United Methodists: Breaking up is hard to do

The Rev. Charles Sineath wasn't surprised when a close friend responded to a cancer diagnosis by soberly focusing on defeating that tumor.

A serious response was appropriate, in a life-and-death crisis. Try to imagine the response he would have received, said the pastor, if he had cheerily told his friend: "Why are you focusing on that prostate that is malignant? After all, your eyes are healthy, your hearing is good, your hair is in good shape, your teeth are sound, your arms and legs and liver and heart are all in good shape. With so much that is good, why don't you focus on that instead of on your prostate?"

That would be insane. Yet this parable sums up what Sineath and others at First United Methodist Church in Marietta, Ga., started hearing when they leapt to the forefront of efforts to address the health of their denomination. Last spring, the 5,000- member church steered nearly $60,000 of the "apportionment" it is supposed to send to the national church into regional United Methodist causes that its leaders believe "honor God" and are "scripturally sound."

Naturally, United Methodists on the left side of the theological aisle oppose this stance, since it hurts their agencies and seminaries. Centrists and even some conservatives argue that the Marietta congregation and others that are taking similar financial steps are being too negative. Why focus on the bad, they ask, when there is so much good in the church?

One side is convinced the United Methodist Church has cancer. The other disagrees and rejects calls for surgery. It's hard to find a safe, happy compromise when the issue is a cancer diagnosis. Ask the Presbyterians, Episcopalians, the Disciples of Christ and others.

So it raised eyebrows when United Methodism's best-known expert on church growth and decay called for open discussions of strategies to split or radically restructure the national church. Research indicates that United Methodists are increasingly polarized around issues of scripture, salvation, sexuality, money, politics, multiculturalism, church government, worship and even the identity of God, said the Rev. Lyle E. Schaller of Naperville, Ill.

Many people are in denial, while their 8.5-million-member church continues to age and decline, he said, in the Circuit Rider magazine for United Methodist clergy. Others know what's happening, yet remain passive. One group says the church should only pursue a positive agenda of missions and evangelism. This assumes United Methodists can agree on definitions of loaded terms such as "missions" and "evangelism." Another group yearns to find common ground on issues - such as redefining marriage, or the reality of the resurrection of Jesus - on which compromises would be just as controversial as orthodoxy or modernism.

It might be necessary, he said, to offer unhappy congregations a chance to pay a fee and exit the national church's tight legal structure, receiving in return clear titles to their real estate. United Methodist leaders may have to use a word they have refused to utter - "schism."

But Schaller is convinced there is another option - creating a tent big enough to hold liberal and conservative networks within a more flexible national church. Clashing churches would agree to disagree and the denomination would allow people the freedom to put their money where their mouths are.

The result would be United Methodist conferences defined by region, ideology, cultural heritage or some combination of the above factors. Evangelicals could go ahead and form their own conference and so could others pushing for gay rights, feminism and other liberal causes. There could be a conference for Hispanic or Korean churches. Urban churches might form a network and rural churches could, too.

Perhaps, suggested Schaller, modern America is so simply too divided to allow unity in a centralized structure of church government. Yes, breaking up would be hard to do.

"What is your preference?", he asked. "Should United Methodists continue to quarrel under the roof of a relatively small tent with a shrinking number of people in that tent? A more productive approach would be to accept the growing ideological polarization as the inevitable price tag on pluralism and as a fact of contemporary American culture."

Moses, Dr. Laura and the rabbi

The Ten Commandments are so hot, right now, that its amazing some Beltway politico hasn't tried to hit Moses with a grand jury subpoena or a blast of rumors about his private life during all those mysterious years out in the desert.

America's political establishment is struggling with the implications of Commandment No. 7: "Thou shalt not commit adultery." No. 9 issues a timely warning against perjury: "Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor." Meanwhile, legislators and legions of social activists are fighting over whether it's legal to post this particular top 10 list anywhere in the public square.

After all, they are called the Ten Commandments, which implies that someone - make that Someone - wants people to obey them, said Rabbi Stewart Vogel, co-author of a new book, with radio superstar Laura Schlessinger, entitled "The Ten Commandments: The Significance of God's Laws in Everyday Life." The book has gained a double-shot of momentum from the White House scandals and the Jewish High Holy Days, which conclude with Yom Kippur on Wednesday (Sept. 30).

