(The following is a copy of Executive Presbyter Dana Knapp's "The State of the Presbytery" report, delivered at the stated meeting of the Presbytery on November 18th, 2008.)

One word has come to dominate the presidential election campaigns this year: change. All the candidates offered change, although they meant different things when they said it. I thought I’d use this opportunity to reflect with you on the subject of ecclesiastical change, change within the organization of the church. 

Several years ago this presbytery adopted Isaiah 43:18-19 as its scriptural watchword. “Do not remember the former things or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth; do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” 

This is an apt text for Scioto Valley Presbytery. But I confess to having some difficulty with the first part of it, because, being a lover of history, I am naturally inclined toward remembering the past and considering things of old. And I know I am not alone in this. Not only can we learn important things from the past, but the past has much to offer the future. 

What we are faced with in the institutional church is a tension between holding on to the past and embracing the newness of the future. We are conflicted over our evident desire for change and our strong resistance to change, from within congregations and among members, and also in the governing body structure of the denomination. On one hand, we yearn to try new things, to experiment, to change direction, while on the other we want the comfort of the familiar and feel a nostalgic longing for the good old ways. Not necessarily the good old days, but the good old ways. 

In many of our congregations I have met people who have a genuine desire for congregational growth, but all too often this wish is accompanied with the expectation that those anticipated new people who ostensibly would come to worship would join on our terms, would look like us, and have families like us. And they would like the same music and liturgy that are so meaningful and reassuring to us. And they would happily accept whatever theological positions we hold. The problem with this is that it doesn’t realistically look like change at all. This is essentially wishful thinking. 

Not all change is good, of course. Some changes make things worse. Some seems initially appealing but is ultimately destructive. Concomitantly, not all that we seek to preserve is good either. Within out religious tradition, we find tenets and practices that are neither edifying nor wise. And in some periods of our Reformed history we have moved away from the core of the gospel rather than living it out. 

Now, I’m as guilty as anyone in wanting only the change that I’m comfortable with. In the context of worship, my soul longs for the stately and transcendent classic hymns of the church. Don’t change the music! My soul isn’t fed by music it perceives as jingles about Jesus. But I have to confess that I’ve seen people who are deeply moved by worship songs that I might want to dismiss as trivial or that I believe express bad theology. And I’ve seen plenty of people squirm and yawn in the presence of what to my ear is elegant and transcendently beautiful hymnody. My music doesn’t edify everyone. 

Clearly there’s room for all kinds of liturgies and many forms of music in Presbyterian worship. Beloved communities can and do gather in our mobile society around high or lowe church rituals, classical or popular music, and a full spectrum of theological points of view. And thanks to the recording industry, in the privacy of our own homes and vehicles, each of us can be bathed with the particular church music that reaches most deeply into our individual souls. 

So, maybe the answer is that as an institution we don’t need change. People have the technology and mobility to keep doing their own things in congregations or in the privacy of their own homes. In today’s world of consumer religion, most of us can have whatever we want in whatever format we choose somewhere within reasonable driving distance. 

But there is a major challenge to this. As a denomination and as a presbytery we continue to experience a steady membership decline. We have a few flourishing congregations among us, a few bright spots representing both evangelical and progressive theologies. But a larger number of our churches are barely holding their own in member numbers, and even more are clearly declining, despite the efforts of good pastors and faithful church leaders. In that sense, we are undergoing change whether we like it or not. 

It is one thing to face change and make decisions about the future when things are going well and membership is growing. It’s easy to take change in stride when the pews are overflowing. The real test of our ecclesiastical character is how we respond to the circumstances of change when things are not going so well. Like – for most of us – now. That’s where our denominational character is proven. 

One of the things we are good at in the Presbyterian Church (USA) is continual discernment about what God is calling us to be and do. Reformed always being reformed is our motto. Theoretically at least, in the theology we proclaim we are comfortable with the provisional nature of the Church. Openness to change is part of our ecclesiastical DNA. But we don’t necessarily live out what we preach. 

Change? OK. On whose terms? What specific change do you have in mind? Change structure? OK. We know how to do that. We’ve restructured lots of times, sometimes for the better, but not always. Change how we do church business? OK. We do that every time General Assembly meets and presbyteries vote to approve amendments to the Book of Order. Change mission funding process? Well, maybe, but now we’re on the verge of meddling. When money is involved, change starts to pinch and this makes people cranky. I confess to getting edgy and reactive when changes in mission funding are proposed. 

The most difficult discernment we face has to do with changes in traditional creedal verities. These changes happen with some frequency at the grass roots level of the church. Members (and clergy as well) go through transitions in the content of their Christian beliefs, particularly along generational and educational lines. It’s not at all unusual for peoples’ religious beliefs to shift or evolve as they grow older. This is one of the factors in our membership decline, as many people drop out of church or switch denominations because they have changed their minds about various doctrinal claims. We’ve actually benefited from this phenomenon as people from other religious traditions join Presbyterian congregations in search of more reasoned approaches to doctrine. 

In general, however, across the spectrum of Christianity, many members stay with their worshipping communities, while privately disagreeing with official positions of their churches. For example, large numbers of Roman Catholics in the United States disagree with their church’s teaching about birth control, but they continue to go to mass anyway. There are, of course, many theological positions that individual Christians take issue with over against their church traditions. And a number of people (particularly clergy) actively pass for doctrinal changes in their denominations. But it takes far longer for these kinds of changes to become institutionalized at the denominational level. There is a built-in institutional resistance to certain kinds of change, particularly confessional ones. It simply takes much longer to integrate theological change into the culture of a religious institution than it does to make changes in structure or process. 

Now to be clear, I am not in this forum advocating for any specific changes in the practice, doctrine, or structure in the Presbyterian Church (USA). Rather, I encourage the leaders of this presbytery (elders and ministers alike) to maintain a radical openness to the guidance of the Holy Spirit and the will of God as we continue to discern the way ahead. We must navigate three kinds of change. The first is that which comes at us from outside over which we have little or no control. Demographic and social change in the larger society is examples. The second is that which arises from within our community, from members and pastors at the grass roots level. Changes in doctrinal beliefs and emerging generational attitudes are examples. The third is that which we intentionally engage, develop, and lead through doing mission studies and long-range planning, through presbytery deliberations, and through corporate discernment and consensus building. This kind of change is where we need to focus our major energy. 

One dynamic that often accompanies change is fear. In the political arena, the politics of fear was much in evidence this year. Fear abides also in the world of the church, and just as it is destructive in the political world, fear damages our life together in the realm of Christian faith. 

Liberation theology proclaims God’s preference for the poor. With regard to change in the church, I believe that God shows preference for the rich. Not the rich in money but the rich in spirit. From those to whom much has been given, much is required. Surely God loves those who delve deeply into the Scriptures and the doctrines of their traditions, and who then ask hard questions. Surely God delights in those who trust God enough to challenge ancient verities and seek new insights into the nature and will God. Surely God prefers those who engage the faith with reason and passion over those who passively accept without examination whatever has been handed down by their ancestors. 

That’s the Reformed Tradition at work. The span of documents in our Book of  Confessions demonstrates the way we value our past and treasure what those who have gone before have pioneered, while also continuing to produce new statements of what God calls us to believe and do today in a new era. We honor our tradition by acknowledging that change will always be with us and proclaiming that Christ is with us through every change. Friends, it is not our task to resist change that is uncomfortable, nor is it our task to embrace change will-nilly for the sake of novelty. Our task is discern how to walk in faith through a constantly changing landscape, neither fearing the new or making idols of the old, but trusting in the providence and grace of God along the path. God grant us the courage and patience required for the way ahead.