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Friday, July 1, 2011

Wildgoose 2: Richard Twiss.


            I first ventured over to the Coffee Barn to hear Richard Twiss, a Native American ex-evangelical whom I had heard of.  The Coffee Barn venue was where presenters were encouraged to tell their own personal stories.  This is what Twiss did, beginning with his grandparents who were taken from their families at age 5, according to federal policy at the time, and made to attend boarding schools where the teachers and staff attempted to literally beat their Native American language and heritage out of them.  There were horrible documented abuses in these schools for generations.  And, though funded by the federal government, many of them were run by Christian churches.  “This was our introduction to the good news,” quipped Twiss.  It is no wonder that Christianity still gains little traction in Native American communities.  Twiss had little good to say about missionaries and mission-trips coming onto reservations even today.
            Twiss entered adulthood virulently anti-Christian, and got involved in the American Indian Movement in the 1970’s, participating in a takeover of the Bureau of Indian Affairs in Washington.  But then, while under the influence of various chemicals, he had an experience of Jesus Christ which changed the direction of his life.  Having been claimed by Jesus directly, Twiss figured he now needed to hang with other Christians, so he became an evangelical.  But he found that this community also demanded that he reject his Native American heritage and culture.  After a few years of this he left evangelicalism and set out on his own new path of integrating Native American spirituality into his faith in Jesus.  He prefers to call this “the Jesus Way,” rather than “Christianity,” which still has so much bad baggage.  He says he found that being a “Christian” complicated and even hindered the experience of following Jesus.
            Twiss asks where Native or Indigenous spiritualities fit into the story of biblical faith.  For one thing, he sees the Trinity as a radical community expressed in diversity.  The whole of creation beings and ends with diversity.  In fact, unity is only possible where diversity exists.  This is contrary to dualism, which divides the sacred from the secular. 
            Twiss encouraged his audience to repeat the litany, “I am ethno-centric and narrow-minded, with limited vision,” as an antidote to the normal arrogance and self-righteousness of Western Christians.  There are no exceptions.  We absolutely don’t know anything absolutely.  We need each other’s understanding of the Bible.  Until we can come into relationship with those who are different, we can’t know how God is present with them.  In an Indigenous way of thinking, we are all relatives.  And in this confession, Twiss includes all living beings.
            Twiss’ talk was accompanied by two costumed Native American dancers, with recorded music.  He noted that in his tradition, dances are prayers.  He himself ended his talk with a chant in Lakota.    
            

Wildgoose 1.



            Last week Susan and I attended the first Wildgoose Festival, at Shakori Hills, NC.  This was a gathering of people formed by the gospel of Jesus Christ, who are usually identified as “emergent” or “progressive.”  We came from across the spectrum of Christian faith: from evangelical to mainline, from Roman Catholic to Pentecostal, with an emphasis on both social justice and spirituality. 
            When we heard about it, probably last fall, and saw the list of speakers, we immediately signed up.  The presenters included Brian McLaren, Richard Rohr, Jim Wallis, Shane Claiborne, Phyllis Tickle, Tony Jones, Peter Rollins, Tony Campolo, Doug Pagitt, Frank Shaeffer, Diana Butler-Bass, Jay Bakker, and many more.  The musical portion was headlined by Michelle Shocked, T. Bone Burnett, Derek Webb, and Psalters (a wild, tribal band from Philadelphia which we had seen before).  The introductory words:

What is the Wild Goose Festival?
The Wild Goose is a Celtic metaphor for the Holy Spirit. We are followers of Jesus creating a festival of justice, spirituality, music and the arts. The festival is rooted in the Christian tradition and therefore open to all regardless of belief, ethnicity,
gender, sexuality, denomination or religious affiliation.

            We made the 10 hour drive, down the Shenandoah Valley, over the Blue Ridge, and down through central Virginia and North Carolina.  We arrived a day early to set up our campsite and get organized.   The camping was pretty basic: no established sites, just go out in the woods and find a good spot.  We claimed a site near one of the presentation venues.
            As people trickled into the festival, I noticed a wide age-spread, from infants to about as elderly as you can expect people to camp out in the woods.  There were many younger (under 40) people there, which gratified me.  This is the church’s most problematic demographic.  There were also many booths about various social issues, from torture to immigrants to peace to the environment.  And (thank you, Jesus) a beer tent run by a local micro-brewery!
            The festival kicked-off at 4 pm on Thursday.  Our friends from Susan’s church established themselves next to us, and we went to the main stage to hear a gospel choir from Chapel Hill, followed by opening ceremonies featuring some speakers and festival organizers.  The invocation was given by Vincent Harding, an African-American preacher who was an associate of Martin Luther King, Jr.
            There were many, many presentations happening in about 6 different venues, of varying sizes.  So hard choices had to be made.  I elected to go to hear people I was less familiar with.  I am going to summarize some of what I heard, but bear in mind that there was an awful lot going on and I by necessity missed about 75% of it.
            Anyway, I am going to summarize my experience at this fantastic event in the next few blog posts.  I hope it gives you some idea of what this was about.  Maybe you will be inspired to make the trip next year!

Monday, June 6, 2011

De-geographicalization.

