The Fellowship of Presbyterians Meeting In Minneapolis: A Review of the Literature

On August 25-26, 2011, a group of somewhere between 1,900 and 2,000 conservative, evangelical pastors and lay leaders of the Presbyterian Church (USA) met in Minneapolis mostly to talk about the future.  After decades of often acrimonious debate and intense politicking on the issue of the ordination of homosexuals, the anti-gay wing of the church has finally lost the decisive votes in the battle.  The 219th General Assembly, meeting in Minneapolis in July, approved Amendment 10-A to the Form of Government, which amendment dropped the formal requirement that all those ordained to offices of the church must either be married in a traditional marriage or remain celibate.  The point of the old wording was explicitly to exclude homosexuals from ordination.  Subsequently, the required majority of presbyteries also voted in favor of Amendment 10-A, and it has now become part of the Form of Government.  Officially, nothing at all is said about the issue of homosexuality and ordination, and some claim, rather lamely, that "nothing has changed."  Evangelicals, however, feel that "everything has changed."  They now belong to a denomination that allows the ordination of homosexuals to the offices of teaching elder (clergy), elder, and deacon.  While there will still be battles to be fought in some of the presbyteries over this issue, the national battle is over.  No one seems to think otherwise.

The anti-gay faction finds it difficult to live with this loss.  The vocal leaders of the faction feel that the denomination's collective decision is unbiblical, unethical, and violates two thousand years of tradition.  They also feel that this vote is only the tip of the iceberg.  It offers only further proof that there is something fundamentally "wrong" with the PC(USA) that cannot be fixed.  They now realize that it is futile to go on fighting political and legislative battles.  Something new has to happen.

That something new may be the Fellowship of Presbyterians, a self-styled movement initiated by seven tall-steeple pastors who serve large churches mostly in the South and West.  It was the FOP that called for the Minneapolis meeting, which its organizers say was far larger than they had initially expected.  The question in Minneapolis was, what next?  I was not there and what follows is an analysis drawn from a variety of reports, comments, and evaluations by participants and reporters totaling 22 items dating from August 25th through early September, which were generated by the meeting.  The goal of this review is to pick out and comment on some of the major themes in this literature.

One thing rings true throughout the commentary on the Minneapolis meeting, namely that the evangelical wing itself is far from unified.  Some intend to stay in the PC(USA) whatever, some are going to leave whatever, but many are not sure exactly what to do.  Recognizing this diversity, the FOP organizers are proposing four evangelical alternatives.  They suggest that some will want to continue to witness in their presbyteries.  They feel "safe" in their current situation as is.  Some will want to organize separate presbyteries of like-minded evangelicals.  Some will want to form separate structures of ministry within their presbyteries.  Finally, some will opt out entirely.  In all of these cases, the FOP leadership aspires to create FOP to be a "new reformed body" (NRB), which can serve as a new denomination for some and an umbrella group for others.  It is even proposed that some PC(USA) churches might be affiliate members of one body and full members of the other.  It has to be said that the dominant public voice of the Minneapolis consultations was largely not in favor of choice one, that is to go on going on.  The clear preference was a greater or lesser degree of separation from PC(USA).

FOP adherents believe there is something seriously wrong with the denomination.  Many of them feel that it has lost its theological underpinnings and forsaken a consistent orthodox adherence to the Bible.  Frankly, the progressive wing of the church has taken over, and while the FOP leadership doesn't want to engage in name-calling and judgmental rhetoric, it is clear that they believe that the progressives are taking the church in a direction that is not faithful to Christ or scripture.  They blame the liberals for the statistical and spiritual decline of the denomination, referring repeatedly to the continuing loss of membership as a clear sign of failure—and a loss of God's favor.  The FOP wants to be, in contrast, a movement that is evangelical, orthodox, truly Reformed, and morally sound.  Its founders envision the fellowship as a "missional" movement that emphasizes the local church and developing local leadership.  They want to keep it from becoming centralized and bureaucratic, which is how they view PC(USA) today.

So, again, the question in Minneapolis was one of putting flesh on the bare bones of these hopes and dreams.  There was, however, one decision was not left to the folks meeting in August.  The FOP coordinating group had already decided to call what it labels a "constitutional convention" in January in Orlando, Florida.  The group has, it says, laid the legal groundwork for transforming the "empty warehouse" of FOP into a denomination.  The Orlando meeting is also a time when the FOP leaders can prepare overtures for the 2012 General Assembly, which meets in Pittsburgh.  The plan seems to be to create a dual structure for FOP, as a full denomination for some churches and a shadow denomination for others—to allow some evangelical churches to separate from PC(USA) entirely and others to live a separate life within the denomination.

