SECTARIAN BONDAGE?

Addendum: 12/09/12:  There has been a sequel to the matter addressed below. This sequel can be read on my "Views News and Pews" blog here.  

I have recently posted on the subject of Christian splintering, a subject that has been an interest of mine for many years. Splintering is a phenomenon that is often accompanied by an intense sense of New Testament nostalgia, alienation from mainstream churches and a strong desire to clear the ground of all modern influences and return to a pure uncorrupted NT idyll. Well, lo and behold this particular class of splintering has just cropped up on Network Norwich and Norfolk in an article written by someone called Alan Howes who extolls the virtues of copying NT practices to the letter. 

It may be early days but I’m afraid to say that this is such an oft repeated pattern that I can only see it ending in the usual grief caused by a blend of legalism, gnosticism, authoritarianism and above all partisan sectarianism. Such people make claim to being free, but blind to their own irony, they lay down a clear cut set of rules (“based on scripture” of course!) about how things should be done. Even quite acceptable and innocuous practices are given a basis in a rule driven observance rather than in pragmatism. What these naive people fail to understand is that in order to implement their proprietary view of church they have two options: Either they demonstrate a degree of latitude toward the inevitable mutual disagreements about how church should be done or they engage in authoritarian enforcement; usually they opt for the latter and then call it “following the scripture” or “being guided by the Holy Spirit”. Like many splinters before them they fail make substantial inroads into the mainstream. They therefore become yet another minority "elite" church splinter who have backed themselves into a corner, a corner from which they have little option but to condemn others for not assenting to the same regime of rules.

Howes’s article is full of the usual clichéd concepts and denials of being a denomination: 

For if the Lord in His wisdom has given a prescription in his Word of how to church then why have we departed from it?

In returning to the heart of Scripture we see how God wants His Church to function.

We are not another denomination but rather a resource to help others see how the church should look and operate according to scripture.

 Are we as followers of the Lord willing to lay aside traditions…?

At Freedom Assemblies Norwich we firmly believe that God has given a blueprint for Churching together which is for all time and not just the 1st Century.

We could be seeing here yet another Christian sect in the very process of forming. Although I believe there is nothing wrong in and of itself in wanting to copy some fancied NT blueprint, it is the epistemic arrogance and fervor with which such is pursued that leads to division and argument; one man’s NT blueprint is another man’s corrupt practice and disagreements can be very sharp if contending parties all think they are “operating according to scripture” or according to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Try contradicting Alan Howes and you will see what I mean.

[Note: The Witness Lee follower of whom I mentioned in this post will be greatly interested in this recent development, never being one to miss the opportunities provided by spiritual discontentment. He's probably already emailed Alan Howes and offered to meet up!]

One of my earlier written descriptions of Christian splintering goes back to 1997 when, after a visit to Jerusalem and the church of the Holy Sepulchre, I felt urged to put something to paper. The following as an extract from a longer essay:

The hill of Calvary, now one of the treasure caves Morton speaks of, displays a rather tasteless effigy of a dying God on a cross. Perhaps it is rather appropriate; crucifixion is undoubtedly amongst the most artless things humanity has indulged in. Morton says he wished he had not known this place except in his heart, but I don't think he meant it; judging from the context of his book, that was just his way of expressing his initial gut reaction. I had, in fact, my own visceral reaction. As I stood in the hot compressed queue waiting for my turn to enter the sepulchre itself, my first impression was that this place was phoney and I was tempted to ask what I was doing there. I found Calvary’s occupation of the same building as the tomb rather too convenient. It also seemed rather far fetched that a rich man's tomb should be within a stone's throw of a place of execution, cramped though Jerusalem is. But that was only my first impression. I have since heard that there is a historical case for all these sites being genuine. I can only put my first reaction down to my tendency to be deserted by traditional "religious feelings" in situations where one is supposed to most experience them. Perhaps that is a good thing because it means I keep a clear head. The other "put off" was probably the incredible level of religious embellishment I witnessed at the church of the Holy Sepulchre. That seems to be a general characteristic of humanity, particularly if it’s ready to believe anything; from seekers of space aliens to seekers of God, humans are not content to accept what they have been offered but insist on elaborating the basic facts with myriad add-ons until they make claim to a fantastic accumulation of detail. The kernel of truth is then lost under these elaborations. Like an archaeologist excavating an old city, you then have to dig through layer upon layer of fanciful human innovation, both good and bad, to sift out the truth at the bottom of it. My first reaction to this venerated site was, therefore, one of alienation. The religious mentality has something about it that renders it unselfconscious. Perhaps this is a consequence of devotion so intense that it becomes lost in itself. But whatever the cause, this context blindness means that the extreme devotion entails an inability to stand back and examine itself. This can be both strength and weakness; in this case weakness because in its obsession with devotional minutia it is unable to see the aggregate effect of its activity, and is thus unaware of the incoherent and implausible jumble its religion has become. One man's iconic elaborations are another man's excrement. And so there is a tendency for them to be repeatedly destroyed and remade as people wipe away the elaborations of their forerunners or peers and start all over again with the construction of fantastic new cultural forms, forms often thought to represent a return to genuine and original simplicity. Thus, the ground is successively cleared and replanted and the net effect is that there springs up a thick undergrowth of diverse groups. From ritualistic high churchmen to Christian cult members, from dowdy, stuffy, strict evangelicals to raving gnosto-charismatics, from cranky Christian conspiracy theorists to reclusive monastics, from wealthy sophisticated southern Baptists to "punk" and "biker" churches, from woolly theologians to rostrum thumping preachers, from stylish yuppie churches to yokels in corrugated iron halls; we have here a kaleidoscope of Christian subcultures, each with their own add-on mythologies. Tawdry and tinselly though they all may be, and yet to such I add my name. The miracle of Christianity is not so much in its unity, as clearly there is no unity amongst the foregoing, but rather we see the miracle in the fact that those who would otherwise have no truck with one another have all been funnelled through the same narrow gate of salvation, religious trappings and all; this is the miracle of the Gospel. And now, as I waited in the hot queue of the sepulchre, I was being funneled through another narrow gate with a crowd of people with whom I would not otherwise have much in common. Behind me was a young but rather plain looking nun to whom this visit, perhaps, was a pilgrimage of her order. In front of me a man from my tour, an Italian catholic, who crossed himself as he entered the cramped interior of the tomb. Into the dark cave we all went and out again using the same entrance. I did nothing and felt nothing as I entered and as usual only afterwards on reflection did I see this simple act as the perfect metaphor. I find it remarkable that such a large part of the whole of humanity has passed through such a small volume as the interior of the sepulchre, from peasants to the emperors; if the sepulchre was in Britain it would have long since been roped off to protect it from the wear and tear of visitors.