With the beginning of the Reformation in the sixteenth century and the disestablishment of the Roman Church, the interlocking networks of aristocracy and ecclesiastical authority began to deteriorate. By the eighteenth century, a class of wealthy businessmen was on their way to becoming the new aristocracy in nations like England and her colonial offspring. The business elite became prominent in Protestant Churches. However, the business elite had a considerable degree of autonomy from the authority of the church institutions. The Church was looked to for spiritual matters of life, but its input on enterprises like science and the economy was increasingly unwelcome. These practical aspects of life in the material world were the domains of pragmatic rationalism about which the Church had little to say.
Karl Marx's famous statement that "religion is the opiate of the masses" was not totally unfounded. The Churches gave increasingly secularized business interests an air of legitimacy. In societies without state-supported religion, the business elite often became the central source of financial stability for church institutions. Even in societies with state-supported religion, the interests of business and politicians (with authority over churches) were often closely aligned. This relationship, built on a division between the spiritual and material worlds, was part of what made the acceptance of slavery so easy for Protestant Churches.
This is not to say that there were no seeds of the gospel at work within the Church institutions of the time. One needs only consider William Wilberforce and his campaign against slavery in England or the Wesleys and their work among poor people to see that not everyone accepted this bifurcation between the spiritual and the material.
The Europeans brought their state churches to America, but the much more egalitarian environments of the frontier tended to democratize religious experience and institutions. The frontier churches rejected establishment sensibilities about the role of religion for no other reason than that there was no establishment on their frontiers to promote establishment values. Religion became much more individualistic and experiential. This tension between establishment loyalty and individualistic evangelism actually led to denominational splits among groups like the Presbyterians.
However, as the frontier shrank and what was once the frontier became thoroughly settled, the churches quickly became the legitimizing force for the new establishment in communities. The business elite dominated the new establishment. Once again, new reformist movements sprang up to challenge the compromises churches had made with the day's secular (materialistic) influences. For instance, folks from the Holiness Movement, which emerged in the last half of the nineteenth century, saw themselves as challengers to what they believed were secular and materialistic influences of the wealthy business class that had caused the Church to neglect "the least of these" in society.
One holiness denomination that emerged from this late nineteenth-century milieu was the Church of the Nazarene. The name was based on the passage in the gospels where it was asked, "Can anything good come from Nazareth?" It was an explicit attempt to identify with the outcast and poor, just as John Wesley had done with the Methodists a century earlier (Nazarenes were mostly a Methodist offshoot.) However, many would say that the Nazarenes have followed the same path as the Methodists toward compromising respectability.
Scholars in the sociology of religion call this the sect-to-church phenomenon. As the "church" type denomination becomes more accommodated to culture, it gives birth to reform movements. These reform movements often find their efforts blocked by powerful institutional forces. Reform-minded people leave the institution to establish a sectarian movement that culminates in the formation of new institutions or "sects." Over three or four generations, these highly devoted reformers tend to be successful in expanding their numbers, but as they become larger and older, it becomes more difficult to maintain broad adherence to the original reformist values.
Furthermore, because of the member's relatively ascetic lifestyles and attention to personal morality, the members of these groups tend to rise in prosperity and become increasingly influenced by other members of society in their social class. They become ever more like the establishment, thus making the journey from being a sect to being a church. This gives rise to a new sectarian reform impulse, and on the story goes. The tension at the center of this sect-to-church dynamic is Jesus' paradoxical instruction to "be in the world but not of it."
At the end of the nineteenth century, free market capitalism was virtually a given in American culture and Church institutions. In the last half of the nineteenth century, capitalism or some form of feudalism were the only real options. Socialism emerged on the intellectual scene in the 1880s but didn't capture any genuine interest in America. Capitalism was self-evidently preferable to the people of the day. Church and sect alike took the system as a given. There were reform efforts like the enactment of child labor laws around the turn of the century and the anti-monopolist trust-busting movements of the early twentieth century. Still, these movements viewed capitalism as a given, and socialism was still a wild-eyed fantasy except in certain intellectual circles.
The moral debates centered more on personal morality in business rather than questioning the structures' nature. Evangelical reform-minded leader William Jennings Bryan, often caricatured as the buffoon who defended the creationist position in the Scopes monkey trial, was motivated by his anti-evolutionary zeal largely because of the Social Darwinian implications he feared would infect the economic and political spheres of life, reducing human beings to animals instead of being valued as image bearers of God. Businessmen's Bible studies focused on evangelizing the business community became a major phenomenon in the early twentieth century.
With the catastrophe of World War I and the rise of communism in Russia at the end of the second decade of the twentieth century, theologians and scholars began to question the world order, especially in Europe. The Church was believed to be complicit in fostering the worldview that had brought such destruction. The culture wars of the 1920s and the global economic collapse of the 1930s only intensified this disillusionment. Totalitarian socialism was now a real alternative. How would the Church respond?
