essential agreement

As a result of various Facebook conversations taking place that pose questions about the appropriateness of my ministry as an atheist within The United Church of Canada, I’ve been asked by Evan Smith, who is in the process toward ordination, to address the issue. Here is her question, followed by my response.

Hi Gretta. I hope things are well for you. I’m sure you know this but if not, three times recently there have been lengthy facebook debates on various sites about what it means to be an atheist church leader. I keep wondering in these posts the same questions, and because everyone is having this conversation without you, you never actually get a chance to reply. So I’m gonna be the one to ask you the question. I am wondering and feel free to disregard this, feel free to think I’m annoying and whatever, but my question is, as a minister and an atheist, how do you find yourself in essential agreement with the statements of faith? I am not trying to attack you, I am partially curious just because this is something I have been thinking about a lot as I go into my final interviews and in a period of five years have moved from being agnostic to having a high Christology, but it is also something that I don’t want to talk behind your back about as a colleague. Sorry in advance, I don’t know how you will react to this message, but with all the accusations on these conversations about how we should just ask you, I thought maybe I just would. Peace and blessings, Evan

And now, my response: Thanks for your straightforward question, Evan. The answer, I’m afraid, isn’t so simple as there are so many facets to it and they all hold together; without all of it, the answer is incomplete, so please indulge me.

When I was ordained, it was (and I think remains) beyond my power (“ultra vires”) to state that I was in essential agreement with the Statements of Faith; the Education and Students Committee of Conference had to determine if candidates were in essential agreement and, if the committee was so convinced, to present the ordinands to the Conference to be voted upon. The doctrinally drenched questions you will need to answer many excellent leaders from entering the United Church because they can only be answered guilelessly if one believes in a strictly theistic interpretation of God. I lament that those who cannot answer the UCC’s 2007 ordination questions because of the theistic language inherent in them will not be working with you and me to create and nurture places of belonging for those Canadians who, regardless of their beliefs, might otherwise look to the UCC for a “spiritual” home. I lament that many who read the arguments taking place on Facebook find themselves excluded from the church in ways they never imagined they would be. The concept of a theistic god is one that I was encouraged throughout my childhood, my theological training, and my ministry, to wrestle with and, for the most part, discard. (This should not be a surprise, raised as I was with the New Curriculum in Sunday school and studying contemporary critical scholarship at seminary.) At the same time, I was given metaphorical understandings of religious terms such as “god” and stories such as the resurrection that helped me make sense of religion and my world. I have come to believe, however, that using theistic language metaphorically without disclosing that you are doing so is a form of dishonesty in which I no longer wish to participate, fluent in it though I once was. And simply saying that God is a metaphor without saying what it is a metaphor “for”, if not dishonest, is at least lacking in clarity. As an atheist, I do not believe in a theistic god called God and, although I did as a child, by the time I reached theological college, I was hungry for another interpretation of the concept. There I found not one but several and a permission to create and mould my theological understanding as it suited the context in which I would be challenged to preach it (Paul). I was astonished when, after a decade of doing so, I found that very few, if any, congregants recognized that my understanding of the concept of god or my interpretations of the stories of the Bible were metaphors for life and the costly love we are, at every turn, challenged to weave into it. When I tried to figure out why no one was “getting it”, it wasn’t hard to find: everything in my services other than my sermons was steeped in a pre-Copernican theology. And it was a fickle theology that could be used to reinforce any number of grievous assaults on humanity, the planet, and ourselves. Indeed, I was ordained at a time when many members of the United Church used that same language and the literal interpretations of the stories we thought we were presenting as metaphors to argue in support of the denial of rights and access to the LGBTQ community. I have seen, as most of my colleagues have, the ugliness that a literal ignorance of scripture can uphold. I could no longer affirm such theology through the use of terms that reinforce it and so began disentangling my understanding of god, the concept of god, from it. Science, anthropology, psychology, sociology, and Biblical history and criticism have offered us the insight that long ago, in order to explain reality and quell our fear and helplessness, we as humans gradually took the highest and best of human characteristics, ideals and activities, constructed an image of a supernatural being, and projected the best (and sometimes the worst) of ourselves onto it. Like us, but not like us, this god was not merely good but wholly good, not merely powerful, but all-powerful, not merely wise, but all-wise. Like us, but not like us, this god could not merely say and do things, but intervene with supernatural power to change things for the better. In my theological education, we were taught to reverse this historical view and take “god” words as metaphors for these very qualities and activities that they originally matched: our highest ideals, our strength and wisdom, our goodness and compassion, and also our capacity to act for good in the world. If, then, god-words, doctrinal words, are metaphors for these vital, human attributes and possibilities, it seems clear to me that we either be perfectly clear each time we use doctrinal terms that we are speaking only as metaphor, or simply use the words directly. Awe, wonder, integrity, connection, empathy, kindness, justice – these are precious and powerful and necessary all on their own – they need no other authority or validation. If the United Church is demanding that its people use metaphorical language instead of direct language to express themselves, then we run the danger of distancing, even alienating ourselves from the millions of people who cherish these values and take part in acts of justice and compassion without using metaphors about the idea of god or the god, God, to describe them. We at West Hill cherish the same values as the United Church has always and continues to stand for. We have chosen to speak of those values directly, not metaphorically. We make no claims for what we do not and cannot know. We honour everyone’s right to hold the beliefs they choose. We want to be about the work that moves us beyond the beliefs that divide to the unity of purpose that will enable us to live with deep respect for ourselves, for others, and for the planet. I believe, as Don Cupitt says in his latest book, that anyone trained in a mainline theological seminary can be nothing other than a sceptic when it comes to the theistic god called God. That scepticism often takes us far beyond the doctrinally theistic God who “calls” you to ministry. I suspect that most of my colleagues could not complete the statement, “When I use the word ‘god’, I mean….” without resorting to non-, post-, or a-theistic language. Often, (as I suspect recently happened in the interview printed in the current Observer) the question is avoided by clergy who are uncomfortable walking too close beside me; their answers would distance them from the classical theism they want to be seen (by their parishioners) to believe. Once you let people know you use the word metaphorically, that it doesn’t mean a supernatural god that can intervene in human affairs or the natural world, it gets challenging. Answering the onslaught of subsequent questions is difficult. I have already heard far too many clergy patronizingly tell me they, too, don’t believe in the god I don’t believe in while being unwilling to tell me “and their parishioners” what they mean when they use that word, and responsibly answering the ensuing questions. Neither have they been willing to admit that the reality of the god they don’t believe in manifests and supports all kinds of horrors around this world and that it continues to be fed by the liberal assent to belief that the Bible is TAWOGFAT. As the liberal mitigation of the power of that god abates with the decline of the mainline church, fundamentalist beliefs, often nurtured by an absence from church (“I don’t need to go to church to be a good Christian”) that has bred a frightening biblical and ethical ignorance over generations, will only grow in strength and that is something I fear; you should, too. I was opposed to the latest remit on the recognition of the various statements of faith as subordinate documents. My perspective did not prevent (or even influence) the conversation my congregation had which led them to vote in favour of the remit. My concerns were that the discussion at GC was pre-empted by John Young’s motion which, in my opinion, circumvented the initial intent of Saskatchewan Conference’s petition. They had argued that the language and theology of the Articles of Faith of the Basis of Union were no longer representative of the beliefs of the denomination’s members (or what was being taught in theological seminaries) and were hampering the ordination process for those who believed differently. But the motion Young made argued the primacy of the Bible, something we, as a denomination, had refused to acknowledge a decade or so before. Young, and those who helped him frame the motion, were inserting into our theology a more rigid and orthodox doctrine than the denomination had embraced in practice in some years. That they framed it in a motion that suggested it was a “progressive” step and travelled the country to reinforce that, assured its success. It could be argued that the Bible is now established as the authoritative document of the United Church; however, since that belief was something originally only recognized in what we have since proclaimed a “subordinate” document, it is as trustworthy as the Bible being the only source (beyond personal “interpretation” of experience) for any proof of God. Because I can easily come up with a definition of the word “god” that would allow me to use it as many of my colleagues do, that is, without any compromise of my lack of belief in an interventionist deity, I could easily resurrect my use of theological language and use it to share my perspectives on the world, personal realities, politics, economics (Jesus against Caesar or Empire as Dom Crossan would put it) and be easily affirmed as being in “essential agreement”. I cannot do so because it would be dishonest in that it would allow others to project onto my words things that I do not believe but that are common within their use. We have little time for dissembling. The losses that I believe are associated with the decline of mainline, liberal denominations like the UCC are significant and have been rippling through society for decades. The effects are now growing, mounting like tidal waves and contributing to the challenges communities, nations, and humanity are experiencing. Bringing people together who want to work to oppose these forces is, I believe, what the stories of Jesus were about. Not all of them, of course, but some of them and we only ever use some of them, basing our interpretations of Jesus on the interpretations we want to believe are right. (Check out the voting procedures for the Jesus Seminar or any other process that seeks to remove subjectivity from outcomes. Or, think about leadership skills and promise me you won’t model your relationship with your first Board on the relationship Jesus had with his disciples, calling them all sorts of names and expressing exasperation with their stupidity! We all pick and choose and it is wise to do so.) Whether they came from an individual, were woven around much older, Hebraic tales, grew out of ancient Egyptian mythology, were infused with Platonic thought, or were, as has most recently been argued, crafted by first century Romans, is of little import to me. Whatever it takes to build community around the principle of love being lived out along the edge of a