Don Friesen
The Zits cartoon strip in yesterday's newspaper showed two teenagers, the one suggesting to the other that he should get a tattoo.
"What kind of tattoo?" asked his friend.
"I don't know... something that says who you are and what you believe in."
Whereupon his friend draws something that looks like a barbed wire question mark! "Signifying," says the tattoo-ee, "that I'm not sure who I am or what I believe in ... but with attitude!
We're all concerned about identity. If someone asks you to "identify yourself," you might begin by giving your name, perhaps describing the work you do, or your place of origin. In some cultures you might give the name of your parents or extended family, placing yourself on a map of relationships.
"Who am I?" we ask ourselves, and many of us spend a lifetime attempting to answer that question. At my nephew's wedding several years ago I met someone who had an intriguing history and identity; his father was Japanese, his mother was Norwegian, and he grew up in Pakistan! Earlier this year I also met a person who grew up in a Hindu family in India, who attended a Jesuit school, and who married, first, a French-Canadian Catholic woman, and later a Jewish woman. He currently attends Hindu, Christian, and Jewish services.
Identify Yourself!
Questions of identity can loom large, not only for individuals but for communities as well. It's helpful, for example, for churches to identify themselves. Visitors to this church are apt to ask themselves: "Who are these people?" Are they who the OMC Welcome Packet says they are? Are they who their web site purports them to be?
Churches have various ways of responding to questions of identity. Some list their congregation's "core values". Some share their "strategic priorities" and their "mission statement". Some list their programs. Some share statistics, complete with demographic breakdown. Some point to the great architecture of their church building. Some relate their history. Some churches, like our own, identify themselves by their founders. Some wear their denominational banner proudly; others hide it under a bushel. I discovered one congregation that extends a welcome to all visitors but is honest enough to list what they call their "non-negotiables".
Some churches don't bother listing their core values, strategic priorities, statistics or history; their identity is spelled out in reaction to their past. This-and-this characterizes where we came from, but we're not those things! A rather adolescent, over-against identity!
I was amazed to discover how many churches invest heavily in a church logo to convey an identity. Marketing has infected the North America church, and so brand identity has become very important. There's even a magazine dedicated to church branding which identifies itself as the "premiere magazine of the Christian communications industry". (NRB Magazine) Marketers, however, caution churches not to design a logo until they develop an identity!
One church used T-shirts to promote their unique welcome statement, which read:
If those who believe in God wrestle with identity issues, it may be of some consolation to discover that atheists have similar struggles. Several years ago the American Atheists association issued a press release attempting to clarify its identity with the media and with its local affiliates. ("Our Identity As Atheist Organizations," by Cliff Walker, 1999)
It's common for denominational offices, including our own, to keep on file congregational profiles. These are self-descriptions that congregations use when looking for a new minister, but if I were looking for a new congregation I would scan those profiles with a fair bit of scepticism. Some of them require large grains of salt! I would phone friends and colleagues in nearby churches and ask, "What is this church really like?" One can't always get a straight answer from the church itself; to put it diplomatically, distinctions can often be drawn between a proclaimed identity and a practised identity. Perhaps some churches, like individuals, suffer from Dissociative Identity Disorder. And then there's the inevitable obfuscation. Some of our church offices should use the tag-line, "By their buzz-words shall ye know them!"
Jesus Wrestled with Questions of Identify
Our Gospel reading reveals that Jesus also wrestled with questions of identity, although perhaps he was less confused about his identity than were those who met and listened to him. The Gospel of Mark tells us that after several public appearances Jesus sat back to review his core values and strategic priorities, and he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" (Mark 8:27)
Well, some are saying, "John the Baptist," some are saying, "Elijah," and some are saying, "one of the prophets". (8:28)
Okay, pretty good product branding. They've got me down as a prophet!
