People power: mainline Protestants can learn this from Southern Baptists: never underestimate the power of democratic political pressure

Christian Century, Oct 5, 2004 by Arthur E Farnsley, II

MANY EPISCOPALIANS, Methodists and Presbyterians must cringe when they read the newsletters and Web pages of activists within their denominations. Sometimes the partisans carefully couch their warnings and strategies in cooperative language, but generally their pronouncements leave no doubt that they are spoiling for a fight.

When the Institute on Religion and Democracy's Web site outlines "issues facing the Episcopal Church," it lists "unrelenting pro-homosexual advocacy," the "undermining of the family by church leaders" and "a House of Bishops that is divided and no longer offers moral leadership." On the other side, the Affirmation United Methodist site promises to "relentlessly pursue polices and processes that support full participation of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people in all areas and levels of the United Methodist Church."

Terms like "advocacy," "undermining," "divided" and "relentless" are fighting words. The people who use them are not engaging in a process of discernment; they are mounting arguments. Political maneuvering is inevitable because most denominations--despite their members' cultural and socioeconomic similarity--are too diverse to resolve disputes easily. Sometimes disagreement about religious values becomes so intense that the ties that bind--shared histories, beliefs and practices--become weaker than the issues that divide.

Certain basic political values, by contrast, are shared by an overwhelming majority of Americans. People who argue vehemently over biblical interpretations share a common belief in equality of opportunity. Those who disagree deeply over whether God is infinitely forgiving or ultimately judgmental still agree about freedom of speech. Many Americans who would be willing to die for their particular religious convictions would also be willing to die for the right of others to believe something else.

Sometimes theological, ethical or biblical agreement is impossible. Consensus is out of the question. Compromise might be politically desirable, but the nature of the debate--and its eternal consequences--means that expediency cannot be the main consideration. Neither individual leaders nor institutions have enough power or authority to force agreement and keep the peace. In such situations, Americans rely instinctively on democratic political mechanisms to mediate claims. They divide even highly complex issues into two sides and form two parties, each with its own leadership, newsletters and Web sites. They know intuitively that democratic authority will be accepted by both sides.

Democracy does not promise that the sparring factions can be brought together; it does, however, hold out the possibility of compromise. Failing that, it promises that both sides can have their say and that the winner can claim legitimacy. The majority rules.

It is precisely in this light that the current sexuality controversies in the Episcopal, Methodist and Presbyterian churches should be viewed. Some people may whisper of takeovers, revolutions and coups, but those descriptions seldom fit the facts. No group is instituting its views by force. The most compelling reason why none could do so is that denominations are not closed societies. Any member can refuse to cooperate or, ultimately, can walk away. In each of these denominations, the contestants have formed parties that can be roughly identified as "conservative" and "liberal," each staking its claim to the moral high ground.

Not everyone has taken sides. Most members are torn, not certain they agree fully with either party but very certain they do not want to see their denomination sundered. This quiet majority would prefer a peaceful resolution even if it involved an uneasy compromise.

The recent history of the Southern Baptist Convention shows how the democratic process worked in one conflicted denomination. For Southern Baptists, the issue was what was being taught in seminaries. As is true of every denomination, Baptist seminaries were more liberal than the mainstream laity. Biblical "higher criticism" was part of the curriculum. Biblical literalists sought to change this by convincing folks in the large middle--most of whom hold what might best be called a "commonsense" view of scripture--to vote for SBC officials and seminary trustees who would insist on a more literal emphasis.

This internal controversy about the interpretation of scripture was "religious" in the purest sense. The constituents were relatively likeminded. The issue might have been settled by appeal to theological principles and obvious points of reference in scripture itself. But theological principles and scriptural referents are neither fixed nor stable, even within subcultures that look homogeneous from the outside. Unable to settle their differences on religious grounds, activists took sides, formed political parties, printed propaganda and decided by ballot. The conservatives won easily and the seminaries became more fundamentalist in their approach to scripture.