"Religion," is one of the forbidden words

[Denise]

"On This Rock I Will Build My Celebration Center"

November 2005
By F. Douglas Kneibert

F. Douglas Kneibert is a retired newspaper editor and a 1999 convert from Protestantism. He lives in Sedalia, Missouri.

The highway signboard informs passing motorists that "It's Not Religion... It's a Relationship." The "It," presumably, is Christianity, although one can never be sure when attempting to decode the evangelical Protestant language-revisers.

To the detriment of precision of expression, English has undergone a steady deterioration from the specific to the vague. In the romantic context, "relationship" long ago replaced the old "going together" or "being in love." Likewise, one's "relationship with Christ" has edged out "faith" as the preferred terminology among certain evangelical groups.

Insofar as it refers to the need for a personal faith in Jesus Christ, "relationship" has value. Trouble is, relationships tend to come and go, run hot and cold. Our connection with the Lord is supposed to be made of sterner stuff -- such as "all" our heart, mind, soul, and strength.

In some Christian communities, the very language of faith has been transformed to better fit with modern tastes. Despite its many good points, the Protestant charismatic renewal, which is not noted for its historical memory, has tended to look at what came before it as hopelessly out of date and not pertinent to contemporary wants and needs.

"Religion," as the signboard indicated, is one of the forbidden words. It's too closely associated with your parents' stuffy old church and structured ways of worship -- like singing out of hymnals (or singing real hymns for that matter) and following a prescribed order of service.

The flight from "religion" by the marketeers of evangelicalism would have astonished St. James, who had a few things to say in his epistle about "religion that is pure and undefiled before God" (1:27).

The word "sin" is also scarce in many places today. I spent 18 years in an independent evangelical church, and can't recall hearing a single sermon on sin. Based on my visits to similar churches, that may not be unusual. The unspoken belief seems to be that if you're "born again" and Spirit-filled, sin is no longer a problem in your life -- despite St. John's warning that "If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us" (1:8). At the other end of the theological spectrum, the liberal Protestant denominations tend to define sin strictly in terms of perceived social injustices.

The upshot is not a shortage of sin, but a reluctance to face it. King David's anguished cry to Nathan that "I have sinned against the Lord" (2 Sam. 12:13) in today's parlance would be "I have made a mistake." The great thing about mistakes is that you don't have to repent of them.

"Church" is another word that has been excised from much current usage. In some Christian circles it has been replaced with other, less religious-sounding terms. Among the most popular is the all-purpose "center," which can be a worship center, family center, family life center, praise center, outreach center, or a Christian center. In my town, the Methodists recently opened an outlying branch of their downtown church, naming it a "Celebration Center."

In most cities today there is a variety of "fellowships," "temples," "assemblies," "worship houses," "chapels," "ministries," "centers," "gathering places," and "tabernacles" to be found. The list of verbal contortions is growing in the never-ending search to find some word -- any word -- to replace "church."

The latest trend along these lines is somewhat more creative. A nearby metro area boasts a Jacob's Well, a Beggar's Table, and a Solomon's Porch -- Christian bodies all. (An unsuspecting Jew could be excused for thinking he was walking into a synagogue.)

From the Catholic perspective, the Protestant abandonment of "church" may actually be seen as a welcome development.

Anything approaching a systematic theology of the Church is totally missing in much of Protestantism, where the emphasis, especially among evangelicals, has always been on the individual, and his wants and needs, and his errand-boy God. Traditional Catholics, by contrast, take seriously St. Paul's admonition to Timothy that their Church is the "pillar and bulwark of the truth" (1 Tim. 3:15).

These two ways of looking at the meaning of "Church" represent one of the great divides in Christendom. The ease with which some Protestant groups have dropped the word at least has the virtue of honesty, however unintended. Let's reserve "Church" for those who received it from the Lord -- the first Catholics, if you will.

As severe as that may sound, it is good Catholic theology. The declaration Dominus Iesus, issued in 2000 by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith to the shock and outrage of many Protestants, has much to say on this topic. A key passage states that "ecclesial communities which have not preserved the valid Episcopate and the genuine and integral substance of the Eucharistic mystery, are not Churches in the proper sense..." (#17).

Seen in that light, let Protestants call their places of worship whatever suits their fancy. Meanwhile, Catholics should pray that the Holy Spirit will reveal to our separated brethren the one Church that holds clear title to that hallowed word.