For those of us who identify with the progressive wing of the Presbyterian Church, what do we make of all of this?

To be honest, if feels like more of the same 'ole, same 'ole.  The fundamental issue has always been that evangelicals invest themselves in their doctrines in a way that progressives do not, and there lies a chasm across which we do not seem able to communicate or even reach out to each other.  Each side is sincere (well, mostly) in their understanding of the faith, but as one FOP participant put it, both sides use the same words but they mean different things by them.  Our evangelical brothers and sisters cannot abide the fact that, as a rule, progressives don't believe in an exclusive gospel or that there is a set of essential doctrines upon which our salvation hinges.  Progressives tend to believe in a universal salvation, and evangelicals most certainly do not—as a rule.  As another participant put it, where liberals view homosexual ordination as a matter of liberation, conservatives mostly see it as caving in to the values of the world.  Evangelicals tend toward literal readings of the Bible; progressives do not.  The list of fundamental differences that apparently cannot be reconciled goes on and on.

If the history of the Presbyterian Church since the 1870s is any witness, these basic differences are not going to be reconciled in our generation any more than they have been in previous ones.  If anything, we're getting worse at compromise and reconciliation, not better.  In this regard, it is worth noting the different strategy these two wings of the church use to gain their ends.  Both want a more Christ-like church, according to their understanding of what that means.  Liberals tend to stick with the church, pushing and prodding it to change.  Since they don't believe in a "pure church" or that their salvation depends on a doctrinally correct church, they see no need to leave—unless, of course, they eventually get discouraged and give up on the church entirely.  Especially since the 1960s, evangelical Presbyterians have chosen a different strategy.  They reform the church by leaving it to establish (or join) purer, orthodox, "Bible-based" denominations.  Progressives stay.  Evangelicals leave.  Each side does so, seeking a more Christ-like church.

Now, to be fair, many evangelical Presbyterians have stayed with PC(USA) in hopes of its reformation as a more Christ-like denomination, and evidently many of those who attended the Minneapolis convention intend to stay now.  Some want to continue to witness to the larger denomination.  Some feel secure in their situations and see no need to leave.  But many others want, as stated above, some degree of separation from a denomination that they believe is in spiritual decline because it is becoming more and more liberal.  It is, thus, a waste of time for progressives and moderates to plea for church unity, because a goodly number of our evangelical sisters and brothers believe that there are some things more important than unity.  For them, calls for unity are little more than half-veiled demands to surrender.

All of this being the case, a progressive response could well start with a humble recognition that we have been just as ideological, just as intolerant, and just as insensitive as we think "they" have been.  No one is innocent here.  No one is without blame.  Then, as a denomination, it seems best that we say, "We want you to stay, but we will not build degrees of separation into our constitution."  That is, those who want separation need to find places outside of PC(USA) where they feel they can better serve Christ and go there—for their sakes and ours.  They and we will both be weaker, less able to serve Christ in the ways we believe best, if we try to build into our denominational structures separate but equal spaces (presbyteries, committees) for evangelicals.  Imagine the ongoing turf battles, the possibilities for misunderstanding and working against each other at cross purposes!  It is sad to say this, but given the fundamental and evidently irreconcilable differences between many of us, it is better to recognize that we can't live together peacefully in the same house and in spite of our common faith in Christ and need to separate (as we've been doing for decades anyway).

There is at least one thing, however, that I personally confess that I don't understand.  In the literature and reports coming out of Minneapolis, FOP's leaders repeatedly affirmed the ordination of women and the full and equal participation of women in the life of their churches.  What I don't understand is this: a number of passages in the Bible clearly, unequivocally deny woman that status.  Women are to be silent in the church and when they want to understand something they are to ask their husbands.  Yet, the FOP challenges homosexuality and the ordination of homosexuals because these things are "against the Bible."  So is ordaining women.  And, truth be told, the scriptural warrant against homosexuality is weaker, in spite of all of the claims otherwise.  The case against women is much stronger.  Yet, evangelicals who accept the ordination of women have fought a massive rearguard action against ordaining homosexuals.  It's as if there's something else going on here.

