Lambeth '98 – The Americans are coming!

Once a decade, the Anglican Communion's bishops gather in Canterbury to celebrate the ties that bind.

This time around, a global coalition is preparing for the 1998 Lambeth Conference in a most unusual manner. It's bishops have done everything they can – short of lighting a beacon in the British cathedral's high tower – to issue a warning: "The Americans are coming! The Americans are coming!"

For two decades, Episcopalians have been fighting over the Bible, sex and marriage, with homosexuality getting the most ink. A month ago, 50 bishops and archbishops from 16 nations met in Dallas to discuss how to keep America's ecclesiastical sexual revolution from reaching their altars. The oldline Protestant sex wars have gone global.

Now, 37 participants in this "Anglican Life and Witness Conference" have sent an unusually blunt letter to each American bishop asking why so many of them are ordaining priests who are sexually active outside of the Sacrament of Marriage and letting their clergy perform same-sex union rites. The U.S. church now has a de facto policy allowing these actions.

"Why in this matter have such bishops failed to consider the judgment of their colleagues in other parts of the Anglican Communion, nor taken into account the repercussions of their actions in different areas of the world?", asked the bishops. "Do those who perform or sanction such ordinations and blessing knowingly set aside the authority of scripture and the doctrine of marriage given by God in creation and affirmed by his Son, Jesus Christ?"

The foreign bishops - mostly from Africa - asked American bishops to respond by the first of the year, either in writing or in face-to-face meetings. And, in a publicly released statement, the bishops didn't duck another painful issue: the possibility that American doctrinal innovations may shatter global Anglican unity at the level of bread and wine.

"Accountability ... calls us to provide a clear understanding of the bounds of eucharistic fellowship," they said. "Those who choose beliefs and practices outside the boundaries of the historic faith must understand they are separating themselves from communion and leading others astray. Sadly, that reality of broken fellowship can extend to individuals, congregations or even whole dioceses and provinces. Where this happens, we call for repentance and return."

These statements follow two other pre-Lambeth developments. During a February meeting of archbishops in Jerusalem, several participants - openly or privately, depending on who describes the scene - briefly suggested that the Episcopal Church's delegation be banned from Lambeth. This was followed by the conservative "Kuala Lumpur Statement" from 80 bishops in 20 of Anglicanism's 35 provinces, meeting in Malaysia.

Events at Canterbury will be shaped by two sets of numbers. The first is that 75 percent of the world's 70 million Anglicans now kneel in the rapidly growing, and strongly orthodox, churches of the Two-Thirds World. The second is that the First World's shrinking churches still have more bishops and larger trust funds, which provide crucial gifts to foreign churches. Nearly 750 bishops have been sent Lambeth invitations and almost a quarter of those who can afford to go will come from the Episcopal Church, which has about 2 million members.

Plus, it may be hard for conservatives to make a stand because planners have scheduled no plenary legislative sessions. Instead, most of the July 18- August 9 conference will consist of small-group meetings and formal papers on these topics – "Called to Full Humanity," "Called to live and proclaim the Good News," "Called to be faithful in a plural world" and "Called to be One." This last topic could, ironically, cause the most division.

Most First World bishops will seek soothing sensitivity sessions that produce nuanced relationships, commitments to further dialogue and, at most, the traditional Anglican response to a crisis - a compromise conceived in a study committee. The Two-Thirds World bishops want clarity, before it's too late.

The coalition that formed in Dallas didn't mince words: "It is not acceptable for a pro-gay agenda to be smuggled into the church's programme or foisted upon our people and we will not permit it."

Persecution: The power of apathy

For ages, many Christians have tried to work out the details for the apocalypse, right down to the precise arrival time for Jesus Christ's return flight from heaven.

Some of today's best-known end-times experts are convinced, based on verses in Daniel and Revelation, that the saints can count on being air- lifted, or "raptured," out of this terrestrial combat zone just before all hell – literally – breaks loose.

"For those of us living in this world today as we approach an age of growing persecution, there's something else to look forward to," according to best-selling author Hal Lindsey. "For God promises that He will take His flock out of this world just before the persecution becomes most unbearable."

This should be comforting news to those seeing their children sold as slaves in the Sudan, their churches burned in Pakistan, their pastors murdered in Iran or their bishops locked up in China, notes Canadian scholar Paul Marshall, with obvious sarcasm. Apparently, today's suffering saints have worse days ahead. Or perhaps martyrs far from America just don't count.