"Without a God ... you end up with a subjective morality. There's no way around that," said the rabbi," who leads Temple Aliyah in Woodland Hills, Calif. "To believe in God is to believe that human beings are not mere accidents of nature. ... Without God, there is no objective meaning to life and there is no objective morality. I don't want to live in a world where right and wrong are subjective."

Theologians and philosophers debate these kinds of lofty issues all the time without causing a ripple in homes and shopping malls. But this book may be different, because Dr. Laura's take-few-prisoners style of family counseling has won her a loyal audience of 20 million, leading to a string of bestsellers with punchy titles such as "How Could You Do That?!"

The book grew out of several years of personal discussions, since the talk-show host is active in Vogel's synagogue. While he is a Conservative Jewish rabbi, Schlessinger and her family recently completed a complicated religious journey by converting to Orthodox Judaism. Once a fierce skeptic, she describes herself as the product of an "inter-faithless marriage" between an unbelieving Jewish father and a culturally Catholic mother.

As might be expected, the book blends two very different styles. The first-person singular voice is Dr. Laura's and she is clearly the source of the radio-based parables. But the rabbi said readers shouldn't assume that he wrote all the theological commentary, while she added doses of "real life." Schlessinger has strong viewpoints on scriptural issues, he said, and rabbis also have to deal with tough, practical problems.

"But we do tend to separate what we call 'religious life' from the kinds of issues Dr. Laura deals with day after day," said Vogel. "We end up with 'religious life' over here and 'radio life' over there and they never meet face to face. We tried to bring the two together."

Thus, the book addresses both cultural and highly personal questions. The chapter on the sixth commandment, "Thou shalt not kill," covers issues ranging from murder to abortion, from acts of self-destruction to gossip that crushes the reputation of others. When addressing idolatry and other gods, the authors spend as much time on the old-fashioned worship of success as they do on trendy gospels of self-esteem.

Hardly anyone wants to ditch the Ten Commandments, said the rabbi. Most people want their neighbors to follow the Ten Commandments, because that creates a safer, kinder, more just world in which to live. The problem is that so many people are simply too easy on themselves.

"One thing leads to another," he said. "So people commit adultery and then they have to lie to cover it up. So No. 7 leads straight to No. 9. ... And when people start lying, they are really setting themselves up as idols. So we're back to the issue of God. People are saying that they get to set up their own standards for what is right and wrong and it doesn't matter what happens to others. They put themselves in the place of God."

Dobson and Wallis sing a rare duet

It would be hard to imagine two more radically different evangelicals than Dr. James Dobson of Focus on the Family and Jim Wallis of Sojourners magazine.

One is a superstar on the Religious Right, the quietly authoritative radio counselor who has used his multimedia empire to pummel President Clinton and political progressives. The other is a veteran social activist who has fiercely criticized the political establishment from the left on economic and military issues, while needling Clinton and others from the right on social issues such as abortion.

These two voices rarely sing in harmony. But right now, Dobson and Wallis are airing strikingly similar views of the morality play in Washington, D.C.

"Never has an American president been more comfortable with the symbols of religion than Bill Clinton," notes Wallis, in a recent MSNBC commentary. "He seems at ease in any available pulpit. But as adroitly as he has used the name and word of God, Clinton has also abused it. Resignation or impeachment are the political topics now, but the real issue here is moral accountability – for Clinton and the rest of us."

Dobson agrees that the main crisis is not in the White House. No matter what details spew out about Clinton's moral or legal conduct, most Americans seem convinced they cannot pass judgment on what is right and what is wrong in this case. Perhaps they have lost the ability to make such judgments – period.

"I just don't understand it. Why aren't parents more concerned?", asks Dobson, in his latest letter to 2.4 million Focus on the Family supporters. "What have we taught our boys about respecting women? What have our little girls learned about men? We are facing a profound moral crisis - not only because one man has disgraced us - but because our people no longer recognize the nature of evil. And when a nation reaches that state of depravity - judgment is a certainty."

