Happy Lutheran

This book, The End of Theological Education, by Ted Smith, is part of a larger series, “Theological Education Between the Times.” I have read several books in this series, and I highly recommend them; you can find out more about it here: https://www.htiopenplaza.org/tebt#:~:text=The%20Theological%20Education%20between%20the,of%20this%20time%20of%20transition.

I read this particular book over the weekend, and I thought it was really, really good. I am still thinking about it, and processing some of Smith’s observations, propositions, and encouragements. In this post, I want to share some of his insights that have stayed with me, because I think they are worth more reflection–certainly for those of us in theological education, but really for anyone who cares about the church and the role of the church in contemporary society.

He starts the book with a story–the story of Lyman Beecher, Presbyterian minister, seminary president, father of Harriet Beecher Stowe, and both witness to and agent of a significant change in the role and place of the church in 19th Century United States society. Smith uses Beecher’s story to illustrate one of the fundamental points the book makes: in the US, the church began as a standing order, part of the establishment; moved to a voluntary association [this happened in Beecher’s time], the congregation; and is now taking a new shape [not yet fully determined] in an age of authentic individuals. And in the course of Smith’s analysis, he repeatedly makes two points:

1. Change is not new for the church
2. God is with us, present and working in this change

The book is a descriptive [and sometimes proscriptive] narrative that chronicles this movement from order to association to individuals, with clear-eyed realism, but also sure confidence in God’s presence and the trust that something new can also be something good.

Part of his narrative is an analysis of the decline in church attendance [and a corresponding decline in belief, affiliation, and giving]–and this is across the board, not just in mainline denominations. As we are all aware, this decline is pushing “congregations beneath the threshold needed for survival in their present form” [102].

He rejects the easy answer of “secularization” as the cause of this decline:

The best description of this dynamic is not secularization, but a waning of the powers of institutional isomorphism that pressed past generations of meaning-making into congregations, denominations, and other institutions in the network of voluntary associations [76].

The quote is a mouthful, but I get his point: people are finding other ways to make meaning, and they are seeking out other kinds of identity-forming experiences. In short, he argues that what is declining is not so much religion or spirituality itself, but rather “the institutional form of the voluntary associations that have been so closely associated with religion in the United States for the last 200 years” [77]. In other words: when thinking about “organized religion,” it isn’t religion that is declining, but organization. People still long for litanies, discipline, community, and meaning and purpose–they are just finding these “religious-ish practices” other places.

Related to this, I thought one observation he makes was particularly interesting. He notes that for many people, there has been a transition from an identity based in a religious affiliation to a more secular political identity–one that includes online political engagement, donation patterns, attending rallies, etc.. About this, he says:

This transition is especially smooth when congregations have already downplayed distinctive doctrine and ritual, making them instrumental to ethical and political commitments that are the real source of identity. Some who are slipping away away from mainline congregations are simply engaging in what feels like a purer form of the pursuit of the justice the congregations have been telling them is the real meaning of the faith all along [71-72].

At Wartburg, we actually talk about this reality often, wanting to make sure our student formation is grounded in the gospel of Jesus Christ and the freedom that the gospel brings, which is the freedom out of which we are called into service of the neighbor, the stranger and the enemy. The gospel is the center; the pursuit of justice flows from it.

Smith also talks about time. He notes that sustaining voluntary associations takes time–this is the volunteer time congregations ask of their members to support their various ministries. He writes,

When whole economies are built on the ability to colonize the hours in our days [“greedy professions,” a “youth sports-industrial complex” and a “broader meritocratic Hunger Games for young people that knows no Sabbath,” and “digital technologies designed to capture as much of our attention as they can”], we should not be surprised to see markers of affiliation decline [72].

He also talks about individualization, and he makes clear that this is not just about personal choices, but a larger network of external forces: Individualization is “a historically contingent but powerful set of social processes that operate on us, forming us as certain kinds of individuals. Individualization is not just something we believe; it’s something that happens to us, whether we believe it or not” [78-79]. In this context, in which an individual undergoes “a dis-embedding [from communities] without a re-embedding [into new ones]”:

Everything must be decided; stripped of ready-made biographies, the individual becomes homo optionis, a person defined by having choices [79].

In such a context, the spiritual practices that appeal to people are those that promise “intense individual experiences, authentic expressions, and heartfelt connections to God and to other people” [90].

He then shifts into a description of a metaphor of unraveling, which I find really interesting and very fruitful. He writes:

Instead of decline, I see this time between the times as one of unraveling. The consolidations of the age of voluntary associations are coming undone. Space is opening between the institutions, individuals, and ideals once woven so tightly together…There is judgment in this unraveling…There are also losses worthy of lament. There is a kind of revelation, like the unraveling of a riddle or a mystery. And there are new, fragile possibilities. Picked apart from one another, individual threads can’t carry as much weight as they did when they were woven together. But they endure. Even now, threads of the love of learning, and the desire for God are available to be woven together with other threads into a fallible, faithful pattern. A time of unraveling can feel like the end of the world. It can be a time for grief, penitence, and discernment. But it is not a time for despair [97].

In response to this unraveling, Smith describes various affordances we can take hold of and work with, responding to the power of God in our midst and God’s invitation to do a new thing. He writes:

God enter history, not with a blueprint for our buildings, but with a cross that cleaves the ground on which they stand. Christian practical reasoning does not try to apply a norm. Instead, it involves discerning the work God’s love has done….and finding affordances that might be used in free and faithful responses. We do not marshal affordances to build a new temple, for they do not fit together in such grand ways. Besides, in the city for which we yearn, there is no temple, for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. Instead, we put the pieces together to build tabernacles, portable shelters for our sojourns in the desert of the meantime. And God meet us there [133].

Some of the affordances he names, particularly for theological education, are: authenticity, changing demographics, new ministry models, new institutional partnerships and configurations, and, of course, the abiding love of God. These affordances can help us respond to our current situation, in which “a social imaginary centered on authentic individual is emerging in the wake of this unraveling” [167].

There is more I could say, but this post already too long. Let me close with my favorite quote in the book, from one of my favorite authors. Smith quotes these words from Thomas Merton’s Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander:

In a time of drastic change one can be too preoccupied with what is ending or too obsessed with what seems to be beginning. In either case, one loses touch with the present and with its obscure but dynamic possibilities. What really matters is openness, readiness, attention, courage to face risk. You do not need to know precisely what is happening, or exactly where it is all going. What you need is to recognize the possibilities and challenges offered by the present moment, and to embrace them with courage, faith, and hope. In such an event, courage is the authentic form taken by love [167].

God’s love makes our courage possible, and invites it in this present moment.