The liberal wing of Christianity, having largely "demythologized" the faith, moved in a parallel pattern to the secular modernist of the day and turned toward a type of universal humanism. Proclamation was abandoned in favor of dialog. Humanity ceased to be fallen according to the "old myths." Deceptive and destructive institutions merely corrupted humanity. Eliminate the evil influences of these institutions and redistribute adequate resources to all humanity, and humanity's innate nobility would shine through. By building institutions that transcend denominational and religious boundaries (Federated Council of Churches, National Council of Churches, and World Council of Churches) and by developing global political institutions (League of Nations and the United Nations), oppressive institutions could be conquered, and the innate divinity existing within all humanity would be liberated. God morphed from being the God revealed in Scripture to the divine something or another behind all human experience. The quest in theological circles became the quest for connection with the divine something-or-other.
How do we discover the divine something-or-other? That varies depending on who you ask, but what is agreed upon is the need to deconstruct what has traditionally been known as the Christian faith. Once we have removed the falsehoods of historic Christianity, the secret to the truth will emerge. Marxist and Liberation theologians believed they found the answer in identifying with poor people. Only through the struggle against oppression can we come to the truth. Some feminist theologians believe it is only through the experience of the divine feminine that we can access the truth. Others take a more New Age approach and encourage us to seek the truth that lies within us. We are to become one with the world. In some circles, that has led to the deification of the environment. It is argued that we need to surrender the idea of being created in God's image and become one with nature. What all of these have in common is the pursuit of a secret spiritual truth apart from the revelation of God in Scripture and testimony of the Church.
This quest to discover hidden spiritual truths has led to several responses regarding how we relate to the material world. Some opt for a life of licentiousness. The material world is disconnected from anything of spiritual value. Why not do whatever feels good? There are no consequences. Others may be less hedonistic, exercising self-restraint and deferred gratification, but the aim is a sense of self-actualization in this life, and it generally avoids probing too deeply into eternal questions. The spiritual world and the afterlife will be what they will be; we will deal with it when we get there.
Some have opted for a type of asceticism, believing that forgoing materialistic pursuits will bring them closer to common humanity, nature, or both. In doing so, they will come closer to the God behind our illusions. Some have opted for pan-everythingism, where God is in everything and everything is God. Here the key to spiritual truth is the absorption of humanity into the material world (or elevation of everything into the spiritual world) and the negation of humanity's divine image-bearing quality. The Scripture and teachings of the Church merely become resources we each individually draw upon to support us in our materialistic pursuits. The eschatological vision of the New Jerusalem becomes a symbolic aspiration instead of an inevitable future.
I once had the opportunity to sit with a room full of Nazarenes in on a soc of religion lecture on the sect-church move. The professor was very amused at how strongly his audience wanted to view themselves in the coveted "sect" category.
You cover a host of issues here - many worth more exploration, but I'm really curious about one thing: is there a way to prevent that "sect" - "church" drift? It can be seen so predictably at least in Enlgish and American experience (hindsight). This is mirrored by the experience of the individual -- we tend to make "treaties" with the dominant culture to permit us to participate in its values and Christianity at the same time.
I ask because I find the institutional "insolence of office" and the accomodationist bent both to be incompatible with Christianity. And I find the holding "Christ and culture" in dynamic tension to be an unsatisfying concept. (Much as we all want to buy into the Christ transforming culture rationale -- and much as I can point out instances of this -- I can probably point out far more historic instances of culture transforming Christians.)
Posted by: will spotts | Jul 14, 2006 at 12:40 AM
The Nazarenes are indeed an interesting group. I did my master’s thesis on them. According to survey data, over the past decade they have made an astonishing transition toward more social concern while keeping their Evangelical core. The following is a study published a couple of years ago that shows some fascinating changes: Fundamentalism in the Church of the Nazarene
“is there a way to prevent that "sect" - "church" drift?”
And that is the million dollar question isn’t it? The Roman Catholics have dealt with many potential sectarian splits by creating orders for reformist elements. That is one model. You hit on something with your observation about the Anglo-American element in this. These are also the cultures that have been the most thoroughly imbued with modernist hubris about progress and foundationalism.
I have wondered what well happen with this dynamic as the modernist world wanes. For instance, some have been concerned about a denominational split in the PCUSA because of decisions that have been made. While there may be a splinter group or two, IMO, that is the least of PCUSA worries. The bigger problem is evaporation. People just walking out of congregations to who knows where.
I think some of the impetus for splits on both sides of issues in the past is that people’s identity is deeply tied to an institution. The great majority of folks in our pews no longer have a strong identity investment with denominations. If they don’t see what they want they will just find it somewhere else regardless of denomination. I also think that as foundationalism wanes there will be less impetus to draw hard narrow hair-splitting lines on esoteric doctrines.
Bottom-line is, I really don’t have definitive solution. Do you have some thoughts on this?
