Semper Reformanda
John Shuck
First Presbyterian Church
Elizabethton, Tennessee
October 30, 2005
Reformation Sunday
Jesus said,
“Salt is good and salty, but if it becomes bland—
loses its zing—
with what will you renew it?”
Mark 9:50a
Today is Reformation Sunday. Our congregation is an inheritor of the Reformed theological tradition. We trace our roots to Luther via Calvin. A phrase used to describe our theological tradition goes like this, in the Latin:
Reformata Semper Reformanda. In English, “Reformed, Always Reforming.”
There is much tension and debate within the church as to where we should place our emphasis. Should we stress Reformata or Reformanda?
Should we hold closely to the Reformed doctrines as outlined in Calvin’s Institutes and the wisdom of the Westminster Divines?
Or should we explore and seek after new ways of expressing our faith?
The title of my sermon probably gives me away. I tend to identify with those on the reforming end of the church. However, I also believe our church is richer when we keep our connection with our tradition and with those who uphold it, as turbulent as that can be.
But, I have a bigger issue.
I tend to think that the church is making itself irrelevant not because it doesn’t reform or because it reforms too easily, but because it is focused on itself. I am finding myself less and less concerned about the interests of the institution. I am not sure if it matters that much whether the church reforms or doesn’t reform along the lines of current argument.
This is what I mean. This is the bigger issue.
I have a nephew, Hunter. He is the youngest in my immediate extended family. He is almost three. I am forty-four. This is my question. Will there be a world for Hunter when he is forty-four? Of course, I mean more than Hunter, I mean all of Earth’s children as well as other species of plants and animals. I mean more than 40 years from now, 400 or 4000. But to help me focus I think of a short time span and I think of a child whom I know, love and care for personally.
That is my question. What kind of world, if there is one, will there be for Hunter in the year 2045? I do not care about the final destination of my soul, theological abstractions regarding the inner workings of the Trinity, whether or not the church will gain new members, or whether we should revise the hymnbook. I care about the future of Earth and of Earthlings. I know of no more important question than that one to direct my spiritual, intellectual, emotional, physical, and political energies.
I think my question is a church question. Whatever we think of when we think of church, it includes at least the 100 or so of us gathered here this morning. It includes millions of other people also gathered in buildings like this on this very morning doing their church thing. What more pressing question is there for all of us? What will our world be like in 2045 and what are we doing about it?
I am using this teaching from Jesus as a focus metaphor for this sermon:
Jesus said,
“Salt is good and salty, but if it becomes bland—
loses its zing—
with what will you renew it?”
I have no idea what Jesus was talking about or what possibly could have caused him to say such a thing. But as I reflected on this saying, I thought of the church and of the whole theological enterprise. I wonder if we haven’t lost our zing. It isn’t that the theology that is being written and taught in our seminaries or preached from our pulpits isn’t true or articulate, it’s just bland.
Did you know that theology used to be called the “Queen of the Sciences?” The queen of the sciences. It is laughable, now. What happened? Theology used to be about that which is most important. It has lost its zing. The reason I think it has lost its zing is because it does not speak to our present crisis.
I have read a fair amount of Christian theology, conservative to liberal. Yet in the end, in a nutshell, I feel that the traditional Christian story is one of escape. It tells us that Earth is not our home. Our home is with God in heaven, outside of the physical universe. We are immortal souls temporarily sojourning in a physical body that will be resurrected in some spiritual sphere beyond this life. I now find this story incredible and inadequate, possibly unethical, at least in its claims to be the central story to define ourselves and our role.
I can appreciate the Christian story as I appreciate a medieval work of art. I can revere it as the story of my ancestors. I can even find value in it at moments of loss for a departed loved one. But at best, it is a secondary story. For me, the story is not large enough to help me to come to terms with the challenge that human beings currently face.
It is nice every now and then to find people who agree with us.
There are many people, including theologians, who are now directing their energies to the question of our future. Many of them are with the Jesus Seminar which is why I find great value in its work. Another is Thomas Berry. Thomas Berry is an historian of cultures. I recently finished reading his book, The Great Work: Our Way Into the Future, published in 1999.
Berry says that our great work is to redefine what it means to be human. He says that we need to learn our identity from the story of the Universe. We need to learn our evolutionary history and to regard it as sacred. He challenges us to connect ourselves with Earth and with its species. We have largely used the planet as resources for human exploitation. He calls for a fundamental shift in how we view ourselves and our work. According to Berry, we are captive to the industrial-corporate-consumer complex. Our political governments, our educational systems, and our traditional religions have not met the challenge to deal with its effects. Berry puts it bluntly:
“The ideal is to take the greatest possible amount of natural resources, process these resources, put them through the consumer economy as quickly as possible, then on to the waste heap. This we consider as progress…” (p. 76)
For the first time in Earth’s history, human beings have the potential to change and in fact are changing the ecology of the planet. We are consuming more than Earth can give. Berry writes:
“It is estimated that to support our present Earth population at the level enjoyed in North America would require two or three planets.” (p. 114).