The geographicalization of the church was established at the Council of Nicaea in 325.  Each city or region was to have a single bishop and ecclesiastical jurisdiction.  There were to be no free-lance ministers, or meddling by one bishop in the affairs of another.  At the time, this policy was part of the imperialization of the church.  As with government authority, it was assumed that there could be only one church authority in each geographical district.  The fact that the church felt it necessary to make such a rule indicates that prior to the Council there were in fact multiple overlapping jurisdictions.
This system functioned for at least 1500 years.  Though there were competing forms of Christianity in some cities, there was only supposed to be one Catholic jurisdiction in each geographical region.  Even in the Reformation this principle was largely maintained.  Whole countries might stay Roman Catholic, or become Lutheran or Reformed, but other forms of Christianity in each country were repressed, sometimes violently.  There was still only one official church in each country.
After the 17th century, the established State-church system started breaking down in many places.  It was replaced by the system we have today: denominationalism.  Today we are used to having multiple ecclesiastical jurisdictions in the same geographical area.  Only extremist and eccentric groups still claim that their church is the only legitimate one.  It doesn’t even occur to us that there is anything particularly unusual about the fact that a single town will have many different churches: Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Methodists, Lutherans, Baptists, Roman Catholics, Pentecostals, and so on.  Even among the Orthodox, for whom it is specifically forbidden, differences in language and ethnic origin have led to different overlapping jurisdictions in America: Greek, Russian, Serbian, Antiochian, Ukrainian, etc.  So, like it or not, the wider church has in fact been de-geographicalized for many decades.
But within particular denominations, the pretense of being the only legitimate ecclesiastical presence in a given region has been maintained.  Each denomination is structured so that there is only one jurisdiction in each geographical area.  While there are a few exceptions to this rule, usually for ethnic and linguistic minorities, for instance, within each denomination there are no overlapping dioceses, presbyteries, conferences, classes, etc.  (Though this doesn’t usually hold at the local parish level.)  These jurisdictions have actual “boundaries.”
Now we are finding pressure building to undermine even this last vestige of the geographical framework.  It started, as I said, as theoretically temporary arrangements with ethnic and linguistic communities within the denominations.  But as denominations buckle under the growing strain of ideological and theological differences within their ranks, some would like to establish non-geographical jurisdictions based on theological commitments.  In other words, some Presbyterians (and I would guess this is true for other denominations) find they have more in common with like-minded sub-groups within the denomination, than they have with the broader denomination itself.  Rather than continue to try and work together with other Presbyterians with whom they have disagreements, some are expressing the desire to have their own non-geographical presbyteries, based on their common views.  (This would avoid the trauma of actually pulling out of the denomination altogether and forming their own ecclesiastical jurisdiction.)
The practice of wedding ecclesiastical jurisdictions to geographical areas has positive and negative effects.  The obvious downside is that it tends to enforce unity from above and stamp out variations.  This was the point when this system was established in the 4th century: one Empire in one geographical area required one religious authority.  This understanding still rules in our polity, and majorities in some presbyteries can and do attempt to enforce unity by keeping out ministers who hold divergent views.  
But in our context the geographical church also has the value of encouraging if not compelling conversation and negotiation between the different groups that happen to occupy the same geography.  This has often meant that the denominational structure in a given area was more balanced by the influence of minority views.  The minority might not have many victories, but their voices were heard and their influence felt.  Possibly the will of the majority was modified by their presence.
One problem with non-geographicality is that it can creates ghettos or silos of like-minded people.  It becomes easier to veer into eccentric theologies and practices, not having any counterweight to their views in the regional system.  Furthermore, like denominationalism itself, unmooring the church from geography can also lead to ever more specific and arcane differences being emphasized, and ever more specialized non-geographical entities.  While it may seem beneficial at first to divide into conservative and liberal non-geographical presbyteries, how long will it be before we have different kinds of liberals and conservatives breaking off again.
Another difficulty with moving to non-geographicality is that the divisions within denominations are not always so absolutely drawn.  Thus there are evangelicals who also believe in social justice, liberals who adopt contemporary worship, and so on.  The idea that having a non-geographical presbytery is going to alleviate the tension between different views is probably unfounded.
And finally we also find that congregations themselves are not theologically or otherwise monolithic.  If a majority pulls the congregation into a non-geographical presbytery based on their own commitments, what happens to the minority that was happy to be in the geographical presbytery where there were more people who shared their views?
All that being said, I do see the attraction to a non-geographical arrangement.  I have worked with presbyteries.  I know them often to be often clueless, incompetent, crippled by inertia, hamstrung by vested interested and cliques, and paralyzed by the sense of having to please, include, or get the approval of every faction and squeaky-wheel personality before anything can be done.  It is very tempting for a group of churches to detach from this mess and be free to do mission according to their own gifts and energy.  Frankly, I sometimes fantasize about an “emergent” presbytery where we could move beyond the turf wars and the conventional definitions of “conservative” and “liberal” and organize to do mission in innovative and imaginative ways.
But in the end I think a better solution is to develop more permission-giving structures, give local churches more autonomy, establish more lateral connections between churches instead of the centralized, top-down model, and nurture a polity that not only gets out of the way of local churches, but actually supports them in their mission.
Of course, if we retain the imperialist view that says we can only work with and even tolerate people who think exactly as we do, then we still have a problem.  In the end, that perspective will lead either to each person being their own private denomination, or the tyranny of majorities that try to impose their view on the rest of the body.
Perhaps the ultimate question in all this is: “Where do we find our unity?”  In the end, all Christians share the same geography: planet Earth.  And we share the same Lord: Jesus Christ.  Within those two constants, we are going to have to deal with, and even celebrate, a broad diversity of opinion and practice.  I know this is a benefit for the survival and spread of Jesus’ Way.  
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