Fascination with "the rapture" might explain why many Christians don't take persecution seriously, said Marshall. They expect to be given a pass.

While this doesn't require Christians to ignore "current persecution, it does in practice seem to lead to a fatalism wherein persecution is simply taken for granted," argues Marshall, who teaches at Toronto's Institute of Christian Studies. "The result is a stunning passivity that calmly accepts such suffering. Perhaps this ... could be justified if we were dealing with our own suffering. But to do this with the suffering of another amounts to theological sadism."

Right now, a spectrum of activists – from Hollywood liberals to Bible Belt conservatives – are trying to focus attention on rising global reports of religious persecution. For millions of believers, this will lead up to the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church on Nov. 16. Meanwhile, Capitol Hill debates continue on the Freedom From Religious Persecution Act of 1997, which faces fierce opposition from business groups and the White House.

But in their influential book, "Their Blood Cries Out," Marshall and journalist Lela Gilbert show that another powerful force aiding oppressive governments is the apathy of millions of church-going Americans. There is more to this than theological puzzles such as "the rapture."

* Most Americans show little or no interest in international events. Also, the American church has had no direct experience with persecution – period.

* Few Americans can identify with the fervor of Third World churches. "The people who are getting persecuted the most are, by definition, those who are out doing the most evangelism," said Marshall. "That's what creates conflicts with the state. Obviously, these people are evangelicals, Pentecostals or conservative Catholics. That's who insists on spreading their faith. Mainline-church leaders and American Catholics just can't identify with that."

* Two other conservative beliefs play a crucial role. Millions of Americans have embraced a "prosperity gospel" that directly links faithfulness and material blessings and it's hard for them to square this belief with reports of persecution overseas. Also, other Christians note that, historically, persecution fans the flames of church growth. Thus, persecution may be good.

* While many pundits view conservative Christianity as a monolithic force, the reality is exactly the opposite, argues Marshall. Evangelicalism is a maze of thousands of independent denominations, ministries and mailing lists. There is fierce competition for dollars and devotion. Turf wars and jealousy are common. Often believers resist calls to aid those who kneel at other altars. Thus, it's almost impossible to steer this staggeringly complex fleet toward one goal.

"The evangelical world is like a big blob," said Marshall. "You push on it and your hand just sinks in. Things never seem to move. ... Evangelicalism is so entrepreneurial. All of these parachurch and missionary groups have to raise money by showing that they are out there having an impact around the world. They have to put themselves and their work front and center. They have to show SUCCESS. Well, it's hard to be upbeat when you're talking about persecution."

The void after the High Holy Days

It's the week after the High Holy Days and, once again, Jewish life is returning to normal. So the odds are good that any nearby temple or synagogue will have plenty of empty spaces in its pews and parking lots.

Thousands of American Jews worry about this. Millions do not. Thousands live their lives as if Jewish traditions make a difference in this life or the next. But millions do not.

Thus, the "most divisive factor in American Jewish life is ... Judaism," argues Jewish conservative Elliott Abrams, in his controversial book "Faith or Fear: How Jews Can Survive in a Christian America." Millions of Jews no longer fear God. Instead, they fear people – even other Jews – who believe in God. This cannot continue if Judaism is to survive in America.

"A return to Judaism must, inevitably, leave some Jews by the wayside," concludes the former Reagan administration assistant secretary of state. "Those who have lost all religious faith are tied to the community only by brittle bonds of ethnic memory, family history or personal interpretations of Judaism as a social or political force. They are free to entertain their own definitions of Judaism, but the organized Jewish community has no such luxury in the face of demographic disaster."

It's impossible to avoid the statistics. Once, Jews made up nearly 4 percent of the U.S. population. Today the figure is just over 2 percent. A recent American Jewish yearbook found a "core" population of 5.9 million practicing Jews, converts and "secular Jews." While most writers focus on intermarriage trends, Abrams also pays close attention to issues of faith. For example, a 1990 poll found that 1.1 million people of Jewish descent now claim no religion at all and another 1.3 million practice another faith. The researchers said only 484,000 American Jews regularly attend synagogue or temple services.

