ONE FAITH, ONE BAPTISM. . . ?

Norman R. de Puy

T he last time I counted, Protestants were up to more than 300 denominations including, for the sake of argument, the Episcopal church.

For me, the question has become, "How seriously do most of us take Paul’s claim, ‘So we being many, are one body in Christ. . .’ (Rom. 12:15)?" It would be difficult to find a biblical text "more honored in the breach than the observance."

Thus the related questions: Why do people choose one church or denomination over others? Do we choose, or are we simply swept along? Is there an erosion of denominational loyalty? Why do people remain in one church or denomination, or, as ever more evident, leave for another?

After a cursory investigation we can conclude that there is both a settled condition in many denominations but also a marked and intriguing traffic to and fro between traditions.

A Growing Preoccupation

Whether due to the freedom in retirement from institutional responsibilities, or to offering supply preaching in a variety of denominational churches, I have developed a preoccupation with the surprisingly little attention paid to Paul and his definition of the church amid today’s rupturing of the one body into countless fragments and the many attempts at justifying this condition.

During the 40 years before my retirement as minister in five American Baptist churches, challenged by the responsibilities in my local church, I experienced relatively little temptation to become agitated about other denominations. From the beginning of my parish ministry, however, I was intrigued by denominational differences, particularly in matters of liturgy.

I had interesting and close friendships, several long-lasting, with fellow ministers of other churches in town: Presbyterian, Methodist, Lutheran, Episcopal, and Quaker. However, Paul’s mandate and biblical injunctions about one body did not seem to play a part except in a vague marginal way.

The Travelers

Meanwhile the travel between traditions has proceeded apace, leaving me now wondering this: If there is moving from one tradition to another, is it simply a matter of dissolution? Or could it also be a sign of coming together as the One Body? Could the increased knowledge of one another’s traditions, and awareness of strengths and weaknesses, bring some new sense of the one body of Christ?

In addressing the implications of such questions, of course we need to be concerned with why people leave the church altogether, given the overall attrition and the acros-the-board shrinkage in all our so-called mainline churches. Yet my experience with the "leavers," or those who abandon the faith, indicate factors different from negotiating variations across denominations. "People who leave the church are not necessarily abandoning God or faith," according to Alan Jamieson, author of A Churchless Faith. "In fact, some people leave the church to save their faith. . . ."

Jamieson found that many of what he calls "postcongregational" Christians had been leaders in the church—deacons, elders, Sunday school teachers, even pastors. He believes congregations should listen to people who opt out of the church, and that those who leave may be in the best position to reach postmodern folk. Unfortunately, the vast majority of the former churchgoers he interviewed claimed no one from their church ever talked to them about why they left. He urges churches to be "leaver sensitive," because "the leavers need the church and the church needs the leavers. . ." (Christian Century, Jan. 11, 2003).

Obviously the defection of people who consider themselves religious—Christian, in many cases—but who do not worship in any church congregation is important to the decline of any tradition losing numbers. But this departure from one denomination to none is in the end a matter somewhat tangential to my concern here, since my focus is on the traffic between liturgical traditions.

Nor am I thinking primarily of those who leave the church because "nobody spoke" to them. Or because some deranged deacon snarled at them or they were passed over as flower committee chair. My great-grandfather quit his church, Episcopal, because he claimed he was falsely chastised for leaving peanut shells on the floor of the pew. Sometimes people leave because the minister is not friendly enough, though this is hard to imagine, given the work-related cramps ministers get from repetitious smiling, enduring a carpel tunnel syndrome of the cheeks. Such reasons can be important, but the focus here is on deeper motivations.

There are other aspects of movement more closely related to my concerns. Yale theologian Miroslav Volf, who comes from ministry in the Pentecostal church in Eastern Europe, a denomination in which his father was also a prominent minister, exemplifies movement undertaken for the sake of growth.

In an interview about worship and liturgy, Volf tells why he left the Pentecostal movement. He was "in flight from bad preaching. My sense was I just wasn’t getting the gospel in the church I was visiting. I think preachers want to mediate between faith and the contemporary situation, but I felt the substance of faith was dribbling away. I didn’t need to go to church to be psychologized or given second-rate social theories. I can chill out on my deck with a cup of coffee and the New York Times for that. So I sought comfort in the Book of Common Prayer seven years ago" (Christian Century, Jan. 11, 2003).

Here is a striking example of movement: from Pentecostal to Canterbury. Although Volf focuses on negative reasons for the travel, the fact that his aim is spiritual growth begins to point toward the possibility that there are positive reasons for changing traditions. Such travel can be rooted in deep motives and earnest needs.

Thus we should insist at this point that liturgical travel between traditions does not disparage the tradition left behind. It is more likely that coming or going, leaving or staying, is a matter of growth in faith. And we must realize that faith changes could lead to the "low" as well as to the "high" liturgies. There is no suggestion that one or the other is superior. We are looking for understanding and a sense of commonality in Christ wherever it surfaces.

What Are Key Areas
of Denominational Difference?

As a backdrop to the quest for commonality, we might want to ponder the various ingredients of liturgical worship through such discussion and study starters as these:

• Why the Book of Common Prayer? Why so different its use from the so-called "service books" of the free churches?

