Inter-Denominationalism. "We are because we have been."

"If I was baptized Catholic, how do I get rid of it?"

Posed by a fellow student in my class a few years ago, the answer to this question gets at the heart of inter-denominationalism. (Man, that's a big word. ID from now on.)

There are many different denominations, or brands, of Christianity. There are even churches who claim to be non-denominational (ND). But I have yet to attend a church that calls itself "inter-denominational."

What's the difference between an ID church and a ND? While NDs usually refrain from liturgy and ritual, shying away from mainline traditions in order to jump straight from the text of the Bible to the 21st century, an ID church owns up to its history, and more importantly, the history of its members.

A church congregation is the sum of its parts. Any ND church has the potential to house Baptists, Lutherans, Methodists, Roman Catholics, and more. They become a unified amalgamation of their parts by disowning their respective traditions in order to create a new culture.

The ID church strives for something a little different. Instead of leaving their respective histories behind, each person or family brings their traditions with them. Perhaps a favorite hymn, the sign of the cross, an Easter Sunday tradition, whatever it may be. It could be a prayer, action, or bit of theology. Granted, mixing small bits of theology can be messy, but there is a reason it can work.

ID churches commit to the truths found in the Nicene creed and greater Christian orthodoxy. They are founded and agree on the primary issues of the faith. (i.e. Jesus was a historical person, who died and rose again.) But on issues of secondary importance, diversity is allowed. (i.e. How is Christ present in the Eucharist? Or, Is baptism for infants or adults?)

In an age where (as we discussed in the last post and related comments) orthodox, practiced Christianity is declining, the church is finding ways to survive. Part of survival mode is waving good-bye to small differences and banding together to preserve the foundational elements of the gospel.

So, what was the answer to the question? How does one get rid of one's "Catholicness?"

It doesn't happen. It will always be a part of that person. And it's a part that can enrich someone who can't disown their history.

I'm a fan of the idea of ID churches.

I just hope they all have kneelers.

Theology and Ministry: A "both/and" proposition.

I've learned a few lessons as a performing songwriter.

1. Never publish anything you wouldn't want everyone to hear.
2. Never criticize your audience.
3. If you're interested in writing pop songs, the songs aren't good until an audience approves them.

I've just finished my first quarter in grad school, working towards a master's in theological studies. As far as Christian learning goes, there are two general territories.

I operate in the Ivory Tower. I get to look at books, examine theories, make claims about theology in practice that logically should work, and call those who are out in ministry idiots because they don't care about academic study since it's just theoretical.

The other position to have is to be down in the trenches. These are the people that work with the congregations, have fluid, ever-changing theories drawn out of experience, make attempts to do ministry better by trial and error, and call those who are in the Ivory Tower idiots because they aren't in the thick of it, and they're just not practical.

I guess one more division couldn't hurt Christianity, eh?

I have a problem trying to decide which one of these two M.O.'s is the "better" one. Using songwriter lesson #3 above, I see a chance to take this division and bring it to a place of "both/and".

The advantage that theologians have is that we are able to see a broader picture of the church at work throughout history, and make corrective suggestions to maintain both orthodoxy and orthopraxy. For example, without looking at the effects of modernism, how could we know we are ministering in a post-modern culture? Without taking time to examine the church year and Jewish festivals, would we ever consider that celebrating communion weekly rather than quarterly is more in keeping with Christian tradition and theology? These are the things we can worry about because we aren't planning seeker-sensitive services and making sure we have candles for communion Sunday. On the other hand, we tend to have idealistic views of how things should be, even when how they should be could be harmful for a community.

The advantage of being in the ministry is being able to sense the needs of a particular community in a particular time and place. It holds the unique opportunity of contextualizing faith in order to reach a specific group of people. Ministers are the ones being the hands and feet of Christ, bringing his message to the world and continuing in God's redemptive work of all creation. At the same time, ministry can produce bad theology. A committed community of faith can fall victim to preaching sermons that disregard Christianity apart from their Sunday group of gatherers; or it could be so concerned with social justice that it reduces Jesus from God to social liberator.

As I write I can't help but think, "How is this blog going to change anything?" I believe that feeling of inadequacy demonstrates the point well enough. When we are writing about the faith, we can only get so far, but perhaps we can be a catalyst for change. When we are practicing the faith, we can make the change, but maybe we can seek guidance from others.

When it's all said and done, the Church is in need of both: theologians and ministers. As I have learned, a pop song isn't considered good until an audience approves it. And as I am learning, theology must resign itself to the testing ground of the church before it can be approved.

DL