On a related but different note, I think it was in one of Ken Bailey’s books where he noted that 500 years after the Church started the Armenian Church split with the West in 554. Five hundred years later the Eastern Orthodox split with the West in 1054. Five hundred years after that we had the Protestant Reformation, generally considered to have begun in 1517 when Luther decided to offer a few constructive observations at Wittenberg. The really big splits seem to come every five centuries. Well… it is five hundred years later. What should we expect now?
Posted by: Michael Kruse | Jul 14, 2006 at 09:19 PM
Thanks for the link to the paper. I was vaguely aware of the shift described, but I was kind of shocked by its rapidity.
I disagree with the authors's classifications - for one thing, viewing things in systemic rather than individual terms is not a more complex thought. It is simply a current fashion - applied ubiquitously in our culture.
I found one statement charming: "If viewing the culture as evil and threatening and getting worse is an indicator of fundamentalism (of course, that begs the question as to whether or not the world is actually evil and getting worse!), then the majority of Nazarenes are somewhat fundamentalist."
Million dollar question? (Kind of an inflation from $64000, no?) I do not have an answer for this. On the institutional level, I'm not sure it is possible . . .. The Catholic model works in some ways to preserve the institution. Basically, the institution absorbs its challengers . . . kind of machiavellien: it appeals to the vanity of the reformer, and manages to take the sting out of reformation. But the order itself simply becomes another tentacle of the institution it sought to reform.
The PC(USA) won't split -- though we may loose a number of churches . . . who knows, even some presbyteries are on the table. The PC(USA) likely will, however, cease to matter "if these shadows remain unaltered by the future". European churches went through this process ahead of us, and now Europe is commonly regarded as post-Christian. (Unlike the reform - sect - church model that predominates in England and the US, "Old Europe" has been leading the way in the post-modern transformation. For me, the one thing the church cannot do - and the greatest tempation it faces - is to consciously try to be relevant. To do this is to fail before you start. Either there is something so compelling in Christianity (which I believe to be the case) that if it were followed, it would draw on its own. Or no amount of window dressing, cultural "relevance", etc. will make it worthwhile. I tend to believe the G. K. Chesterton line on this. "The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese." Er . . . no . . . I meant to say, "The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult and left untried."
Every 500 years? Are we at the 4th turning of the saeculum?
Posted by: will spotts | Jul 15, 2006 at 02:32 AM
I share your suspicions of some the definitions in the study but, like you, I find the survey data fascinating.
"if these shadows remain unaltered by the future".
Are there no prisons!!! Are there no poor houses!!! *grin* I think the movie version of "A Christmas Carol" starring Alastair Sims is one of the best movies ever. I think I have watched it nearly every Christmats season since I was a child. Maybe we need a new version that stars the PCUSA as Scrooge so we can dramatize its future trajectory.
"The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese."
LOL
Posted by: Michael Kruse | Jul 15, 2006 at 10:56 AM
The data suggests something troubling to any good "conservative" . . . I'm wondering if this rapid rate of transformation is not more common than the slow, gradul method. Take the former Nazarene transformation from a very socially engaged denomination (women's suffrage, prohibition (as a human rights and women's issue), very early female ordination) to a far more isolationist denomination. The holiness emphasis remained constant, but the focus abruptly changed before. Is this a Nazarene phenomenon, or is it more widespread?
Alstair Sim sets the "gold standard" (the irony is not lost on me . . .). No doubt it would destroy my "orthodox" bona fides to confess that I have strongly suspected that work of "inspiration" more than once.
A PC(USA) Christmas Carol . . . from the new hymnal no doubt . . . I like it.
Posted by: will spotts | Jul 15, 2006 at 12:30 PM
The Church of the Nazarene formed from a number of local associations on the east and west coasts in 1907 and then were joined by a smaller more fundamentalist contingent movement in the south in 1908. The associations on the coasts were formed from congregations that, from the 1880s to early 1900s, had left or been forced out of the Methodist Church for championing a return to what they believed was original Holiness teaching. They were major social activists. There were few churches in the Midwest. As the fundamentalist/modernist controversy heated up in the 1910s a great many fundamentalist Midwest Methodists left the Methodist church. These folks were much more about fundamental doctrine and much less about social activism. By 1920, fully 40% of the Church of the Nazarene was located in about eight Midwest states. I think that, more than anything else, was the reason for the rapid change, though clearly there were other influences. I think this is also what has given the denomination its somewhat schizophrenic nature ever since.
In the 1980s, the Nazarenes did something I find both fascinating and commendable. Like most denominations, they had a US Church with "foreign missions." What they did was divide the world into zones and districts within zones. Something loosely similar to synods and presbyteries. (I think there may even be another layer in here and I am not sure I am using the right terminology but you get the picture.)Unchurched regions were called pioneer districts. Once a certain threshold of congregations is reached, the district becomes a district like any other including a US district. The denomination is growing faster outside the US than in and I believe they are at or near a level where there are as many Nazarenes outside the US as in. I suspect the growing non-US presence may have partly been driving the recent changes. I don’t have a study or stats that makes that linkage but I suspect a strong connection.
Posted by: Michael Kruse | Jul 15, 2006 at 06:37 PM