Suffering doesn't look good on a church profile, and Peter would have none of it! Which in turn earned him a big-time rebuke! (Mark 8:33) Peter had used the right words, but his answer was loaded with assumptions Jesus did not share. And lest we share those assumptions, Mark tells us that Jesus spoke "quite openly" (8:32) about the pain and suffering that lay ahead, adding, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross.... For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it." (8:34-35)
What Threatens our Identity?
Now, some of our identities individual and collective identities are so tied up in our tradition and history that any broadening of the church's story poses a threat to our identity! One minister, shaking hands at the door after the service, was told, rather disdainfully, "What you had to say could have been said in the pulpit of any denomination!" Often these respondents don't want to hear a reply, so being slow-witted ministers sometimes works in our favour.
Even practising hospitality can be a threat to a denominational identity, but then people are increasingly "denominationally agnostic" (a comment shared with Jack Suderman, General Secretary of our national church, during his visits to 230 Mennonite Church Canada congregations). Denominational ties have weakened considerably, leading to greater congregational diversity, though I am amazed that in the larger body of Christ the thumbs in one denomination often manage to find the thumbs in other denominations, and likewise with the other body parts.
Many denominations are not only weakened, they are torn apart by issues on which we cannot find agreement. And when given a choice between an issue and church unity, the issue always seems to take preeminence. The banner of Christian unity has lain tattered and torn under any number of issues. Ironically, at the same time that churches are dropping creedal tests of members, congregations themselves are asked to submit to litmus tests around single issues. Reducing our identity to one issue one way or the other is no more helpful than reducing it to a slogan or logo.
In the past century denominationalism was a very large part of what it meant to be Christian. Your parents were Baptists or Presbyterians or Mennonites, as were their parents before them, and their parents before them, and so on. It reminds me of an old joke about a Mennonite minister who challenged a fourth-generation Baptist who was refusing to convert, asking her, "If your parents were morons, and their parents too were morons, what would that make you?" "A Mennonite?" She replied. Denominationalism has declined, and fewer and fewer people remain in the denominations in which they were raised all of which has been to our own congregation's benefit! I simply cite it as a challenge of articulating an identity.
Churches are increasingly open systems to use a current buzz word attempting to embrace everyone while imposing little on anyone, though this does little to build up the church. One minister says of his denomination, which took this route, that thirty years ago his denomination boasted twenty-five congregations in Massachusetts having over a thousand members, whereas now only two congregations remain. In the same period, the same denomination lost half its members, its Church School enrolments declined by 70%, and in the next fifteen years 80% of its clergy will retire! (Wesley J. Wildman, United Church of Christ) Stark statistics revealing an identity crisis! Church buildings become condos or fancy restaurants, their former bustling life but a faint memory. A similar story could be told of our own denomination; in one country (Holland) we lost one hundred congregations in one century!
The term, "open communion," used to mean that a church opened the Lord's Table to any baptized and committed Christian, regardless of denominational affiliation. In the words of one church, however, the open invitation now reads this way: "Whoever you are and wherever you are on your journey of faith, you are always welcome at the table of the Lord." Being a Christian is no longer required by some for participating in this fundamental communal act of Christian worship. (cited in a review of Caroline A. Westerhoff's book, Good Fences: The Boundaries of Hospitality, 2004)
Another church offers "open baptism," which comes with "no strings attached," whatever that means! Visitors are told that "Lack of belief' is not an obstacle to belonging to" this congregation. It seems quite unclear to me why one would join this group. "If belonging is without obligation and accountability, then we finally have not joined much of anything at all." (Westerhoff, Good Fences)
Cultivating and describing an identity that lacks clarity, or is intentionally vague is no more compelling than the T-shirt that says, "Our Church Sucks". It's a little like saying, "I prefer untitled novels that are not set in specific locations and that don't use names or any local colour!" Who would want to read them?!?
