In recent decades, untold numbers of people have left the Roman Catholic Church. In a 2008 survey, Pew research found that one in 10 Americans now considers themselves an ex-Catholic. The situation is so dire that the church launched a PR campaign inviting Catholics to “come home,” to woo back disgruntled members. There was a slight uptick in Catholic membership last year, mostly due to immigrant Catholics. There is no data indicating that Catholics are returning en masse and much anecdotal evidence suggesting that leaving-taking continues. Catholic leaders worry that once the new immigrants become fully part of American society they might leave, too.

The end of church, however, is not merely a Catholic problem. For decades, mainline Protestants have watched helplessly as their membership rolls dwindled, employing program after program to try to stop the decline. In the last 15 years, conservative Protestant denominations have witnessed significant erosions in membership, money and participation — with some of the greatest drops in groups like the Southern Baptist Convention that once seemed impervious to decline. In a typical week, less than a quarter of Americans attend a religious service, down from the half of the population who were regular churchgoers a generation ago.

There are successful individual congregations — Catholic or Protestant, mainline or evangelical, liberal or conservative, small or large — everywhere. But the institutional structures of American religion — denominations of all theological sorts — are in a free-fall.

The religious market collapse has happened with astonishing speed. In 1999, when survey takers asked Americans “Do you consider yourself spiritual or religious,” a solid majority of 54 percent responded that they were “religious but not spiritual.” By 2009, only 9 percent of Americans responded that way. In 10 years, those willing to identify themselves primarily as “religious” plummeted by 45 percentage points.

In the last decade, the word “religion” has become equated with institutional or organized religion. Because of crises such as the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks and the Roman Catholic abuse scandal, Americans now define “religion” in almost exclusively negative terms. These larger events, especially when combined with increasing irrelevance of too much of organized religion, contributed to an overall decline in church membership, and an overall decline of the numbers of Christians, in the United States.

There may be hope, however, regarding the future of faith. Despite worry about the word, “religion,” Americans are extremely warm toward “spiritual but not religious” (30 percent) and, even more interestingly (and perhaps paradoxically), the term “spiritual and religious” (48 percent). While “religion” means institutional religion, “spirituality” means an experience of faith. Large numbers of Americans are hankering for experiential faith whereby they can connect with God, the divine, or wonder as well as with their neighbors and that lead to a more profound sense of meaning in the world. Maybe Americans once called this “religion,” but no more. Americans call it “spirituality.”

Some Americans want to be spiritually left alone, without complications from organized religion. But nearly half of Americans appear to hope for a spiritual reformation — or even revolution — in their faith traditions and denominations. Congregations that exhibit a vibrant spiritual life embodying a living faith in practical ways succeeding, even in the religion bear market. These sorts of communities are models of what might be possible to renew wearied organizations. But the macro-structures of American faith — denominations — have yet to hear this message. They are still trying to fix institutional problems and flex political muscle instead of tending to the spiritual longings of regular Americans.

“Spiritual and religious” expresses a grassroots desire for new kinds of faith communities, where institutional structures do not inhibit or impede one’s relationship with God or neighbor. Americans are searching for churches — and temples, synagogues, and mosques — that are not caught up in political intrigue, rigid rules and prohibitions, institutional maintenance, unresponsive authorities, and inflexible dogma but instead offer pathways of life-giving spiritual experience, connection, meaning, vocation, and doing justice in the world. Americans are not rejecting faith — they are, however, rejecting self-serving religious institutions.

The end of conventional church isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Christianity after religion, a faith renewed by the experience of God’s spirit, is closer to what Jesus hoped for his followers than the scandalous division, politics, and enmity we have now. Will there still be Christianity after the end of institutional religion? Yes, there will be. But it is going to be different than what Americans have known, a faith responsive to the longings of those who are expecting more spiritual depth and greater ethical integrity rather than more conventional church. Indeed, I suspect that the end of church is only the beginning of a new Great Awakening.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/diana-butler-bass/the-end-of-church_b_1284954.html

Picture: Cláudio Carvalhaes

(F.J. Vitoria Cormenzana)

“La intolerancia no es sólo un pecado del conservadurismo eclesial,

sino también del progresismo”

“A intolerância não é apenas um pecado de conservadorismo eclesiástico, mas do liberalismo”

Frank Yamada, 10th president of McCormick Theological Seminary

Courtesy of McCormick Theological Seminary

February 13, 2012, Chicago - Presbyterian News Service, Jerry L. Van Marter

By 2040 there will be no majority racial ethnic group in the United States, so theologians and seminaries must lead the way in “helping us see our futures in the plural lest we die in our lack of understanding of each other,” said the Rev. Frank Yamada in his inaugural address Feb. 8 as the 10^th president of McCormick Theological Seminary here.