The irony is that this is precisely the kind of fiery rhetoric that Wallis and others focused on mainstream Americans during the Vietnam conflict, the Civil Rights Movement, the war on poverty and the revolutions of Central America. It made sense, a quarter of a century ago, for Wallis and other inner-city activists to start a magazine called "Post American," which evolved into Sojourners. Now, Dobson and many others on the Religious Right also sound like aliens in a strange, amoral land.

Addressing the Clinton crisis, both Wallis and Dobson say it's impossible to dismiss his affair with Monica Lewinsky as a merely "private" since it took place in the Oval Office, with the most powerful boss any government employee could have pairing off with an intern. Any academic leader, military officer, pastor, doctor or counselor who did the same thing would be fired, due to policies that have drawn support both from feminists and moral conservatives.

Dobson and Wallis also believe Americans place too much trust in glib, talented, aggressive people who spin their way to success in a media marketplace. Both worry that Americans now care less about lies and laws, simply because the economy has left them so comfortable for so long. Both fear a rising tide of cynicism.

Meanwhile, the president used a recent interfaith breakfast as a forum to preach to himself on repentance. The audience included many clergy who have prayed with Clinton throughout his tenure, including a famous Nov. 18, 1995, rite in which National Council of Churches leaders laid hands on him and asked God to bless him. It was the day after Lewinsky's second Oval Office tryst with Clinton.

Everyone would have been better off, including the many clergy who trusted him, if the president had confessed much earlier, says Wallis.

"Some of his spiritual advisors have been counseling Clinton for many months to tell the truth about this for the sake of his own soul, his family, and the nation. To mention God now has not persuaded everyone of the sincerity of the president's repentance. My religious mother –who voted for Clinton – put it this way: 'He didn't really repent, he just got caught.' "

After the crash: Where is God?

The images of debris and death from Swissair 111 are all too familiar, as are the scenes of grieving families gazing at a distant crash site.

Four years ago, Father Thaddeus Barnum was caught up in a similar drama, when USAir flight 427 fell in a 23-second death dive into the wooded hills about a mile from his church outside Pittsburgh. The Sept. 8 crash killed 132, virtually shredded the aircraft and remains one of the great mysteries in aviation history.

After rushing to the hellish scene, Barnum became one of the few clergy allowed inside the yellow security tape to minister to the stunned investigators and rescue crews. Over and over, he rushed through the same kind of media gauntlet clergy are facing this week in Nova Scotia.

The Episcopal priest kept hearing the same question: "Why did this happen?"

"Everybody knows what that means," he said. "What they were asking was, 'Where was God? Why did God allow this to happen?' What else could that question mean?' "

After all, Barnum wasn't a mechanic, a federal investigator, a coroner or a pilot. He was just a man in a clerical collar, someone who is supposed to provide comforting answers on demand. The reporters were asking questions about the very nature of God, live and on camera.

"That's fair. We need to face tough theological questions. The problem was that they really didn't want a real answer. They wanted a sound bite," said Barnum, who wrote a book called "Where Is God in Suffering and Tragedy" about the crash. "I wanted to tell them, 'Come on. You're journalists. You cover accidents and murder and death all the time. Does a plane have to fall out of the sky for you to realize this is a sinful, fallen world?' "

Truth is, jet crashes provide today's archetypal images of sudden death and grief in a land that has little direct experience with war and mass terrorism. While heart attacks and car wrecks lurk in private nightmares, the fall of a jetliner is big news. This hits close to home, especially since millions of people regularly spend time strapped into airplane seats, thinking about life and death as the wheels leave the ground.

But life goes on. On the first anniversary of the USAir 427 crash, noted Barnum, mourners gathered at the site, waiting in silence for the clock to reach 7:03 p.m. Then the weeping was interrupted by a familiar sound - another Boeing 737 following same flight path, at exactly the same time. It was just part of the routine.

Life goes on, but the questions linger. Theologians have given a technical name - "theodicy" - to the ultimate question raised by such tragedies. Barnum states the equation bluntly in his book: "Either God caused the tragedy and is not good, or He couldn't stop it and is not all-powerful. Either way, God is less than God." One bitter rescue worker simply said, "Do me a favor when you get up in your pulpit. ... Don't let God off the hook."

