Church of the Saviour, Part II

This is part II in a series that simply compares Church of the Saviour in Washington D.C., to Columbia Presbyterian and Alcoholics Anonymous. While Saviour’s style and emphasis do not dovetail to most of my preferences, I am intrigued and inspired by its radicalism and commitment to serving Christ. I am also interested in some of the similarities in its practices to Alcoholics Anonymous. I am not qualified to recommend CPC be one way or the other, or to criticize Church of the Saviour. I simply think that its practices provide us another opportunity to reflect on our communal life and thereby be enriched in Christ.

The bolds are the church’s, but the italics and the Roman numerals are mine.

Part II

IV. In small mission groups members gather around a shared vision for embodying healing and hope—the outward journey—and the group then becomes accountable to one another for the inward journey, including ordered practices in the areas of prayer, study, money, health, work life and so on. In this way the mission group members, and all with whom they are in relationship on the outward journey, help one another find fullness of life.

That’s an intentional methodology for spiritual transformation, and much less amorphous than ours. The small groups gather around a shared ministry—for instance, my niece’s interest is nuclear disarmament. In and during that fellowship, members also hold one another accountable to practice the spiritual disciplines they commit to as members. Those disciplines include prayer, study, meditation and journaling.

Do we practice something similar to this at Columbia Presbyterian? I think so but it’s not placed at the center of our institutional life and I don’t think we are as ambitious or deliberate about participation’s role in the “inward journey.” For instance, small groups at CPC provide settings in which we develop relationships and get to know other members well. And, we do not underestimate their importance. Some believe the health of a church is reflected and /or determined by the vibrancy of its small groups. It seems likely that in the friendships that develop some accountability occurs. But it’s improbable that in those groups we question whether the other members are doing all they can to walk like Christ regarding “money, health, work life and so on.”

For instance, in choir, over the years I’ve gotten to know Jim Van Duys fairly well, one of the perks of being in choir. In terms of accountability, we might bust each other up, but that’s about technical proficiency with the music. What we do there is like team members encouraging each other to play better. He’d be surprised if I asked him how vibrant his prayer life is because “the inner journey”—though supported by choir participation—is not this small group’s primary purpose.

On the other hand, in my prayer group, we share personally and such sharing is certainly central to our purposes. Accountability is more likely there but—mostly because it’s a mixed group—it’s unlikely that I’d unpack my ground-zero stuff in a fashion where I’d be possible to be held accountable for the darker stuff. Where would I go for that? Well, I can name four people from church I trust, and at least half dozen more I’d consider in a s--t storm. And I can name as many people in AA as well. So, I am a blessed man for being so connected. Accountability can happen, but except for my most outrageous social faux pas, I am not held accountable unless I proactively seek it.

We might consider whether we ought to hold one another more accountable at CPC. It’s been brought to my attention that elders are responsible for the spiritual nurture of the church and surely that includes promoting the inner journey. It seems like that would feel weird here because we regard highly one another’s autonomy and unless asked, it seems presumptuous to question another’s spiritual practices. Maybe what could be promoted here is “mutual, personal support” for the inner journey.

In AA, mutual, personal support begins with a common admission of powerlessness. That admission is followed by gut-honest sharing, and that is generally followed by the group’s feedback, more or less to the point. It’s considered in bad form to tell someone what they ought to do. But it’s in good form to share what was learned by each person’s experience with similar problems. This methodology works on a bunch a folks who really don’t like to be told what to do.

Could that—AA’s approach—work here? I don’t know. First, I am not so sure that we recognize our version of powerlessness—our utter inability to stand righteous before a holy God—into our daily shared conversation. Second, our respectable, polite, dry-cleaned yuppie persona has deemed it an imposition upon others to admit when asked that “no, things aren’t OK, and as a matter of fact, that’s one reason I’m here.” Face it: we’re Decatur Presbyterians and a tad precious about both our dignity and autonomy. Maybe that’s why we’re called “God’s frozen people.” Does it mean we really don’t believe we need help? If so, how do you throw yourself at the foot of the cross if you don’t know that you need a saviour? And how can sinners feel welcome here unless we admit what we are?

There’s something else, something we haven’t mentioned yet and something that I believe might be taken for granted in “Saviour’s” methodology. Institutionally we reflect that we believe there is more to it (salvation) than the inward journey (especially as a function of our practices and behavior) and it points back at traditional worship. What is the previously-mentioned, amorphous, CPC methodology for transformation? First and centrally, we trust the power of the Word of God. It is taught, it is read, and it is proclaimed and reclaimed weekly. We act as if the hearing of it will do more for us than inform our deliberations and our efforts. We act as if simply hearing the story will make us part of the story. We act as if it has power. Oh, that it would find fertile ground in us in Jesus name!

I imagine we can be criticized for that; one could say hearing by itself without a promulgated program of response (called “Law” in some circles) is simply selfishness. But I have yet to see someone touched in the spirit by the story who does not start to strive in some way to mirror the Holiness at the heart of the story, and in some way work to heal some small part of creation. It happens. He makes us want to be better humans. We only have to stand near Him and we want to be better.

And we exhort and encourage such efforts, and some of that cheerleading hurts us because we come to identify our efforts and our example with the gospel. And folks, it’s not so much about what we are or what we do: it’s about what Jesus has already done. It’s about Him. If it is about us, it’s about what we believe, and we say such belief comes from hearing. Maybe that’s our common practice at CPC—hearing.