ragged and complex justice and a deeply empathic compassion is what I want to work toward. If the fact that I do so without using the word “god” or focusing on ancient stories of a man who may or may not have been an intrinsic part of the original telling of those stories sets me apart from the denomination that taught me to think this way, I am both surprised and deeply saddened by that. The West Hill Board and I reflect from time to time (based on whatever challenging decision we may be wrestling with) on the possibility that I or we will be rejected by the United Church. Each time, we have determined that the cost of creating inspirational community beyond the beliefs that divide is such an important element of our work that we must take the risk involved. Providing a language that is barrier-free is the only way to do that and, to date, our decisions have kept us focused on that work. It may not be your work and it may not even be recognized by some as United Church work. But I think it is UCC work in exactly the same way as was the ordination of women, the acceptance of divorce, the advocacy for a woman’s right to choose, the acceptance, celebration and ordination of people of diverse sexualities and gender truths, the breaking of apartheid, the boycott of goods from illegal Israeli settlements, etc., etc., and I hope that the United Church can be a haven for those who are otherwise excluded, exiled, or marginalized by the church because their beliefs are not reflected within the language of its doctrine or who simply want to come together in community – beyond the beliefs that divide humanity – to struggle toward a sustainable future, the right relationships with self, others, and the planet that can be manifest within it, and to be inspired and supported as they do so. That’s the work we are currently about and I will continue to support and nourish that work in whatever way I can because it needs to be done, with or without the god called God, and with or without essential agreement. While some may lose sleep over that, others lose sleep when they hear of United Church ministers tying 13 year olds to crosses and dabbing them with red paint. The UCC is a big tent and those opposed to the work we do aren’t the only ones who sometimes wonder if that tent is too big. Accusations are plenty when it comes to the perception of privilege I and my congregation experience by remaining in the United Church. Some suggest that our building is a benefit we don’t deserve because we aren’t really Christia; others argue I am taking advantage of the United Church’s benefits or remain in the United Church because of my pension. I feel I need to ensure that people are aware that West Hill is not dependent upon the United Church financially. Sometimes, because we attract people who have no church experience or who come from other, more hierarchical denominations, we have to explain that we pay our own bills from donations received from those in the congregation and beyond who support our work but this is not something I would expect I would need to explain to other United Church clergy. West Hill continues to pay its TUCC held mortgage and, as it does so, increases the property holdings of The United Church of Canada, not our own private reserves. We recognize that, should we be asked to leave the denomination, we would leave behind the church building we currently call home but maintain on behalf of the UCC. Quite frankly, we would be better off financially were we to be free of that responsibility. We continue to support the Mission and Service Fund of the United Church recognizing that much of the work it does is work we believe needs to keep happening. We continue to contribute to the medical and dental plan which benefits all UCC personnel and to the pension plan, the payout of which hovers around the national poverty line. All of the contributions to that pension fund (your pension fund) will have been paid directly by me and the people who work alongside me in this work. Clearly, one is not in the ministry in The United Church of Canada for either the salary or the pension. The bigger question for me is not whether or not I am in essential agreement with the denomination or whether West Hill has a right to remain within the UCC but whether the UCC is able to be honest about the dissonance between the education it provides its clergy and that being received by those in the pews. Can we be honest about believing in a metaphorical understanding of god? Can we survive that conversation with our parishioners and supporters? Can we do what William Sparrow, Dean of Virginia Theological Seminary in the mid-nineteenth century challenged his students to do? “Seek the truth, come whence it may, cost what it will, lead where it might”? That is the question that I have because I am betting every day on this denomination and that it has the strength and the courage to be forthright with its members about what we really mean when we use the word “god” and that it will stop obfuscating and so be able to enter into a meaningful and important conversation about what it will take to save, really save, humanity. And it isn’t the god most people think you’re talking about when you use that word, nuanced and enriched as you believe your interpretations are. Whether you believe in a divine, interventionist god or not, we (humans, not Christians) are, when it comes right down to it, the only answer we have to the problems that plague humanity today. I am betting on the United Church being intentional about being in the midst of that important conversation, engaging in it with integrity, providing safe, barrier-free space for it to happen, and celebrating those individuals and congregations that have the courage to work toward such goals. If the UCC breaks faith with that work – work in which it has been engaged throughout the whole of my life – because it chooses the reinforcement of exclusive doctrine over that important and costly work, it will be I who will have been betrayed, not the denomination. The United Church I love and give my life to is not about defending the faith but about defending human rights and the planet we live on; not about being right but about being compassionate and just and courageous; not about being separate and distinct, but about being engaged and involved; not about requiring uniformity in doctrine but unity in love for one another.