Sickness unto Death?
The word
crisis appears only once in the New Revised Standard Version of the
Bible (1 Corinthians 7:26). That is one more time than I had guessed. Paul
justifies advising the unmarried and widowed to remain celibate and unmarried
in view of the impending crisis that will occur when Christ makes his
anticipated eschatological appearance.
Etymologically,
the English word crisis comes from the Greek noun krisis, which means decision, and from the Greek verb krinein, to decide. The Concise Oxford English Dictionary defines a crisis
as a "time of intense difficulty or danger" or "the turning
point of a disease when an important change takes place, indicating either
recovery or death."
Organized
religion in general and the Christian Church in particular face an existential
crisis that threatens their continued existence. Symptoms of the present crisis
include continuing numerical decline, growing numbers of people who find any
religious faith or spirituality incompatible with a scientific worldview, and an
increasingly widespread, unthinking individual dismissal of religion as mere
superstition.
The
Church's current existential crisis is clearly not identical with what Paul
perceived to be the impending crisis. However, there are at least three
important commonalities. First, new wine still requires new wineskins.
Verbalizing religious experience and meaning requires constant repackaging,
preserving a healthy tension with secularism, yet affirming God's continuing
love and action in the midst of a broken, hurting world. Second, new wine distributed
in new wineskins must offer a credible hope for creation's renewal and
completion. Third, offering new wine today as in Paul's day calls for personal
decisions to accept or reject it.
This existential
crisis plays out on three levels, each progressively smaller and more personal than
the previous but each an essential element of the whole. Most broadly, the
crisis is evident in the global competition of institutions and ideas. On this level,
the Roman Catholic Church under Pope Francis' leadership strives to keep the
old wineskins, trying to soften their rigidity and enhance their appeal by
using gentler, less judgmental language. At the other extreme, progressive
Christians, sometimes accused of being atheists, struggle to identify new
wineskins to hold new wine palatable to this new age while preserving the
vital, transformative essence of religion and spirituality.
Unsurprisingly,
the Church (including The Episcopal Church (TEC)) has experienced the most
difficulty in playing on this broadest of levels. Our Presiding Bishop, the
Most Rev. Michael Curry, with his emphases on taking the gospel to people
rather than waiting for people to come to church and on making Jesus intelligible
in the twenty-first century represents an effort to play on this level.
However, the work of repackaging God's gift of new wine in new wineskins has
proven problematic. The writings of progressive Christians such as Bishop Spong
and David Ray Griffin (especially in his book, Panentheism and Scientific
Naturalism) have often evoked more angry misunderstanding than
appreciation.
The middle
level consists of the Church through its institutional structures (dioceses,
congregations, and other structures) addressing contemporary crises. TEC has
made tremendous institutional progress in becoming more inclusive. For example,
gender and race are no longer formal barriers to becoming a leader and we
celebrate marriage as the union of two people regardless of their gender or
gender orientation. Moreover, TEC has responded promptly and decisively to some
crises in remarkably positive, caring, and effective ways. Illustratively, I
recall the post 9/11 100 days of mission coordinated by Bishop George Packard to
the firefighters, police, mortuary staffs, construction crews, and other
emergency personnel working at the pile that had been the World Trade Center.
At other
times, the Church has responded ineffectually, if at all. At one extreme, some
congregations create the hopefully unintended impression that TEC is a
denomination of causes championed by disparate groups loosely linked only by
their common commitment to Sunday's Eucharist. At the other extreme, visitors
to some congregations live a version of Christianity more akin to escapism than
to incarnation, gathering to celebrate a disembodied gospel, detached from
current events. Institutional maintenance too frequently becomes the goal,
rather than the institution representing a means for good decisions and cooperative
action focused on bringing life out of death.
The last
and most intimate level on which the Christian drama plays is that of an
individual's life and spiritual journey. Again, TEC's scorecard is decidedly
mixed. We Episcopalians have a well-deserved reputation for pastoral
sensitivity, care, and being nonjudgmental. On the other hand, we touch too few
lives because we concentrate on the needs of members of our congregations, rely
too heavily upon our clergy for crisis response ministry, and sometimes find
living and ministering through the duration of someone's extended crisis
difficult.
James L. Griffith and Melissa Elliott Griffith in Encountering
the Sacred in Psychotherapy (New York: Guilford Press, 2002, p. 268) helpfully
charted existential crisis states that render a person vulnerable or resilient
to illness:
States
of Vulnerability
|
States
of Resilience
|
Despair
|
Hope
|
Helplessness
|
Agency
|
Meaninglessness
|
Purpose
|
Isolation
|
Communion
|
Resentment
|
Gratitude
|
Sorrow
|
Joy
|
The Sickness Unto Death is Soren Kierkegaard's 1849 existential analysis of why death for
Christians is not the end but simply another waypoint on the journey to eternal
life. We may disagree with Kierkegaard that this sickness always shows itself
as despair. As the Griffiths suggest, the sickness may have many forms and
names. However, I find the title of his book an apt description of a crisis' potential
catalytic power changing death unto life. With God's assistance, quality
pastoral care intentionally aims to facilitate that transformation.
David
Brooks, the popular New York Times' columnist, believes that there is
"a pervasive cosmic unease, the anxiety that [people] don't quite
understand the meaning of life, or have not surrendered to some all
encompassing commitment that would bring coherence and peace." ("The Epidemic of Worry," October 25, 2016, accessed at http://nyti.ms/2eAgY7w)
Crises
are opportunities for Christians, our institutional structures, and the global Church
to address the cosmic unease that Brooks recognized. I see encouraging signs of
hope, but am far from sanguine about the journey ahead. Instead of investing
our collective and institutional energy and resources in preserving the status
quo and our individual energy and resources in attempting to overcome the fears
and anxiety that the sickness unto death causes, we might do better to
reimagine the sickness unto death as the sickness that leads to life abundant.
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