What to do? Everyone knows Jewish marriages tend to produce Jewish children and that Jewish marriages are more likely to occur among observant Jews, said Abrams. One of the only reliable ways to encourage traditional Jewish faith is to send children to Jewish schools. This will require a strategic change in most Jewish communities.

"If we went from 1 to 2 percent of Jewish children receiving a Jewish education to about 10 percent, even that would be a big change," he said. "Above all, it would be a sign that the community is once again thinking about the future. This also would produce a new generation of Jewish leaders."

But for traditional faith and education to increase, many Jewish leaders will have to face their own prejudices against the Orthodox. Abrams notes that most American Jews would "be more upset to learn that a child of theirs was to marry an Orthodox Jew and become Orthodox than that their child was marrying a non-Jew and was going to lead a secular existence."

In one pivotal 1994 case, mainstream Jewish groups united in opposition to an Orthodox community seeking government support for education of its disabled children. Apparently it is not enough for the state to be neutral on religion. Instead, "any state action whose effect is to help parents keep their children faithful to their religious beliefs" must now be ruled unconstitutional, said Abrams. "The elements of the Jewish community having the greatest difficulty keeping their children Jewish used the courts to attack the practice by which the elements having the greatest success keeping their children Jewish were doing so."

These kinds of debates almost always return to issues of faith. Even Jews who seek unity in ethnicity or social ethics will face eternal questions. Is God real? Does God want Jews to live a certain way? Does the Torah - the scriptural heart of Judaism – have authority today?

"It's hard to say that the Torah is relevant when it talks about peace and justice, but it's out-of-date when it talks about marriage and family life," said Abrams. "That just doesn't work. It's a pick-and-choose brand of faith. That kind of truth has no transcendence, no power, and it doesn't last from generation to generation. It can't hold people together."

The Promise Keepers Catch 22

WASHINGTON – Just before last weekend's Promise Keepers rally, a coalition of feminist groups met with news crews to issue challenges to the men massed nearby on the National Mall.

The National Coalition Against Domestic Violence made a very specific request.

"It is essential for the leadership and membership of the Promise Keepers to speak out against all acts of family violence and sexual assault, as well as to reject attitudes that too often fuel such violence," said spokesperson Pamela Coukos.

Three hours later, a Promise Keeper leader stressed that it is time for men to stop committing the same old sins.

"Two of them must end today. When it comes to marriage and family – no more abuse and no more abandonment," shouted Bruce Fong of Multnomah Biblical Seminary, during a six-speaker segment of the rally dedicated to such issues. "The Bible is very clear. ... A husband should love his wife as Christ loved the church and gave his life for it. It's very simple, very clear. Battery is not included."

But there's a problem. Feminists can't hear these appeals because they are linked to calls for husbands to serve as the spiritual leaders of their families. It's this simple: one side believes that traditional Christianity can heal the wounds in homes today; the other is convinced that Christian tradition is the root cause of the suffering.

So the more the Promise Keepers say one thing, the louder their critics chant that they mean exactly the opposite. It's a Catch 22. For example, the movement's leaders keep trying to avoid partisan political statements. To critics, this only proves the Promise Keepers are both dishonest and dangerous - the Christian right flying in stealth mode.

"Why has a multitude of men from almost every city in the United States ...come to our nation's capital?", asked Promise Keepers President Randy Phillips. "Is it to demonstrate political might? No. Is it to display masculine strength? No. Is it to take back the nation by imposing our religious values on others? No. ... When it comes to politics and faith, we confess that we have had too high a view of the ability of man and too low a trust in the sovereignty of God."

To which the left responds: there they go again.

"Deceptive and carefully conceived," said a statement from the Center for Democratic Study, "Promise Keepers attempts to mainstream its image by using a seductive vocabulary of male-only self-improvement, opposition to religious `denominationalism,' and an alleged commitment to racial 'reconciliation,' to advance the strategic political agenda of the Christian right."

The historic "Stand in the Gap" assembly in Washington, D.C., offered ample proof that Promise Keepers is primarily a religious phenomenon. Yet secularists and the Christian left are correct when they say its message has political overtones. There's a reason for this: America's most divisive political issues - such as abortion and the redefining of marriage and family – center on questions of religion and morality.

Using relentlessly biblical language, speaker after speaker told those packed onto the Mall that the sins of modern men have produced millions of abandoned, abused and aborted children and a climate of sexual confusion that is wrecking homes and marriages. Promise Keeper's leaders called for repentance and urged the church to act.

