c. 2008 Religion News Service
(UNDATED) As banks call in home-equity loans, I realize how close I came to financial disaster nine months ago.
I was opening bank accounts at our new home in New York City. Our Chase Bank agent pushed me hard to open a home-equity loan. Easy lending for the bank, and, as many homeowners have found to their regret, a slippery slope to over-indebtedness.
I declined. The agent stopped calling. Why, then, do I still bank at Chase? For my self-defined purposes: convenient locations and good online system. I just ignore their barrage of credit card offers.
A similar scenario unfolded outside a theater. A man with a cat perched atop his head was charging people $1 to take photos. He tried to charm two women as “the prettiest things I have seen all day.” They smiled, then suddenly laughed at him and walked away, leaving him the fool with a cat for a hat.
Cynicism? Self-preservation? Suspension of trust? Yes, all at once. When so many seem to be lying, who believes anything?
Political candidates struggle to convey sincerity and trustworthiness. But after decades of cleverly packaged remorse, photo-ops and broken promises, candidates discover that voters aren’t buying it. This could be a presidential election where blogs carry more weight than debates, ads and platforms. How do you “spin” a public that already has been spun into disbelief?
Politicians will find a way. Look how quickly the incoming governor of New York learned from his predecessor’s resignation over visiting prostitutes. Within a day of being sworn in, the new governor went proactive and admitted his own marital infidelities. “No blackmail,” he vowed. Perhaps confession of duplicity is the new sincerity?
In a similar vein, Microsoft tries out the gritty-underdog role; Saturn tries “moment of truth” ads effectively admitting yesterday’s poor craftsmanship but promising real value today; and ruthless Wal-Mart tries positioning itself as a model citizen.
American religion faces its own moment of truth. It is a dilemma to be in the belief business when people have stopped believing. Why should people accept religion’s claims with any less skepticism than they apply to political parties?
It is challenging to proclaim a gospel of self-denial and self-sacrifice to a public that has learned the hard way that survival means looking out for oneself.
When other authority figures are revealed as deceitful, church leaders can’t expect to be exempted from scrutiny, no matter how benign their motives.
What can faith communities do? First, embrace transparency as a fundamental operating principle. I mean radical transparency. Reveal budget numbers, disclose conflicts, admit flawed initiatives, confess doubts and not-knowing.
Second, embrace ground-level collaboration. The days of strong central authorities in religion seem to be over. Church leadership nowadays starts in listening, not in telling, and requires the inefficient and frustrating business of building consensus.
Third, embrace humility and discovery. People won’t be told what to believe. Why should they? The church’s claims are manifestly self-serving. Arguments over Scripture are turf wars, not lamps for weary feet. Denominations are franchise-defenders, not truth-seekers. Faith will be found, not imposed, and it will be found in the discoveries of daily life, not in grand programs cleverly marketed.
I think our nation needs Christianity’s witness. But first we must steadfastly and boldly differentiate ourselves from a corrupt marketplace, where people quite wisely have stopped believing what they are told.
(Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the author of “Just Wondering, Jesus,” and the founder of the Church Wellness Project, http://www.churchwellness.com. His Web site is http://www.morningwalkmedia.com.)
KRE/CM END EHRICH
650 words
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