Them bones, them bones, them dry bones!
When was it that old-style mainline Protestantism died in America—you know, the Protestantism that's been embodied historically by such denominations as Presbyterian, Lutheran, Methodist, Episcopal? Well, it's hard to say precisely when this old-style mainline Protestantism died, but the dry bones of its largely empty 100-year old church buildings certainly do lie strewn in the "valleys" around us, like our own Upper West Side.
I'm inquiring, of course, about the demise of the triumphalist style of mainline Protestantism that was the established, if unofficial, religion of America for our nation's first several centuries—the triumphalist Protestantism into which the nation's elite were born and to which society conformed; the mainline Protestantism to whose colleges and universities one needed to go to receive a first-class education; the triumphalist Protestantism that dominated public school prayers, curricula, and baccalaureate ceremonies; the mainline Protestantism of board rooms and blue laws and political power; the triumphalist Protestantism that seemed to reach such great heights during the 1950's—the era of President Dwight David Eisenhower, that heyday of the National Council of Churches and of the confident building of that skyscraping Interchurch Center at 475 Riverside Drive; the mainline Protestantism into whose sanctuaries people used to crowd, filling even the balconies; the triumphalist mainline Protestantism that understood church and home and school and state to form a kind of national network for the instilling of "Christian values."
When did this triumphalist mainline Protestantism die in America?
Well, each of us may well have our own story about when the demise of this style of Protestantism is to be dated. But I rather fancy the story told by the southern Methodist preacher William Willimon. He has written, with humor [in Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas, Resident Aliens (Abingdon, 1990), pp. 15-16], that it died one particular Sunday night in 1963 in Greenville, South Carolina. That night in Greenville—a city Willimon describes, with his tongue only partially in cheek, as the Western world's last pocket of resistance to secularity—that night in Greenville the Fox Theatre openly defied the state's blue laws by daring to show its movie on a Sunday. That night Willimon and six other Methodist youth, all otherwise regular attenders of the Youth Fellowship at the Buncombe Street Church, made a pact. They would enter the front door of their church, be seen and noticed, but then slip out the back door to join John Wayne at the Fox. Yes, that night the Fox Theater went head to head with mainline Protestant Christianity over who would provide the worldview for the city's youth, and the theater won.
Now this morning, I believe God's taking us by the hand, like Ezekiel, and setting us down in the middle of this West Side "valley" of ours, and demanding of us that we survey our "dry bones." And I believe God's asking us this question, "O ye Protestants, can these bones live? Can these churches of yours be brought back to life?"
Well one thing's for sure! Our brothers and sisters who are evangelical Protestants, sure are busy trying to resurrect the bones of triumphalist Protestantism. They certainly are working hard, all on their own, to reattach to "them bones" some sinews, muscles, and skin, so as to recreate an old-style triumphalist Protestantism as the unofficial established religion of America, one with the full ear and attention of every branch and office of government.
Take, for example, the Florida TV evangelist D. James Kennedy, who heads an organization whose goal is to convert every legislator in Washington into a born-again Christian! Or consider such evangelical Protestant leaders as James Dobson and Douglas Coe and Diane Knippers, whose organizations, taken together, appear to hold much of the Republican Party in their debt.
But I believe that these persons—trying all on their own to reattach to the old dry bones of triumphalist Protestantism their new sinews, muscles, and flesh—I believe that they've succeeded only in transforming the Protestant skeleton into a Protestant mummy. For what they've created, I believe, still lacks the very thing that our Second Lesson tells us these bones most need—not the fossilized heart of that old-time religion but the transforming breath of the living God.
So I believe that the challenge God is addressing to us today goes something like this: "O ye Protestants, what in My name are you doing? For that old-style triumphalist version of your religion is one that's best left dead. No," says God, "the Protestantism I want to raise to new life is of a different kind altogether."
So I believe that the question God's posing to us this morning is this: "Can the bones of Presbyterian and other mainline Protestant churches be revivified for a new and more faithful style of serving and witnessing? Can this set of dry bones right here at 73rd and Broadway live? Can these stones and windows and pews, dating to the 1920's, be brought to life by the breath of God for the 21st century?"
And you'll not be surprised to learn that the answer I believe God is waiting to hear coming back from us is a firm and resounding, "With Your help, O God, with Your help, these bones can indeed live!"
