An alarming thing happened in a worship service I attended this morning. It was not my own church; I was visiting a friend. If a discussion of religion & abortion or church & politics is not what you had in mind for a autumnal Sunday evening, you may want to skip this.
I worked in a church for a few years, after earning two degrees in religion and theology. These days, my path forward is a bit more uncertain. It's different sitting in the pews, rather than leading the people in them.
The experience has resonated with me throughout the day, and I just felt compelled to offer a reflection on my experience.
"We are a pro-life church"
I attended a worship service with my friend this morning. The congregation is affiliated with the PCA, a splinter Presbyterian denomination that split off from the mainline and relatively more liberal Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) a few decades ago. Their beliefs seemed to be in accordance with contemporary orthodox Protestant/Reformed theology, with its attendant preference for "traditional values," etc.
This is perhaps not especially relevant, but I offer a brief demographic description to illustrate a nationwide trend of relative youth and conservatism in new and non-denominational congregations, as contrasted with relative decline among more liberal, mainline denominations. The congregation bought an old downtown Baptist church building when the Baptists moved out to the suburbs. The pastor is young, charismatic, handsome, and smart - and a very effective communicator. Most congregants were young, affluent, and almost exclusively white (literally 95% or more). There was a startling number of single young professionals rarely seen in mainline churches, and at least a quarter of the 400 or so in attendance were children.
When I sat down before the service, I glanced through the order of worship. (I never check to examine the sermon title, scriptural texts, or musical solos. I immediately look for what hymns are to be sung.) There was a prominent announcement in the bulletin promoting an antiabortion rally to be held in the afternoon. This is highly typical of many churches. There was no statement that "Every Christian has to be pro-life," but the implication is there, and it is not up for debate. My first thought, though, was that it is certainly preferable to simply give an invitation in the bulletin, rather than dedicate a whole service to antiabortion themes.
During the service, the pastor never made even the slightest allusion to the rally, or to abortion in general. This alone was a gesture of immense restraint on his part that few conservative pastors would have even attempted.
Later in the service, it was time for Holy Communion. Whereas a few Protestant traditions celebrate Holy Communion every Sunday, many observe the sacrament once a month. (Almost all evangelical, Southern Baptist, and nondenominational churches observe the sacrament much less frequently, often 4 times a year or less.) Typically, Holy Communion is understood to be an ideal embodiment of Christian unity and the inclusivity of the gospel (except in traditions with Communion available only to members of that church or sect). This particular congregation did even more to emphasize unity, because members came forward to receive the bread and wine grape juice, then returned to their seats with morsel and thimble-sized cup in hand. Only after everyone had been served did we all "eat and drink" together. In accordance with tradition, the ritual ended with a prayer of thanksgiving for "this holy mystery."
Fifteen seconds later, I found myself listening to a plug for the pro-life rally. A lay volunteer came to the front to give a zealous appeal for us to join her at the rally. A woman of about 25, she tearfully announced that today is her son's sixth birthday and how glad she is that she didn't abort him. She urged congregants to come out to the rally, since "we are a pro-life church, that supports the sanctity of human life from the moment of conception, etc. etc. Interestingly, her appeal was not met with applause, or even one Amen! from this rich white young Republican audience. While many were no doubt grateful for the sentiment, I wonder how many, like me, questioned the appropriateness.
So much for Christian unity. Seconds after the sacrament ended, they brought up one of the two most divisive issues in the church today!
A Few Thoughts
I don't claim that my experience this morning was particularly unique or insightful in any way. But it does underscore a suspicion I have long held: Most progressives, whether religiously observant or not, do not understand the implications of the denominational realignment taking place among U.S. Christians over the past few decades. While there are obviously going to be mainline churches that engage in right-wing politicking and electioneering and nondenominational churches that emphasize progressive social and political causes, the experience I had this morning could have happened in virtually any Southern Baptist or nondenominational church. And it would have been highly unlikely in most mainline churches (United Methodist, Evangelical Lutheran, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), Episcopal Church, United Church of Christ, Disciples of Christ, American Baptist).
While mainline denominations are uniformly liberal on issues related to war and peace, economic justice, and the environment, many are still conservative on homosexuality (UCC and ECUSA being the noteable exceptions). These denominations do, however, generally support a woman's right to choose, though they recognize the ethical complexity of the abortion issue. Many of these traditions take part in the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice, an organization which few progressives even know exists.
Times change. In 1973, the Baptist Joint Commission on Public Affairs praised the Roe decision. While many Protestants remained opposed to abortion, their church leaders, councils, and official statements remained surprisingly supportive of a woman's right to choose. Now, decades later, all of Christianity is assumed in the public eye and media to be vehemently pro-life.
While pro-choice Catholics have made their voice heard, pro-choice Protestant voices have been relatively silent compared to the raging pro-life activism that has prospered in evangelical and fundamentalist churches. Part of the reason, I think, has to do with Christian unity - that precious idea that evaporated instantaneously after Holy Communion in the worship service I attended this morning. While leaders on the Christian right have felt free to speak out loudly and drown out what has always been a decent sized minority of Baptists/evangelicals/fundamentalists who are, in fact, pro-choice, mainline church leaders have not generally been as willing to compromise the fragile unity that somehow persists within their traditions.
The National Council of Churches, for example, has spoken boldly for decades in support of justice, peace, and the integrity of creation. But the NCC has not been particularly active in promoting reproductive choice (or the full inclusion of GLBT persons in the church and society). For example, in the run-up to the invasion of Iraq, mainline Protestants endured ridicule from the pro-war crowd for speaking out against the invasion (the media, complicit as they were in beating the war drum, missed the story). However, you do not often see mainline churches, organizations, or officials advocating reproductive choice. There is not, it seems, sufficient consensus within their member churches to justify that level of activism. But you would rarely experience what I witnessed this morning in most mainline congregations.
Liberal Protestants have demurred on a great deal of church-based activism for the sake of Christian unity. In fact, while most denominations comprising the National Council of Churches celebrate World Communion Sunday on the first Sunday in October, many evangelical, Baptist, and nondenominational churches, as well as a variety of Roman Catholic groups, use the same day to mark Sanctity of Human Life Sunday. It's as though the conservatives, who revile the National Council of Churches, deliberately use the day to make a point about how unimportant unity in the Body of Christ really is when we have Great Moral Evils in our land.
As for me, my experience today made me sad. I can "live and let live" on most issues, recognizing differences of opinion. But as a Christian, the indifference to unity seems difficult to reconcile with the teachings of Jesus Christ, whose great prayer was "that they may all be one."