Some churches are quick to point to materialism and secularism as threats to Christian identity and there is some truth in those assertions and some point to pluralism, sociologists and church growth leaders, for example, warning, "Don't get too diverse racially, socially, politically, or theologically, because diverse groups of people experience huge stress and tend to lose a focussed identity and break apart. Instead, reduce diversity," they warn. "Aim for a distinctive group identity that helps people know confidently who (you) are and what (you) stand for." (cited by Wesley J. Wildman) I don't agree with this counsel and neither does the New Testament, but point taken how many diversities can a Christian Church juggle at one time? A good juggler can keep an impressive number of things in the air at the same time, but there are limits!
The Limits of Hospitality
Last Sunday I spoke about hospitality, about the biblical call for Christians to practise hospitality and for the Church to be hospitable to those who enter its doors. The presiding bishop (Frank Griswold) of the Episcopal Church in the United States has repeatedly urged that we "celebrate difference" and "embrace the Other," a call to be a broadly-defined church without what he calls "nasty, rigid boundaries". (Tom Wright, "Blindly embracing diversity will damage unity," The Guardian, October 23, 2004)
Interestingly, one of his confreres, Caroline Westerhoff, previously the Canon for Congregational Life and Ministry in the Episcopal Diocese of Atlanta, wrote a book entitled, Good Fences: The Boundaries of Hospitality (2004), a book in which she attempts to strike a balance between those who call for the eradication of boundaries and those who do indeed erect "nasty, rigid boundaries".
I have had some experience with rigid boundaries, and I am very happy for our own attractive, if imprecise, ethos of de-emphasizing boundaries and pointing, instead, to the One who is at the centre of our life together Jesus but I resonate with Westerhoff when she reminds us that Jesus said that the kingdom of God has a narrow entrance. (Matthew 7:13-14) She contends that "gates that swing too wide and doors that open too fast do not give us the opportunity to slow down and decide what is important...."
Westerhoff also reminds us that joining the Early Church involved a long process of instruction up to three years! The lives of those who asked for membership were examined, and people in questionable professions, for example, were rejected unless they changed their line of work. After three years of study, the lives of potential members were scrutinized again to see if they had been leading holy lives while they prepared for baptism. Carefully screening strangers was a protective measure for both the Church and those seeking church membership, for a profession of faith in those days could cost you your life! (David Neff, "Good Boundaries Make Good Christians: The difference between welcome and inclusion," Christianity Today, December, 2004)
It seems to me that there are increasingly polarized forces in the Church, the one party calling for inclusion, the other for exclusion. Those calling for inclusion point to the New Testament emphasis upon hospitality, while their counterparts accuse them of sloppy, sentimental thinking and argue that the recipe for ice cream may exclude a lot of good stuff, but if we included all of it, we would no longer have ice cream!
The polarized forces within our culture have infected the Church and driven us to propagate unkind caricatures of one another, the wisdom of James about the tongue notwithstanding. Oh, those wishy-washy liberals! Oh, those heartless, mindless conservatives! These forces are present in our own denomination. This summer the leadership of our national church identified the tension that exists between two polarities: holiness and hospitality (Faith and Life presentation). Either one can become a problem if we pay attention to one at the exclusion of the other. And perhaps in an increasingly polarized context, refusing or resisting polarization is itself a significant witness and a captivating mark of a Christian identity!
Who Are We? The Quest to Clarify our Identity
Who are we? "Who goes there?" society might well ask of the Church. How do we identify ourselves? It would be easy if we had a common enemy! We might have a clearer identity if we all felt under attack from the wider culture, or from anywhere! Some congregations find unity in their fear! However, few of us honestly believe that modern life is totally depraved, beyond redemption, or that we are particularly embattled. And no clear enemy has emerged to forge our identity or to act as a catalyst for unity. So the quest to clarify our identity should begin elsewhere.
