the other week, in Switzerland, and is awaiting extradition to the United States, where he faces charges of having had unlawful relations with a 13 year old girl. He admits the charges. The incident happened in 1977 and ever since Polanski has avoided the US, or states from which he might have faced extradition. It's been a little nauseating to see Hollywood come out in support of the film maker. Apparently they think it is mean-spirited of the United States to attempt to send Polanski to trial, after all these years. Surely some kind of settlement could be arranged?

Mitterand's involvement may be a poisoned chalice for Polanski. The former TV presenter, documentary maker, and writer, who was appointed as culture minister in June of this year, wrote a book in 2005 called The Bad Life. The title is apt, because in it, Mitterand describes his passion for young, male prostitutes in Thailand. This comes at a time when the French and Thai governments are working together on ways to combat sex tourism.

So, here's a guy who admits to the exploitation of underage children, supporting a famous film-maker who also abused a child. Mitterand describes the actions of the United States, in its attempts to bring Polanski to justice, as "callous and horrifying." Humm!

And so the godless continue to stand morality on its head, calling darkness light while condemning the truth. Here's a thought, though - what would the press and the pampered movie stars have said, if the paedophiles had been priests?

The irony is, of course, that if the Hate Crimes amendment, which has been added to the Defense Appropriations Bill, is approved, and if "sexual orientation" remains undefined, then paedophiles may find protection under law, even in the Land of the Free.

Death of a Denomination. Part 3.

I've been making my way, painfully, through a copy of the May 2009 issue of Reform, the national magazine of the United Reformed Church in the United Kingdom. Having trained at Westminster College, Cambridge, and having served in the URC for ten years, I have a certain affection for my old denomination. But, having been away for sixteen years I can see how the URC has changed. I believe it has moved even further away from its roots.

One of the articles in Reform is entitled "Leave Behind Childish Things." Written by Dave Tomlinson, and based upon his book Re-enchanting Christianity, the article encourages church members to deconstruct their faith, and to reject those parts they don't like. Only then can the journey of rediscovery begin. "Reinterpreting the Christian faith requires us to abandon forever the notion that being faithful to the gospel means preserving doctrinal purity," writes Tomlinson. He then procedes to re-think the virgin birth, the atonement, the resurrection, and eternal life. His approach is clearly universalist; he has no time for either the concept of eternal bliss for the redeemed or eternal condemnation for the damned. "The injustice and grotesqueness of this outlook appears utterly absurd to many people today," he writes. Tomlinson also departs from historic Christianity in his interpretation of the person and work of Christ. "Jesus did not know everything - of course he didn't! Jesus made judgements that were less than perfect - of course he did! Jesus believed things about the world and the universe that we now know to be untrue - of course he did! He was a first century man... Never-the-less, in a decisive way - in and through his humanity - the character of God was manifested in Jesus of Nazareth. And this is what the incarnation proclaims: God inhabiting human life, without in any way violating or abrogating human nature." Tomlinson displays a classic, liberal understanding of the ontology of faith: "For Christians, divine revelation is not finally in a text, a creed or a set of dogmas, but in a person; not in words, but in a living Word."

Dave Tomlinson is perfectly entitled to his opinions, but I don't know how he can pretend that they come even close to traditional Christianity. He may claim the name, but to do so he has to redefine its content to such a degree that the name, like the word, becomes devoid of meaning. I may call my dog a cat as much as I like, and complain about the limitations of language; but until he starts 'meowing' I'll keep on calling him a dog.

Back in the mists of time, when the URC had some sense of itself as a church in the tradition of the Reformation, it understood what it meant to be Christian. There is even a confession of faith in the URC Service Book, taken from the Manual. It reads, "We believe that God, in his infinite love for all, gave his eternal Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, who became man, lived on earth in perfect love and obedience, died upon the cross for our sins, rose again from the dead, and lives for evermore, saviour, judge, and king." Is this the childishness that must be abandonned if one is to reimagine faith? If so, what are candidates for the ministry to be taught, and what should they teach once they are ordained? Environmentalism? Is that the best they can come up with?

Tomlinson's vision is simply a rehashing of ancient heresy. The Ebionites wanted Jesus as Messiah but they didn't want to call him divine. Their beliefs (curiously close to those later propagated by Islam) were rejected by orthodox Christians. Arius made the same mistake, as did the Nestorians and the Socinians. All of them failed to grasp the divinity of Christ, refusing to accept that, in Him, "the fulness of the Deity lives in bodily form" (Colossians 2:9). Placing human reason above divine revelation, they judged both Scripture and Christ. Their modern equivalents are the unitarians, whose beliefs are similarly far removed from the historic tenets of the faith.

When did the URC become unitarian? When did universalism take the place of particular redemption? And when did it become acceptable for the official publication of the denomination to be used to destroy the beliefs unpon which that denomination was founded? No wonder the church is dying. What good news is there left to proclaim?

Tomlinson's article can be found at www.urc.org.uk/What_we_do/Communications/reform/09/may/leave_behind_childish_things