Let me begin
by saying that the blogosphere probably doesn’t need yet another response to
Rachel Held Evans’ article
on millennials and the church, and it certainly doesn’t need one written by
me. I have no deep, innovative insight to bring to the conversation. Neither do
I have extensive knowledge of complex theological concepts. And I especially
don’t have charts, numbers, or studies to back up what I say (mostly because I
hate math).
All of that
being said, lately I’ve read many blogs and articles and taken part in many
conversations (both over the internet and in person) concerning the church, its
teachings, and faith in general. All of these conversations have gotten my
wheels turning, which I count as a good thing. Wheels turning means something
is happening, something is being processed. If wheels aren’t turning it means
something is missing. I process things best through talking or writing about them,
ergo, here we all are.
When I think
of God, our powerful, wonderful Almighty God, I think of complexity. Lucky for
us He has made some things relatively simple for us (emphasis on the
relatively). Thinking of God Himself, though? I’m not sure how anyone could
call him anything other than complex. I find evidence of this in
creation...dynamic, complex, vibrant creation. Every person, animal, and plant
is unique. Things change over time, people change over time, climates change
over time. Creation is the definition of dynamic. And yet it is also
consistent. It’s predictable to an extent. The natural laws, as we know them,
provide order in the midst of chaos. In that I see a hint of God’s
unchangingness (my computer is trying to tell me that isn’t a real world, but
I’m going to use it anyway. Take that, Microsoft Word).
So here’s my
thought: if creation is capable of simultaneously reflecting both the dynamic
and unchanging aspects of its Creator, why can’t the church, the very body of
Christ, do the same? I adore the foreword to C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity because he discusses this in such a clear, yet
beautifully illustrated way. Undoubtedly there are certain tenants of the
Christian faith in which everyone who would call themselves a follower of Christ
must believe. But surely there are also elements of the life lived for Christ
that need not look the exact same for everyone. There are constants, but isn’t
there also room for the kind of dynamic variety we find in creation?
Lewis
describes the ‘constants’ of our faith as “a hall out of which doors open into
several rooms”. Finding one’s way into the hall is of the utmost importance,
but it is choosing a room with “fires and chairs and meals” that leads to the
kind of community I believe God always intended his church to embody. Lewis
encourages us to choose a ‘door’ based not on its “paint and paneling,” but by
asking the important questions: “’Are these doctrines true: Is holiness here?
Does my conscience move me towards this? Is my reluctance to knock at this door
due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike of this particular
door-keeper?’” (xv)
What is
wonderful about this idea of simultaneous unchangingness and dynamic variety,
this great hall and its many rooms, is that it “suggests that at the centre of
each there is a something, or a Someone, who against all divergencies of
belief, all differences of temperament, all memories of mutual persecution,
speaks with the same voice” (xii). We all need to be careful to remember that
it is not the hearth, nor the meals, nor even the other people in the rooms
that bind us together. It is the one responsible for building the hall in the
first place.
So what do
all of these rooms have to do with the Evans’ article and the internet tizzy it
generated? So much of the language and so many of the ideas I read (both in the
article and in responses to it) imply that there are only two rooms in such a
hall: a right room and a wrong one. By all means let’s discuss the goings-on of
our rooms and hall! But let’s leave the arrogance out of it, shall we? Let’s
stop pretending that all of the secrets and truths are hidden in a single room,
or within a single generation. This ‘room’ you’ve found yourself in? It was
inhabited long before you entered, and will continue to be so long after you’ve
left it for an even grander hall. Become a part of what came before you and
help to grow it into something that will stand long after you’ve departed. But
as long as our ‘discussions’ are full of accusations, arrogance, and “you just
don’t understand” statements we will do nothing but tear the room, and each
other, apart.
So let’s
discuss! Remember how there’s space for both the constant and the dynamic? Let’s find common ground in the constant and
recognize in each other the kindred spirits of this royal priesthood of which
we are all, unbelievably, allowed to be a part. Perhaps then we’ll be able to
approach discussions and disagreements (because they are inevitable) with love
and humility. Perhaps then the discussions will produce fruit and greater
understanding. Perhaps we’ll stop pelting the doors of other rooms with hate
and disdain, and start meeting for family dinners in the great room of the hall
we all share.
So you see,
I don’t have any fresh insights into why millennials are leaving the church, or
any radically divergent opinion on whether or not such a phenomenon exists at
all. I have an idea that there’s more than one way of doing things. I have an
idea that there are some things that should be the same for all of us, those
things that are represented by Lewis’ ‘great hall’. I have an idea that the
focus needs to be on bringing people into the great hall in the first place.
From there, with the Spirit and a mentor as guides, an individual can find
which room they desire to be a part of. It shouldn’t be a choice made lightly
or without prayer and careful thought, but it is ultimately a choice made by an
individual. Let’s focus on making sure that, whichever room they choose, they
are welcomed joyously into a community striving to love their God and Savior,
one another, and the world.
All quotes taken from Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, published by HarperCollins in
2001.
