“Since they haven’t talked to us they don’t actually know what we do, but they inferred something from something.”
This quote from Sister Simone Campbell, head of Network, a Catholic social justice lobby, sounds so like Redeemer’s experience. We, too, have faced criticism that defies explanation or proof.
The Sister goes on to analyze the Roman Catholic Church’s male-dominated hierarchy. She claims it simply doesn’t know how to deal with the encouragement women religious received under Vatican II.
We suspect the rift has less to do with male hierarchy than the nature of hierarchy itself.
The Lutheran Church, which constitutionally is not a hierarchy at all, is exhibiting the traits of the Roman and Episcopal Church hierarchical systems. The ELCA is no longer male-dominated. Nevertheless individual Lutheran bishops are muscle-flexing. The three 2×2 knows the most about are women.
The church in the 21st century is entering an era where hierarchies have little purpose. Consequently, those who have reached the pinnacle of church leadership find themselves with little to do — hierarchy-wise.
Lutherans as a congregation-based denomination have similar challenges. Top leaders have meetings, travel, visit, write occasional messages to the people, and seek the status of appointments to high level advisory positions — while the churches they serve operate without them.
Try this—write to Chicago (Lutheran national offices) and ask for help. If your experience is like Redeemer’s, you will receive no response or a letter denying responsibility for involvement.
So what do we pay them for?
Lutheran constitutions give the power to manage congregations not to the bishop, not to the parish pastor, but to the congregations.
Unfortunately, current challenges to the national church involve assuring member churches that all the players follow the rules. No one is watching the constitutions. They are becoming meaningless. That puts lay people at risk — if they insist on following the rules. Any volunteers?
Economic challenges have exacerbated the problems of purpose-challenged hierarchies. Self-preservation becomes a priority. This exhibits itself in budget crises and in leaders’ relationship with member churches. They can view the respect given to their role as power. Power craves control — bigger staffs, more programs. But bigger staffs and more programs are proving to be unneeded. Decreasing staff and cutting programs feels like failure. It’s not. It just feels bad.
Constitutionally Lutheran bishops have very little power. The constitution calls for consent of the congregation at every turn. Bishops are assigned the role of servant leader, which doesn’t mix with illusions of power very well.
It is interesting to watch the conflicts in the Roman Catholic Church. One can’t help but wonder if this latest pronouncement will distract attention from the other challenges facing the American Roman Catholic Church — a drought in the pool of clergy and religious professionals, the clergy sex scandals and its drain on the Church’s assets, the departure of the faithful from regular participation in the parish and the resulting trickle-down effect on one of the traditional strengths of the Roman Catholic faith community — its school system (its future).
Lutherans have plenty of problems as well. We don’t seem to have leadership that is ready for the 21st century.
How should our non-hierarchical leaders keep busy?
They should be serving the congregations most in need. That’s the way Lutheran governance is designed. And it’s biblical.
As the Sister concludes, “I don’t think the bishops have any idea what they are in for.”
They should — but probably won’t — start by listening.