Speaking to a crowd of several hundred McCormick supporters that was nevertheless dwarfed by the cavernous Apostolic Church of God where the inaugural was held, Yamada said the coming egalitarian demographic “is good news,” adding, “It doesn’t mean racial inequality will vanish and racism will end, but that diversity will no longer be a goal or an ideal but a reality ― a more diverse image of who we are as a people.”

Yamada said “our attempts to make futures a singular future is our problem. There is something alluring about trying to reduce life to the singular.”

But citing the Pentecost story from Acts, he continued, “God disrupts the one and creates many, cultures and languages, all in the plural. God prefers diversity over singularity.” The Pentecost experience of many languages, all of which were understood, is a reversal of the Babel story in the Old Testament, where many languages were spoken and no one understood.

American society has failed by only seeing racial and cultural diversity as “a problem to overcome. That’s why we get silly policies like ‘English-only’ education,” he said.

And though 21^st century life is becoming more and more complex, said Yamada ― the first Asian American to serve as president of a Presbyterian seminary ― “God’s truth is often simple and clear: love God, love neighbor. If we could get these correct, the world would be a far better place.”

The mission of the church and of its seminaries is equally simple, Yamada said ― to teach, proclaim and live the Good News. “But all of our planning and bureaucracy are attempts to fend off institutional collapse, not spread the gospel.”

Yamada said he embarks on his McCormick presidency with “great hope for our futures,” but not solutions. Those, he said, belong to God.

“I don’t know the answer and for awhile it really bothered me because everyone else seems to have answers and visions,” he said. “What I know is that the futures will be different, but how and what they will look like and how we are in alignment I can’t tell.

“Instead of what is my vision or our vision, the question is ‘what is God’s vision?’ Yamada said.  “What is God up to in the world? That turns my faith in myself or in others’ answers into faith in the One who holds the future of the world. Because this is God’s work, my thinking can turn to listening.”

That listening is key, Yamada said. “When we listen to what God is doing, our vision becomes clearer, less a problem to be solved than a vision that God has set before us and is doing through us …. It presents us with the challenge to live more faithfully to what God is doing through us and wants us to do in the futures.”

Yamada said there is already a diverse generation of religious leaders ― such as Muslim youth activist Eboo Patel ― “who see this vision and they might change the world if we let them.”

Technolological advances are revolutionizing education. “If we listen, these amazing things in education are already happening,” he said. “We just have to listen and let them play, let this generation loose in the classroom and in the church ― they will transform both.”

Setting people of faith loose to pursue God’s futures ― “giving this and coming generations the freedom to play, will create a future more faithful than we could ever imagine,” Yamada said. “Another Pentecost ― cacophonous and beautiful.”

Before the sunset,  and my body finally rest at night,

may I wake up just to see your face.

I ask you, o God, humbly

that your peace flood my life and my family, the lives of my friends and neighbors …

I pray, with all my strength, that the same peace blossom forth

in my city and my country, on this continent and in the world

And if in your infinite goodness

You give me the opportunity to see a new day,

give me courage to work with all your sons and daughters,

arm in arm, heart to heart,

until your peace become a reality among all beings who inhabit this earth. Amen.

(Elizabeth Hernandez, Mexico. Taken from the Book of Worship of the Board of ClaI V)

 in community, as we are:

 bereaved and burdened,

 happy and blessed,

elderly and youth,

hosts and guests.

Each and all are welcome

nobody will be left out and no one should be excluded.

The bread that gives life is for everyone.

And the  wine, the sign of the feast,  is the reason of this invitation

and around which we gather.

(from the book Laudate Dominum, edited by Francisco Marrero) – Picture: Cláudio Carvalhaes

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing. 2 Timothy 4: 7-8

This past Wednesday professor Archibald Mulford Woodruff died. He and his wife Linnis were missionaries of the PCUSA and dedicated their lives to make Brazil a better place. Linnis studied Law once again in Brazil and was always on the side of the poor and destituted. She defended city homeless people. She now lost her beloved husband who was a brilliant  thinker, a great professor with a  very compassionate heart. They left an apt to the Independent Presbyterian Church of Brazil where now theology students live. Prof Archibald taught me Greek and Introduction to the Old Testament. It was through him that I first read Norman Gottwald and Jorge Pixley. Prof. Archibald spoke 7 languages fluently and knew so much about the world of the Bible. He became  a fascinating liberation biblical scholar and helped educate at least 3 generations of students in Brazil. He and Linnis came to visit me and Esther when we lived in Massachusetts  and offered their house in Maine for vacation. Now, we don’t have his company. Brazil will never be the same without him. Neither will we. I deeply honor my professor and friend.