The emphasis in Minneapolis was on change, reform, new directions, and at least one document stated that FOP advocates "a radical change" in the way churches do business in the PC(USA) and/or in the proposed new reformed body.  One of FOP's leaders stated, by way of contrast, that the fellowship's proponents would have felt more at home in the old PCUSA of the 1950s than they do in the PC(USA) of today.  That is an astute observation, one that suggests that the "radical change" FOP proposes is retrograde change, change that would take the churches back in time to what is perceived to be a happier and more faithful time when Presbyterian churches grew almost as a matter of course.  Now, of course, no one in the FOP movement actually thinks that they can go back or that it would be a good thing to do so, but the truth is that FOP wants to create conditions either in or outside of the denomination that virtually deny the long, difficult debate over homosexuality ever took place.  They want to take the church back to the 1870s and erase the whole modernist-traditionalist controversy that has consumed Presbyterians lo these many generations.  The change they seek is radically retrograde, and the simple fact is that the majority of Presbyterian leaders today are not willing to go back.

It is also ironic that the FOP in its quest for change seems to be pursuing the same old tactic Presbyterians have used for decades now—revamp, reorganize, rethink, and reconfigure the structures of the church.  Change the structures.  Set up alternative structures with new titles, new manuals, and new ways of doing things.  So much of the constant restructuring the various Presbyterian denominations have gone through over the decades has been a waste of time and none of it has inspired more effective and faithful local church ministry.  One would think that the best course would be for those churches who are seeking new missional direction to just get on with it instead of going through all of this organization stuff again.  In the same manner, FOP plans to write a new statement of essentials, which will define clearly where it stands.  So, as traditionalists, why not simply go back and reaffirm the Westminster Confession of Faith and get on with being missional churches?

The point is that underneath the entirely sincere calls for significant change one detects virtually no change at all.

And that is sad.  In 2001, the 213th General Assembly established a "Theological Task Force on Peace,Unity,and Purity of the Church" with a mandate to develop and model a process for talking with each other across our theological differences. After five grueling, exciting years the task force of 20 individuals, representing all of the voices of the church, presented a final report, and members of the task force fanned out to presbyteries to sell it. One of them addressed a meeting of Lake Huron Presbytery, Michigan, while I was a member of that presbytery. He said that going into the process he had been a theological conservative and coming out of the process he remained a theological conservative, but with a difference. Over the course of long, intense discussions with progressive and homosexual Presbyterians, he came to understand that they "loved the Lord" just as much as he did.  In particular, he said that he had changed his mind about homosexuality and the ordination of homosexuals.  Behind the labels of "gay" and "homosexual" he discovered real people who professed a real faith.  But, what impressed me the most in his presentation was his sad observation that since his change of heart other conservatives had come to consider him a traitor.  He had sold out to the other side.  He lost friends as a result.

After going on 150 years of bickering and fighting in the Presbyterian Church, the sad thing is that we have learned nothing.  We continue to cripple the gospel with our divisions.  And the truth is that some of those who trumpet their faith the loudest and cling to their doctrinal and moral standards most tightly bear at least as much responsibility as anyone else, if not more, for our failure to learn.  FOP?  NRB? It is just the same 'ole, same 'ole.

Polkinghorne, Belief in God in an Age of Science

A book review of John Polkinghorne, Belief in God in an Age of Science (Yale University Press, 1998).

After Coyne's the determinedly one-sided presentation of the relationship of science to religion (see the RPK review here), John Polkinghorne's Belief in God in an Age of Science comes as a breath of fresh air.  The author presents reasoned and carefully thought out arguments for his understanding of that issue.  As a theologically trained theoretical physicist and Anglican priest, he is an exception that  proves the general rule that scientists should stick to science and leave theology to the theologians.  That being said, this book is not an easy read especially when Polkinghorne discusses various scientific subjects.  His sentences can be long (60+ words between periods on occasion), and his penchant for ponderous prose sometimes obscures what easily could be stated more clearly.  Polkinghorne tends to use big words where shorter one will do just fine and is guilty of employing jargon at points.  Still, the effort is worth it for those who care about his subject.

Polkinghorne's perspective is that science and theology share a common universe and are "partners in a common quest for understanding" (p. xiv) that universe, which is best pursued by a "critical realist" philosophical approach to both.    While he does not provide a concise definition of "critical realism," he does state at one point,  "In a word, I am a realist.  Of course, such knowledge [of the physical world] is to a degree partial and corrigible.  Our attainment is verisimilitude not absolute truth.  Our method is the creative interpretation of experience, not rigorous deduction from it.  Thus, I am a critical realist." (p. 104)  Critical scientific realism for Polkinghorne rests on our human ability to know the world as it actually is while realizing that we cannot achieve absolute truth about reality.  He also writes, "It is the instinct of a scientist to encourage a trusting attitude towards those insights that afford a satisfying basis for understanding what is going on." (p. 110)  Polkinghorne embraces these same critical realist views in his theological perspective, and he believe that, "The search for truth through and through is ultimately the search for God." (p. 110)  He thus sees numerous parallels between theological reflection and scientific thinking, which encourage him in his view that the two are fundamentally partners in the quest for truth.