But we have one planet. We are consuming and polluting and destroying species at an out of control rate. Unless we change our direction, human beings will go the way of the passenger pigeon, through our own efforts. What are we going to do about this? Can we do anything?
I think that most of us are aware of this. Yet we feel powerless to do much. In fact, it is so much to think about, that we would rather not, and hope for the best.
We call that denial.
This is where our religious or spiritual consciousness should come in to play. To wake us up! Unfortunately, the Christian story of “the earth is not my home” is not adequate to this challenge. We need a new sense of spirituality--an Earth-based spirituality--a spirituality that is formed by the story of the evolution of the universe, and the stories of its species and its people.
A spirituality that can move us and empower us.
No longer can the Bible alone be our sacred canon. No religion or tradition can claim to have or to be the canon. The universe is our canon of scripture. We are not creatures placed on Planet Earth from the outside and to the outside we shall return. We are of the same cosmic stuff as the stars, the sun, the planets, and the earth, and all species of Earth. All of it is sacred. It and we are all part of that creative mysterious power of the universe. Yet we are ignorant of this powerful story.
If Christian theology is going to say anything meaningful and helpful, it is going to need to come down to Earth. God will have to move from His indifferent perch beyond the stars to Earth, and become incarnate with creation.
I was excited when I found this book by Christian theologian, Sallie McFague. She taught at Vanderbilt for about 30 years. She is now retired. The book is entitled: Life Abundant: Rethinking Theology and Economy for a Planet in Peril.
(Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2001)
She has written a number of books with titles such as Metaphorical Theology, Models of God, and Super, Natural Christians. In the preface to her latest book, Life Abundant, she writes:
“I have written each of my books to make up for deficiencies in the last one.” (xi)
Now that is the spirit of always reforming. In her previous book Super, Natural Christians, she talked about the importance of loving nature. But now she says of that book:
“I realized that love was not enough. I realized that middle class North Americans are destroying nature, not because we do not love it, but because of the way we live: our ordinary taken-for-granted high-consumer lifestyle. I realized that the matter of loving nature was a deep, complex, tricky question involving greed, indifference, and denial. So I have set about trying to rectify the inadequacies of my last book with yet another (inadequate) book. The thesis of this one is that we North American middle-class Christians need to live differently in order to love nature, and to live differently we need to think differently—especially about ourselves and who we are in the scheme of things.” (xi)
She says that it is time for the church to embrace an “Ecological Reformation.” We need to think differently about who we are as inhabitants of the household of Earth. We need a working theology that actually speaks the truth about our condition and enables us to change.
Sallie McFague provides a critique of our current economic model that encourages us to consume and spend without limit. She suggests that we embrace instead an Ecological Economic model that encourages sharing and conserving, recognizing that there are limits to consumption. She says that we should make our primary value that “the good life” must be a “good life” for everyone. She lists three rules for living in Earth’s household:
1) take only your own share,
2) clean up after yourself, and
3) keep the place in good repair for future generations.
The last section of her book is a constructive theology that takes ecology seriously. She is providing a model for the future of Christian theology. She is putting our tradition, by reframing and reforming it, in service of Earth and our future. I think it would be a good study book for those who are interested.
How can the church consciously embrace an Ecological Reformation? I think the role of the church is to create rituals and practices which will empower us to act and to dream toward a new future. Worship should give us the courage to move beyond denial. Worship should remind of us of our place and our responsibility and our great work. It would educate us about Earth on which we live, and inspire our creativity to dream of a way of living in which we, rather than use the planet, its resources, its species, and its people, would instead relate to them in a mutually enhancing way. Worship should empower us to act—yes, to be political.
For example, if our moral values insist that everyone in the household of Earth has adequate food, shelter, and medical care, that we need to be responsible for our waste, that we need to think of our lives in terms of future generations, then we need to hold our politicians accountable for upholding our moral values.
Christianity is, at its best, always reforming, not without pain or conflict, but in its finest hours, it can reform itself to address the crucial questions. After all, one of its enduring principles is to die to itself so it can rise to new life.
I don’t claim to know any answers. I certainly do not know the specifics of how we can go about the great work before us. I do not know how we shall renew this bland, salt that has lost its zing. All I really can hope for at this moment is to insist on keeping this question before us:
What can I do so that there will be a world for my nephew?
I hope others will ask that question as well. Perhaps in the asking, together we can find our way into a sustainable and sacred future.