In Retreat in Retreatland:  A Lesson in Denominationalism

By
Deborah Dessaso

 

 

                                                   Let the walls come down

                                                                            Let the walls come down

                                                                            Let the walls that divide us

                                                                           And hide us come down

                                                                           If in Christ we agree

                                                                           Let us seek unity

                                                                           Let the walls come down.

 

                                                                           Lyrics by Steve Green, from the song,                                                                            “Let the Walls Come Down”

 

     It was, without a doubt, one of those defining moments.  There I was, a guest at a Christian women’s retreat, the theme of which had something to do with understanding God’s purpose for our lives.  The event was held at one of those Christian-owned-and-operated facilities which allow several organizations to meet simultaneously and share a common dining area.  Sure enough, another women’s retreat was being held at the same time as ours.  Like us, the women were from a major denomination, and like us, they wore t-shirts bearing their church’s name.  So there we were--two denominations sharing the same facility and eating at the same dining hall for at least five meals.  Yet there is where the similarity ended.
    
Anyone observing the two groups at mealtime would have seen no connection whatsoever between us, because at no time during the retreat did we share one minute of fellowship.  Over 300 Christian women, worshipers of the same God, imbued with the same Holy Spirit, and on our way to Heaven--and yet for two-and-a-half days we walked past each other, scarcely speaking, each
busily being refreshed or uplifted or drawn closer to God or whatever it is we were supposed to be doing.
    
During a meal, I said something to the effect that it would have been nice if the two groups could have shared a meal together.  The responses I got stunned me.  One woman insisted that fellowship between denominations will be impossible until after Christ returns.  (I kid you not!)  Another one stated, quite matter-of-factly, that if I wanted to go over and talk to the other group, I certainly was free to do so (which, of course, I knew—but that was hardly the point).  Later, I was virtually accused of being an ungrateful guest for “complaining.”
    
The irony continued throughout the retreat as my group “Amened” and “Hallulujahed” its way through the messages about how the purposes of God are not about us but about His Grand Plan for all humankind.  (I’m sure the other group was hearing similar messages.)  Then at mealtime, we would leave our respective meeting rooms, make our way to the dining hall, get our food from the buffet, then scurry to our separate eating places. 
    
As the retreat continued, there were incidents of women in my group being delivered from satanic influences, being strengthened to overcome the effects of domestic violence, and being encouraged to have faith as they waited for Mr. Right.  I kept waiting for a message on being wary of denominationalism, but it never came.  Perhaps this wasn’t the place--even with two groups of Christian women worshipping in the same place as they ignored each other. 
    
How is that we who are so sensitive to the world’s tendency to marginalize Christian values and beliefs are so de-sensitized to the far more corrosive effects of denominationalism?  Well did the theologian H. Richard Niebuhr describe the problem when he said:

The denominations… are sociological groups whose principle of differentiation is to be sought in their conformity to the order of social classes and castes.  It would not be true to affirm that the denominations are not religious groups with religious purposes; but it is true that they represent the accommodation of religion to the caste system. They are emblems, therefore, of the victory of the world over the church, of the secularization of Christianity, of the church's sanction of that divisiveness which the church's gospel condemns.  (H. Richard Niebuhr, The Social Sources of Denominationalism, as quoted in “Christian Quotation of the Day,” May 28, 2004.)

 

     As Niebuhr suggests, denominationalism merely reflects a desire to mimic the world’s divisiveness, its desire for exclusiveness at any cost, its desperate search for significance.  The real tragedy, of course, is that unlike the world, we Christians claim to worship the One who, despite His stature as the One and Only Way of Salvation, also is the Mediator between man and God and whose death on the cross demolished one of the most divisive cultural walls of His day:  the division between Jews and Gentiles.

     Thankfully, many of the newer congregations are working hard to avoid the polarizing effects of denominationalism, such as adopting nondenominational names. Still, the Body of Christ has a long way to go.  With the ever-increasing numbers of small ministries eager to attract as many people as possible, you can be sure that some form of spiritual exclusivity--pre-denominationalism, if you will—is sure to rear its head.  Just a few weeks ago, I overheard a member of one of these ministries repeat her pastor’s description of his teachings as something that “You can’t get anywhere else.”
    
The Bride of Christ would do well to remember that her claims to exclusivity, uniqueness, and significance lay in her connection to her Head, her Husband, Jesus Christ.  Any attempts to establish her identity otherwise will result in denominationalism—congregational self-worship, group style.  From such, oh Lord, deliver us and replace it with a view of fellowship which recognizes that Christians may differ on a variety of points, but they all have one spiritual appetite; and if we cannot all feel alike, we can all feed alike on the bread of life sent down from heaven.  At the table of fellowship with Jesus we are one bread and one cup…  Get nearer to Jesus, and you will find yourself linked more and more in spirit to all who are like yourself, supported by the same heavenly manner.  If we were nearer to Jesus we would be nearer to one another.  (Charles H. Spurgeon, Morning and Evening, 580).

 

That last sentence haunts me.  Could this be the root of the problem?

“Thou I walk through the valley of death….”[Psa. 23]