The idea that science and theology travel parallel paths to truth is central to the author's understanding of their relationship to each other.  He sees five similar "moments" that each takes in searching for the truth: (1) moments when there is a radical revision of thinking leading to new insights; (2) periods of confusion; (3) moments when a new synthesis and understandings are achieved; (4) a constant wrestling with unsolved problems; and (5) development of new theories that have unanticipated implications (see p. 29).  After demonstrating in some detail how these five moments apply to theological reflection, Polkinghorne states, "To many of us, and perhaps especially to those whose formation lies in the sciences, it seems that there is a considerable degree of counsily relationship between the two disciplines as each pursues its search for truth by means of the quest for motivated belief arising from their two very different domains of experience." (p. 46)

Rev. Dr. John Polkinghorne

In this context, one of Polkinghorne's chief aims in Belief in God in an Age of Science is to defend Christian belief in an age of science by showing that theology is equally as rational, ordered, disciplined, and ultimately fruitful way of studying reality as is science.  There is substantial room for dialogue, and the current tensions between faith and science are unnecessary.  In other words, throughout the book we hear echoes of the lessons learned from his own personal experience as both scientist and a man of faith, and we witness his deep personal concern that science not drown out spiritual concerns that are as real to him as the quantum world he studied as a scientist.  He affirms that theism "presents an adequately rich basis for understanding the world" and that "there is much more to the mind of God than science will ever discover."  That is, "Our moral intuitions are intimations of the perfective divine will, our aesthetic pleasures a sharing in the Creator's joy, our religious intuitions whispers of God's presence." (p. 19)

In his defense of faith and theology, Polkinghorne at times translates theological thought into scientific terms.  He, notably, describes the development of key theology concepts, such as the Christian understanding of the person of Jesus, as being an evolution in Christian thinking not unlike the way scientific understanding of particular phenomenon evolves (see p. 31).  One of the more powerful moments in the book is when the author wrestles with the relationship of God and time, rejecting the traditional theological view that God stands only beyond time.  He draws on insights from process theology to work on the idea that God bounded and not bounded by time (pp. 68-74)

Polkinghorne, in spite of his application of scientific thought to theology at points, is a largely orthodox man of faith who is attempting to chart a middle way (via media) between  the Enlightenment's "modern" penchant for absolutes and "postmodern" relativism.  It is from this middle ground, apparently, that he seeks to reach out in both directions—to skeptical scientists as a scientist of faith and to anti-science believers as a scientist of faith.  Because he has pursued careers in science and in the church, Polkinghorne's Belief in God in an Age of Science is much more successful than Francis S. Collin's The Language of God (see RPKR review here), which is lightweight when it comes to theological reflection.  Polkinghorne understands theological thought from the inside, as it were, which makes his book considerably more compelling—for those who share his general perspective on the relationship of science and religion.

Still, Polkinghorne's middle way is likely to suffer the usual treatment middle ways get, which is to be deplored by those on either end of the spectrum in question.  Thus, the arch-atheist Richard Dawkins confesses that he just does not understand how a scientist of Polkinghorne's quality wants to work in religious "stuff" that "never has added anything to the storehouse of human wisdom, and I don't see that it ever will." (See Dawkins' PBS interview here).  While I have not been able to locate any reviews of Polkinghorne's work by biblical literalists at the other end of the spectrum, it is impossible to think that they would be supportive of his views on such things as God being in some ways bounded by time.

For those, however, who are seeking an escape from  the evolution versus God wars Polkinghorne's Belief in God in an Age of Science provides a welcome reprieve.  His tone is temperate.  He gives almost no time to the warring factions and concentrates, instead, on making his positive case for the compatibility of scientific and theological thinking.  I thus strongly recommend this book to those who want to honestly explore the relationship of faith and science especially if you are willing to work through the heavy lifting of Polkinghorne's style, which isn't the easiest to read.  Unlike Coyne, Collins, or Dawkins, this is not a popular treatment.  It is not easily digested, but it is well worth the chew.