Searching for faith in the shadows of sectarianism

DENOMINATIONALISM in the Christian church, said the Protestant theologian, Richard Niebuhr, "is an acknowledged hypocrisy . . . the accommodation of Christianity to the caste system of human society."

Writing in 1929, Niebuhr argued that the basis of church division has been along lines of class, colour and wealth, rather than of faith. Denominationalism, he claimed, has fostered "the hatreds of jingoistic nationalism".

Many theologians today share Niebuhr's view. But not all. Winp Hudson asserts denominationalism as the opposite of sectarianism, keeping alive the spirit of reform in the church.

Andrew Greeley claims that denominations have given Americans their structure, meaning and identity, avowing that the "secret of the survival of the organised churches in the United States... is their ability to play an ethnic, or at least quasi ethnic role." But in American too we know denominational religion has been shaped as much by political interests as by faith and doctrine.

So are denominations a "moral failure" or the "secret of survival" of the church? One suspects that they are both. And the Bible has been recruited to bolster both claims. While not all churches view themselves as denominations - Orthodox and Roman Catholics in particular do not - they act as such on the whole and are so perceived.

Confessional differences also manifest the church's "catholicity" and tendency to take root in different contexts. But there is no denying the shadow side to confessionalism - defining identity over against outsiders.

Ireland we are familiar with the sectarian shadow. We denounce it in: "the extremists", remaining innocent of our own collusion. We must admit that inter church activity is more the exception than the rule. We largely ignorant of one another's doctrines, ill informed of other patterns of worship and authority. Officially condemnations of one another's churches still have a place in our creeds and doctrines.

It was with no lack of seriousness that a committed church member assured me of her desire to work against sectarianism, while rejecting the need to be ecumenical with other churches. We were clearly working from different understandings of ecumenism. Is the transformation of sectarianism no more than soothing community relations? Is there no point in seeking to understand one another's confessional background and belonging?

Ecumenism is not the dissolving of differences and cherished traditions. In fact, where there is no room for freedom or diversity, ecumenism is evacuated of meaning. The claim that ecumenism is unbiblical is patently false. There is a clear theology of the stranger in the Hebrew Scriptures. The gospel's irreducible core is love and reconciliation expressed in table sharing with outsiders and forgiveness of enemies.

IN its derivation from the Greek words oikos (house), and oikoumene (the whole known world), the New Testament expressed its understanding of relationships within the "world house" and the "household of faith" - the reconciling of diversities within and between the churches in Jerusalem, Corinth or Rome. Today ecumenism draws on this same vision. It positions itself in the world of pre and post Reformation divisions, inviting churches to risk facing one another and allowing the other to be other.

After decades of co operation between many Protestant denominations, after the hopes inspired by Vatican II, and despite some fresh departures by church leaders in working together for reconciliation, ecumenism remains a minority interest and few are impressed by the churches' achievements. Even where mutual interest and openness exist among church people, the urgency of Jesus's prayer for oneness among his followers is not reflected in convincing structures and processes of ecumenical dialogue and exchange.

The scandal of hostility between the churches has told against our best attempts to be hospitable to difference and to contribute to a culture of reconciliation in society at large. Church leaders and official bodies - most recently Canon Arlow and the Presbyterian Church and Government Committee - have not only denounced sectarianism, but have challenged their own members to confront it and to recognise the urgency which Jesus gave to the seeking of reconciliation with those who have something against us, before engaging in worship.

Passive ecumenism is a contradiction in terms. True ecumenism implies that church people at all levels make reconciliation a priority, keeping the other constantly in view, trusting that as churches we can allow our life and faith to be influenced by the other in creative rather than destructive ways.

Pope John Paul II, in his encyclical on commitment to ecumenism, called for a "dialogue of conversion" between the churches. The assumption here is that church boundaries are not fixed and closed to one another. Dialogue and repentance have a bearing on the way churches witness and relate to one another - as to people of other faiths and ideologies. It is not by chance that one speaks of the ecumenical movement.

The critical point is whether denominations can help their members to express their faith in risk as well - as in fidelity, offering a belonging that is not exclusive, not closed to change. If they cannot, denominations become structures of sin rather than structures of grace.

The bitter events of the summer demonstrate that vague sentiments of "live and let live" do not stand the test. Drumcree held the mirror up to nature, revealing more substance in our enmity than in our love. Enmity does not easily turn to love. We will need to experience the frustration and deadlock through the fear or betrayal felt by the other.

We have witnessed not just a failure of nerve but a yawning absence of trust between people and between churches, despite strenuous common efforts by church leaders. Questions hang in the air about what can be salvaged, including questions for churches to ponder - whether they actually want sustained and sustaining relationships and what ecumenical risks they are prepared take.

Perhaps the necessary risk of being vulnerable will prove too dangerous. Can we be vulnerable enough as churches to face the estranged ones in our own midst, perhaps not so unlike the stranger who "digs with the other foot"? In such an encounter denominational Christians may find themselves faced by the strangeness of God.