Throwaway Religion

In spite of overflowing landfills and a growing emphasis on the need to recycle, we still tend to live in a disposable, throwaway culture. If something no longer works, we do not fix it. We throw it away and buy a new one. In fact, it is often less expensive to replace a broken item than to pay the cost of repairing it. Even worse is when something still performs the function for which it was designed, but when a newer version offers upgrades and features the older model did not have, we buy the latest model and toss out the old one, even though the old one worked perfectly fine.

Are faith, religion and spirituality any different? Do we invest in repairing what is broken or simply toss it out and start over? Do we throw away what seems old and outdated so that we can replace it with the latest fashion trends in faith traditions?

I realize I am ruminating of existential things, ethereal ideas and concepts rather than physical consumer items, but ponder I must. Recently seeing a faded and dusty framed copy of DaVinci’s Last Supper thrown out with the trash is what has ignited my brooding. The sight caused me to reflect upon the disposable nature of our contemporary religious convictions, or lack of. While there is certainly nothing sacrilegious about throwing away something like a reproduction of DaVinci’s Last Supper, the sight of this framed print next to trashcan on the street seemed like a metaphor of contemporary devotion, or lack of, to mystery.

I wondered if the former owner of this DaVinci print grew tired of the faith it represented and dumped it along with their beliefs. On the other hand, perhaps they disposed of it and replaced it with a print of Dali’s Last Supper, or a framed photo of the Dali Lama or Mecca. Maybe they simply moved out of the apartment, left the print behind, and the property owner was the one to trash the print when the cleaned up the mess left behind. There is a story behind that print that I do not know and will never know. There are also stories associated with aging, declining, decaying, dying, churches that begging to be told and to teach us their lessons.

Out of the Swamp to Madison Avenue

The Presbytery of New York City met today at Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church (photo right), one of its larger and more prestigious churches. According to the congregation’s history, however, the church that is now Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church was called "The church in the swamp" when it was established in 1834 near the Lower East Side shipyards. That history compels me to adapt a familiar adage for church leaders and suggest that when you are up to your ass in alligators it is hard to remember that your main objective was to establish and grow a church. And Madison Avenue has certainly grown since its founding in 1834.

Madison Avenue’s history notes that its 20th century started poorly. After another congregation had merged with Madison Avenue, the two congregations “did not meld well” and “members fell away until the merged church's rolls dropped below those of either of its constituents at the time of the union.”

The congregation’s history continues to report, however, that the situation and the church’s prospects “changed dramatically with the arrival of the young Dr. [Henry Sloane] Coffin, only five years out of the Union Theological Seminary (Some said that the church could not then afford a more established preacher).”

I wonder, if the congregation could have, at that time, afforded a more established preacher than Henry Sloane Coffin and had called him (it would have been a “him” in 1905), if the congregation’s history under that new established preacher would have been one as equally “of remarkable growth and transformation” as it was under Coffin. Sometimes safe and secure "establishment" bets end up being safe and secure, maintaining the establishment status quo, when what is needed for transformation and growth is risk taking, even the risk of the church losing its life as it undertakes it mission (G-3.0400 in the book of Order).

I am not suggesting or calling for careless risk, but rather churches and presbyteries (regional governing bodies) and even whole denominations taking the risk of trying new ideas, calling and empowering young and untested but visionary leaders, being willing to rock the establishment boat, and recognizing that it might be easier to move out of the swamp than trying to drain it.