There is no sound-bite answer to questions about free will, evil and the impact of sin on all of creation, said Barnum. Christianity also insists that God is not above suffering and death, but chose to experience both in human flesh. In the end, Christmas leads to Good Friday, which is followed by Easter. This answer infuriates many people, while offering hope to others.

Near the point of impact, Barnum discovered a torn human body hanging on a scorched tree on the hillside. He wept, yet this horrible sight also reminded him of the cross. It was impossible for a priest to avoid that kind of mysterious experience while wearing a decontamination suit in that particular valley of the shadow of death.

"When we went into the crash site, we were facing the facts and I guess that shocked some people," he said. "It's OK for clergy to sit on the outside and comfort the grieving families. We're allowed to offer our answers in places like that. But we're not supposed to take Jesus Christ with us inside the yellow tape where everything is broken and bloody."

The Meaning of Life 101

A new year has begun at America's 3,500 or so institutions of higher learning, which means it's time for yet another cycle of news about alcohol, sex, suicide and cheating.

As dean of the Duke University chapel, theologian William Willimon has heard more than his share of sobering statistics and angry debates about who is to blame. Instead of going around in old circles, he thinks it would be good if more educators had to sit down with students - sharing books or coffee or maybe both - and work on some big question of mutual concern.

Here's a good one: What is the meaning of life?

"The fact that many people are scared to ask that kind of question says a lot about the state of higher education," said Willimon. "People are afraid that it might lead to discussions of good and evil, of right and wrong, and we're not supposed to do that. But we need to be honest and admit there is no such thing as value-neutral education. We are teaching our students some kind of values, whether we want to or not."

So here's another good question: What is the meaning of meaninglessness?

At that point, students and teachers might find themselves talking about binge drinking, date rape, eating disorders, careerism and a legion of other issues. Willimon believes it's time for teachers to realize students need input from their elders - before it's too late.

"How can we be neutral on the role that alcohol plays on campuses?", he said. "How many people are going to have to fall off of fire escapes and die before we take this seriously? Somewhere along the line we lost our nerve, when it comes to talking about the things that matter the most."

Willimon is speaking from experience. Back in early 1990s, the theologian teamed with economist Thomas Naylor to create a freshman seminar called "The Search for Meaning." For starters, students had to write short papers about their lives. The results from a 1994 class were pretty typical. Seven of the 16 students said the event that most shaped them was their parents' divorce. Only one of the papers included any other reference to having had a father.

When it comes to meaningful relationships with adults, many students may as well be orphans, concluded Willimon and Naylor, in their book "The Abandoned Generation: Rethinking Higher Education." The irony is that most live on campuses led by adults who, when they were students, attacked "in loco parentis" policies in which the college played a protective, parental role. Thus, most educators now use what Calvinist philosopher David Hoekema has called the "non sum mater tua (I am not your mama)" approach.

Willimon and Naylor don't mince words about the result: "We have failed to teach an ethic of concern. We have created a culture characterized by dysfunctional families, mass schooling that demands only minimal effort and media idols subliminally teaching disrespect for authority and wisdom. It is as if there were a conspiracy of parents and educators to deliberately ruin our children."

But it's too late, especially on secular campuses, for "in loco parentis." Instead, they suggest an "in loco amicis" approach, in which faculty dare to play the role of wise, experienced friends. At the very least, the advertising slogan "Friends don't let friends drive drunk" could be applied to sexual promiscuity, cheating, drug abuse and other moral issues.

This would require teachers to spend more time with students in and out of the classroom, requiring changes in academic policies that stress research, over teaching. Colleges may need to find alternatives to massive dormitories that depress and depersonalize students. Administrators will have to confront painful problems instead of hiding behind public-relations officers.

Parents and religious leaders also need to realize that today's campuses are even more risky - to body, mind and spirit - than those they knew, said Willimon.

"The average campus is not a benign or neutral environment," he said. "Sometimes the paganism comes in bottles. Sometimes it comes in books. But there's no denying that it's out there. Somebody or something is going to mold these students, one way or another."