• Why symbolic dress: the Anglican priest with medieval garments; the robes and collars of Reformed and some free church clergy; the Amish and Quaker "dress"; the Mennonite beard and moustache-free upper lip?

• Why four scriptural readings in high churches, one or two in the free churches where Bible and preaching are more central?

• The ordination tradition of the "Apostolic Succession" or the "call" of Protestant ministers?

• The tone of the call to worship: "good morning," or, as I experienced just last Sunday in a Congregational church, "Good morning; thanks for coming"? Or the scriptural greetings of the more formal traditions?

• What forms of what Gordon Lathrop (Holy Things) calls the "Book," "Bath," and "Meal"—the Bible, Baptism, and the Lord’s Supper? The Bath practices: total immersion, pouring, sprinkling, none; the differences in age at baptism and the implications of God’s inexorable grace?

• The Meal: celebrated annually, quarterly, monthly, not at all? Is it a memorial, akin to Memorial Day in the nation, or is it a Spirit-generated mystery? Is it a trip forward to the "Table" by the entire congregation, or is it taken in the pew; self-served? Grape juice or wine?

• What is the place of symbolic actions and rituals in general?

• What is the place and role of the state? Total separation? Some connections of "faith-based" efforts with government support? None? Interpretation of Romans 13?

• What is the position on war? Pacifism, just war theory, full and uncritical patriotic support?

• What is the place of symbols? Prominent place of cross, stained glass, clear windows, architecture? Or the absence of these?

The Travel as
Incentive to Seek Commonality?

Why do some Christians feel more blessed when closer to one end or the other of the liturgical spectrum, enticing them to move from where they are to a different place in the flow of denominations? Perhaps more importantly, is this good or bad? If it includes good aspects, one possibility this article has been exploring, how can we further such movement? If movement among traditions need not necessarily lead to outright shifting of traditions, how might we at at least encourage visits between them?

An example of cross-tradition visitation is found in our local ministerium, which is a fine one: Each month we have open and free discussion among the various traditions represented, among them Episcopal, Baptist, Unitarian. UCC, Methodist, Lutheran, Quaker, and several independents of collegial and gentle nature. Almost fifty percent of us are retired but still reasonably alert.

Not only do we visit across traditions in our ministerium, however; we have also learned more about the travel to and fro, since in our discussions of traditions, we have learned that several clergy members left backgrounds in "higher" (Lutheran and Catholic) liturgical churches of their upbringing, choosing instead the "free" or "lower" liturgical churches. The Quaker is an ex-Episcopalian, as is the Unitarian minister. Another is leaving the free church for the priesthood of the Episcopal church. So the traffic truly is going both ways.

Is the travel a historical matter, a theological matter, or a case of personal psychological preference? In the end I don’t fully know how to answer the question, since any number of reasons shape each decision to travel from one tradition to another. But if the why of the travel can use more investigation, the fact that it is happening is inescapable and invites continued pondering of how, amid such ongoing cross-fertilization, we might take serious the One Faith in the One Body, regardless of which branch of it we currently call home.

How Can We Take Seriously
the One Faith in the One Body?

Now obviously every tradition has its strong points, and perhaps, viewed from an emphasis on the unity of the body, its weak or unacceptable points. My question is not who is correct, or more correct than the other. Rather, it is how we can find that one faith in one body amid our denominational fragmentations.

The very naming of such a quest underscores how seldom it is seriously undertaken. I have not heard of any local church study program which devoted itself seriously to the major points of a tradition other than its own. In light of this, I have little confidence that we will ever see much by the way of physical denominational unions, though there have been some: Presbyterians, Lutherans, and Lutheran/Episcopal at the national level come readily to mind.

Nevertheless, I am convinced of this: If we in different traditions can think about or share in the experience of one another’s worship liturgies at the local level, accompanied by a serious study of each other’s liturgical histories, we can come to a new experience of oneness in Christ.

One key resource for such study can be the many who, as I have been discussing, have themselves traveled from one tradition to another. As persons who have experienced several different heritages, they are in a good position to identify strengths and weaknesses of each as well as of the travel itself. The more travel represented in a given group, as in my ministerium, the richer the experience can be.

Another remarkably fair and lucid resource, manageable and useful for study group purposes, is Richard Losch’s The Many Faces of Faith (Eerdmans, 2001). Losch provides a brief but edgy description of major denominational traditions. He finds Faith, yes. Many Faces, indeed. In our church lives we can hope, then, for a deep sense of the many faces of one Lord.

I realize it’s a long way from Amish and Mennonite Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, to Canterbury, England; from modern Pentecostal churches to the Pentecostal Flame of that first baptized company. Still there may be more love and acceptance between us than we imagine, and a shared knowledge which indeed reflects the apostle’s mandate.

I hasten to add that in any comparative study of the one body we must realize that all worship is and ends in mystery, in a gift of intimate union with God and his creation through the Holy Spirit.

—Norman de Puy, Peterborough, New Hampshire, was for many years an American Baptist minister, denominational leader, and prolific writer. He currently publishes a journal-type newsletter for lay and professional leaders, "The CyberWalrus: An E-Mail Commonplace Book", free subscriptions to which can be requested from ndepuy@adelphia.net.