"I will never believe he is a child of God, who belongs to that vile congregation!"

Joe Ravi via Wikimedia Commons

These are the words of John Wesley, as he tells his listeners that they should never say such a thing.  He spoke them in the funeral he preached for his friend and theological foe, George Whitefield. Whitefield was Calvinist, and Wesley was Arminian.  Their theological differences split the followers of The Great Awakening, yet Whitefield wrote in 1741, “It would have melted any heart to have heard Mr. Charles Wesley and me weeping, after prayer, that if possible the breach might be prevented.” They loved each other until death. Their letters are evidence of their friendship and respect, even when they were written to outline their disagreements.

Last fall, my family joined a new church (UMC), and I've now had my name on nine church membership rolls in four different denominations. If I count up ALL of the churches where I've spent at least 8 months worshiping and/or serving as organist, whether a member or not, I can count 18 churches in 9 denominations in 10 cities. This is what happens when you pursue different music degrees in different towns where you might start to worship in one church, then subsequently become employed in another, and after all of that, marry a Navy guy whose duty station moves around. I never set out to be involved with so many different churches, but that's how the cookie has crumbled.

As I was driving my daughter to school this morning, we were talking about how unusual it is to have been a part of so many churches. She said, "I guess you've seen how they are all different." I have, and I have not agreed with all of the various second-tier doctrines I've encountered in all of those churches, but what strikes me most is how they are the same. If a group made up of all of the brothers and sisters I've come to know from Baptists to Episcopals to Catholics and everything in between were all told that they were about to be executed unless they denied their belief in Jesus, I'm quite sure they'd join their hands and die together, united in love if not every point of doctrine. It's funny how our differences fall away when real danger or crisis hits.

One of the highlights of my career as an organist was right after 9/11 when I played for a service that was open to all of the churches in town. Our church was packed and then some. I'd never used the tutti button that brought on all of the stops on our pipe organ because it was painfully loud. So, I set registrations for the hymns as loud as I thought I tastefully could, knowing that the huge crowd would require it, but avoiding the tutti. When they started singing, I couldn't hear the organ. I added more stops. I still couldn't hear myself. So, I gave up, and while still in the first verse, I pressed the tutti button. Normally, the sudden burst of sound would have been such a jolt that they might have even stopped singing, but  I still couldn't hear the organ, they sang so loudly. I don't know for sure how many denominations were actually represented that day, but potentially there were Southern Baptists, African Baptists, Presbyterians both PCUSA and PCA, Methodists, Episcopals, African Methodist Episcopals, and Catholics joining their voices to sing

   Our God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come
   Our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home.
   Under the shadow of thy throne, thy saints have dwelt secure,
   Sufficient is thine arm alone, and our defense is sure.

I played every verse of every hymn on the tutti and was so drowned out by that great wave of voices that it hardly mattered if I played at all. My role was just getting them all started at the same time on the same note, but I felt privileged to be at the organ that day and to do even that. I think it was a glimpse of heaven.

In the wake of the horrific slaughter of 21 Coptic Christians by Isis, I'm heartened to see fellow Christians remembering that what our denominations have in common might be greater than our doctrinal differences. Churches which previously considered the Coptics a target for their missions programs are now calling them Christian martyrs.  I agree, and I believe with all my heart that God welcomed them into His presence. But, honestly, I'm struggling with the whiplash change of perspective by evangelicals. Like Catholics, Coptics have their own pope, venerate (not worship) saints and icons, and place an emphasis on works along with faith as part of the process of salvation. (I worded that very carefully. After two years of serving in a Catholic church, I'm convinced that evangelicals misunderstand the terminology that Catholics use about salvation.) Considering the many rather ugly things I've heard said about these Catholic/Orthodox beliefs and practices over the years, I'm really wondering about the sincerity of the sudden turn-around. I disagree strongly with his belief that these Coptics weren't Christian; however, I do appreciate the validity of this point: "We cannot consider the Coptics an unreached people group by the IMB (the International Missions Board of the SBC) one day and then call them Christian martyrs the next."

Many such Christians belonging to groups that some evangelicals would not have considered truly Christian (sola fide, sola scriptura) have already suffered horrendous persecution, torture, and death, but only in the face of this very public slaughter have they made such a show of solidarity with them. I sincerely hope that the inclusion now being offered them reflects a real change of heart, and not just a change of image.

The conditions of our world call on us all to re-examine what we believe about ecumenism and how we live those beliefs. The danger inherent in ecumenism is that we sacrifice the search for truth in favor of an anything-goes approval. I'm not suggesting that we do that. I believe the truths found in the Nicene creed, and I affirm that the search for truth in the Bible is what forms our faith. It is an essential, not an extra. But I don't have to align with every second-tier doctrine of a church to consider its members my brothers and sisters in Christ. Wesley and Whitehead didn't give up their convictions either, but their love never flagged. Jesus prayed that we would not be divided, and I believe that this dictates that we:  1) make a distinction between first-tier and second-tier doctrine, and 2) we be at least as patient with and kind toward our brothers and sisters as they search for truth as God is with us. I am human. My human brain is inadequate to fully grasp God's truth just as my human language is inadequate to describe it. Thank goodness my salvation doesn't depend on getting a passing percentage score on a final doctrinal exam. Grace is my only ticket into heaven.

And so, while I have not been able to join all of these churches because of differences in belief, I am privileged to have worshiped alongside my brothers and sisters who are Catholic, Episcopal, Southern Baptists, CBF Baptists, Presbyterians from PCUSA and PCA, Anglicans, United Methodists, and non-denominational Christians. It turns out that it's one thing to read about these denominations and another thing entirely to sing with them, pray with them, dialogue with them, serve the poor with them, go on retreats with them, and walk the halls of nursing homes singing Christmas carols with them. Some understandings can only be reached face-to-face. I pray that everyone who recites, "I believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church" will want to exercise that belief in some way beyond just getting a bunch of different church choirs together for a yearly concert. (So safe, eh?) A good start would be to commit to always speaking with respect toward those with whom we disagree on facebook, twitter, etc. Another good practice would be to regularly meet together in person and have respectful dialogue about our beliefs and how we can work together to bring about God's Kingdom.

I believe, like Wesley and Whitehead, that we'll be living together in God's eternal kingdom when we learn whose second-tier doctrines turn out to be right, if we even care anymore who was right or wrong once we come face to face with the God of all. I pray that we'll follow the example of Wesley and Whitehead in our dealings with each other. I Corinthians 13 is a pretty good guide for how we should handle those dealings. If I speak with the very language of the angels themselves, though I have all wisdom, but have not love, well, you know the rest. It says that knowledge and wisdom will pass away and only love will remain. I pray that we will fully believe that, and that our dealings with one another will reflect it. The challenge is that we are called to fully invest ourselves in the search for truth, and also called never to allow our very human grasp of God's truth to stand in the way of love.