Let me make a few suggestions. Our identity has to do, firstly, with the fact that we are a "community of memory". We have a history, a past, a tradition that has bequeathed us a good portion of our identity. We shouldn't necessarily take it as a criticism when the Church is characterized as backward-looking. In contrast to more recent institutions, like business organizations and the mass media, whose ties to the past are rather shallow, ours go back two millennia and then some! And in a culture in which an increasing percentage of our population is raised bereft of church, identifying the Church as a community of memory will become increasingly important. The likelihood of anyone in the future retaining a "Christian" identity depends on it. It behooves us to tell the stories of faith, as we did this summer, and as we do every time we meet for worship. Our personal stories depend on a sense of history and tradition. And so it behooves us to ask how strong this tradition will be in the future and to commit ourselves to its strengthening. (Robert Wuthnow, "Church Realities and Christian Identity in the 21st Century," The Christian Century, May 12, l993)
A second suggestion in our quest to clarify our identity is to use the resources available to us basic documents, like the Bible, to name one. Yes, it's an ancient document, but it speaks to us out of the past in a way that evokes hope for the future. While this document may not answer every question we have, its ancient narrative finds echoes in our modern lives, inspiring us to dream dreams of new heavens and a new earth! (Isaiah 65:17; 2 Peter 3;13; Revelation 21:2)
The Scriptures themselves often use metaphors and images to hint at our identity. "You are the salt of the earth," Jesus told the fledgling Church. (Matthew 5:13) "You are the light of the world." (5:14) You "are a chosen race," says the New Testament. You are "a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people...." (1 Peter 2:9) We are a work-in-progress, says 1 Peter, for "once (we) were not a people, but now (we) are God's people...." (2:10) The New Testament uses a hundred or more images and metaphors to give us an idea of who we are. We are the "household of God" (Ephesians 2:19; 1 Timothy 3:15; 1 Peter 4:17). We are the family of God (1 Peter 2:17). We are the New Creation (2 Corinthians 5:17). We are the "body of Christ!" (Romans 7:4; 12:5; 1 Corinthians 10:16; 12:12; 12:27; Ephesians 4:12; 5:23; Colossians 3:15)
Many Christians don't know their own tradition, and it's a shame. It's important that we remain diligent in our study of Scripture in order to keep in sharp focus its vision of the Church as an agent of God's great and redemptive purpose in the world. We need to keep answering the question Jesus asked his first disciples, "Who do (you) say that I am?" (Mark 8:27), for answering that question goes a long way toward discovering our own identity.
We are a community of memory, with an ancient tradition, but the Christian tradition is a living tradition, a dynamic tradition, an embodied tradition. When a church was burglarized the members of that church were far less interested in calling the police than in conveying God's forgiveness to the thief. They put the following on their church sign:
("St. Paul and Protestantism," 1870)
"We suck...
Not a very compelling invitation! Church marketers, however, are an irrepressible lot, and one of them suggested an alternative statement: the church's name, plus the tag-line, "Now 17% Less Judgmental!" Which, believe it or not, a church in Cochrane, Alberta used!
We have nothing to offer...
We don't know anything...
We are just a small group of people
in a small room trying to discover
more about God...
Come be confused with us..."
What's the word on the street? What's the scuttlebutt down at the lakeshore?
And then Jesus decided to do a little survey with the disciples themselves, starting with Peter. "Who do you say that I am?" (Mark 8:29) A general question became intensely personal, and Peter replied: "You are the Messiah." (8:29) Which becomes a cue for Mark to talk about the suffering that will befall the Son of Man. (8:31)
"To the person who broke in God loves you."
If that choice doesn't speak volumes about that church's identity, I don't know! I can think of similar experiences with respect to our own congregation. Some of you have been drawn to our community, not so much by what we say, or by the public face we wear, as by our identity, mysterious and indefinable as it may be, but evident to some, for example, in how we responded to a tragedy. Ours is an embodied tradition, and perhaps that is why we have encouraged visitors not to become members immediately, but to wait until they get to know us. It's not what looks good in our congregational resume, or profile, but how we actually respond to real-life situations that speaks the loudest about our identity. To paraphrase the English poet, Matthew Arnold (1822-1888):
"Below the surface stream, shallow and light,
Of what we say we are;
Beneath the stream, as light,
Of what we think we are,
There flows
With noiseless current, strong, obscure and deep,
The central stream of who we are indeed."
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.