So what kind of a Protestantism, what kind of a Presbyterianism, is it that God wants to bring to new life here, in this place. What is the vision God wants to share with us? What is God's vision for a Rutgers Church revivified for the 21st century?
Well here come the eight points of today's "vision thing" from your pastor, and it's my prayer that they're also coming from God! I invite you to take notes if you'd like, or, if you'd prefer, to contact Jennifer in the church office for either a hard copy or a tape of this vision.
First, I believe God wants to bring Rutgers to life for the 21st century as "an undogmatic church," as one that is deeply rooted in the past yet growing into a different kind of future—a church that gladly proclaims the good news of Christ and is unmistakably Christian, and yet a church that's constantly in search of "more light," that's constantly seeking to grow in God's truth through promptings by the Holy Spirit, through dialogue with other religions, and through conversations with the secular sciences. For we all have so very much to learn from one another. "An undogmatic church."
Second, I believe God wants to bring Rutgers to life for the 21st century as "a purposeful church," as one to which we belong not because of convenience or habit or having been born into it, but because we purposefully choose and actively affirm the mission and goals of this particular congregation and because we purposefully commit ourselves to the work of tending to the needs of this particular "family" of persons. To become this kind of "purposeful" community, all other reasons for belonging—such as convenience, habit, birth—all these must be kept secondary. "A purposeful church."
Third, I believe God wants to bring Rutgers to life for the 21st century as "a wildly inclusive church." The apostle Paul has said that in Christ "there is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female." (Galatians 3:28) And I believe God would have us add to Paul's list, "In Christ there is no longer black or white, rich or poor, gay or straight." Now I know we certainly have a lot of work yet to do here at this More Light Church on welcoming people of color and the poor. And I believe God is further prompting us to go on to say, "In Christ there is neither Methodist nor Presbyterian nor Baptist nor Catholic." And, wow, there's just a whole lot more work to be done on that before we can truly declare that in Christ we are indeed "all one." "A wildly inclusive church."
Fourth, I believe God wants to bring Rutgers to life for the 21st century as "a Spirit-led church," as one that places a high priority on nurturing a person's relationship with God's Spirit through song and prayer and meditation and the study of scripture—a church whose energy and joy and laughter offer continuous testimony to God's intention that the Holy Spirit lead congregations beyond caution and prudence and common sense to risky dreams and startling innovations. "A Spirit-led church."
Fifth, I believe God wants to bring Rutgers to life for the 21st century as "a prophetic church," as one that cries out against social ills, no matter how deeply entrenched or widely accepted they may be—a church actively at work for peace and for justice for the poor, a church willing to take stands over against government and society in order to hold these accountable to the standards of God. "A prophetic church."
Sixth, I believe God wants to bring Rutgers to life for the 21st century as "a servant church," as one that's committed to using its talents, skills, energy, knowledge, and resources not for advancing ourselves but rather for furthering the well-being of all humankind. "A servant church."
Seventh, I believe God wants to bring Rutgers to life for the 21st century as "an equipping church," as one focused on providing to you the laity the resources you need in order to witness to God and do God's will both in your work and in your play. For if the world is ever to be transformed into becoming more and more like what God intended for us to be, then that work will need to happen outside the walls of this church through your lay ministries out there in the "real" world, where the forces of light and darkness encounter and engage each other daily. And for this task, you need a Rutgers Church that will "equip" you.
And eighth and, at least for today, last, I believe God wants to bring Rutgers to life for the 21st century as "a hope-filled church," as one that sees resurrection not only as an individual's rising from the dead but also as a people's coming back to life after being moribund in order ever more faithfully to serve both God and neighbor. Ezekiel assures us that this can happen, that there is "hope."
So can these bones of ours really be raised to new life?
Yes! With God's help, they really can. With God's help, Rutgers can indeed be raised to life in the 21st century as "an undogmatic church," "a purposeful church," "a wildly inclusive church," "a Spirit-led church," "a prophetic church," " a servant church," "an equipping church," "a hope-filled church."
Through the Holy Spirit, through God's enlivening breath, "them dry bones" of ours can indeed be raised to newness of life and vitality.
Let us pray (employing a hymn text by Edwin Hatch, 1886, altered to use plural pronouns).
Breathe on us, Breath of God, fill us with life anew, that we may love what Thou dost love, and do what Thou wouldst do. Breathe on us, Breath of God, till we are wholly Thine, until this earthly part of us glows with Thy fire divine. Amen.