Trouble is, "sin" and "family" are now fighting words, especially when spoken with the U.S. Capitol looming in the background. However, the Promise Keepers coalition includes men with ties to the Religious Right and many from groups – primarily black churches – that historically vote Democratic. Increased efforts to reach conservative Catholics and mainline Protestants will add variations on the movement's morally conservative themes.

Maybe this really is about "guilt and grace, shame and forgiveness, repentance and resolve" and men striving to change, said church historian Martin Marty, in the New York Times. "Is it not possible that this sprawling movement is, in its present expression, as benign and as simple as that? ... Instead of seeing a threat, we should listen for what is really bothering the men. Perhaps this most recent 'muscular Christian' phenomenon is sincere at its core."

Catholics, evangelicals & Promise Keepers

Even critics of the Promise Keepers movement would have to concede that its leaders have shown an uncanny knack for crunching complex issues into mantras that men can chant in stadiums or, this Saturday, on the National Mall.

A classic example occurred at last year's rally for 42,000 clergy in Atlanta.

The movement is built on seven promises about faith, marriage and family life. The sixth commits a Promise Keeper to reach beyond any "denominational barriers to demonstrate the power of biblical unity." Thus, superstar writer and preacher Max Lucado asked each pastor in the Georgia Dome, on the count of three, to shout his denomination's name. The created a verbal train wreck. Next, he asked them to name their savior, which drew a unified shout – "Jesus!" – followed by lots of hugs.

It was a joyful moment linked to a painful reality. Any movement that asks believers to pray, witness and work together will eventually be accused of watering down essentials of the faith. This is especially true on the conservative side of the ecumenical aisle, where evangelicals, fundamentalists, charismatics, Calvinists and Catholics keep bumping into one another. Some barriers are higher than others.

"I think we have a lot in common. But there are some obvious communications problems to overcome," said evangelist Jim Berlucchi, who this summer became the first Catholic to play a high-profile role in several Promise Keepers rallies.

Earlier this year, business leader Michael Timmis of Detroit also became the first Catholic on the group's board of directors. Timmis will be a featured speaker during the five-hour "Stand in the Gap" rally in Washington, D.C. Catholics also have been taking another look at Promise Keepers after a positive report on the movement from the U.S. Catholic Bishops' Committee on Marriage and Family Life.

"I think, initially, that Catholic leaders perceived Promise Keepers to be just what it was - an evangelical Protestant movement," said Berlucchi. "It certainly wasn't connected to the Catholic faith. ... But there was something about these big events that was very appealing to all kinds of men – including Catholic men – even though the whole style was so evangelical."

Catholic leaders knew that many Catholics were going to Promise Keeper events with Protestant friends. Some observers put the Catholic participation figure as high was 10 and 20 percent of those in attendance. Reports circulated that some Catholics were making decisions to change their lives - including changing churches. Many noted that Promise Keeper founder Bill McCartney was an active Catholic, before joining an independent charismatic congregation.

"But the more Catholic leaders looked at Promise Keepers, the more they saw themes they obviously could affirm," said Berlucchi. "Catholics are all for men taking responsibility, caring for their wives and families, being willing to take more of a leadership role in their own homes and seeking accountability and spiritual direction."

This doesn't mean everyone is ecstatic. The Fundamental Baptist New Service issued this warning: "The Bible commands us to mark and avoid those who cause divisions contrary to the doctrine which we have been taught in God's Word. ...Certainly this means that God forbids us to fellowship with a movement which accepts Roman Catholic bishops and priests as brothers in Christ."

Meanwhile, Catholic progressives – especially feminists – distrust Promise Keepers as much as do their secular counterparts. The group's success also reminds the hierarchy that U.S. parishes have, in recent decades, had trouble appealing to men. There is, noted Berlucchi, a "certain lack of virility" in much of today's worship. Thus, many Catholics have embraced the take-no-prisoners style of music, prayer and preaching at Promise Keepers events.

"The messages are very challenging and in-your-face," he said. "They take on issues that men know are real. Men like that. They look around those stadiums and see thousands of other men responding to that. ... And all of this is taking place in the context of a wider cultural crisis and great confusion about what it means to be a man. Catholics are not immune to that."