quarter of the twentieth century mainline Protestant churches have witnessed the exodus of those whose religious needs have not been met. The failure of mainline Protestant churches to nurture the spiritual lives of their members reflects a religious ethos that is out of touch with the spiritual needs of many human beings. People who formerly would have participated in mainline congregational life have been looking for other alternatives. New Age spirituality, Jungian psychology, charismatic renewal, eco-feminism, new religious movements, Eastern religions, and Wicca have provided arenas for spiritual exploration and in some cases nurture.
Beginning in the 1960s, there was a breakdown of the appeal of mainline Protestant churches and a turn to other spiritual alternatives that indicated substantial cultural shifts. Since the early days of the Republic in the late eighteenth century, Protestant churches had been at the center of a synthesis between faith and culture.1 Public life was characterized by a commitment to rationality. The age of science and the age of reason fostered by the Enlightenment had given rise in the United States to a worldview that trusted science and reason. In contrast to fundamentalist religious groups who proclaimed the literal truth of biblical creation stories, mainline Protestants argued in favor of the theory of evolution. The popular movie “Inherit the Wind,” which brought together veteran actors Friedrich March and Spencer Tracy, told the story of the Scopes trial in 1925. The song “Give Me That Old-Time Religion” reverberated through the trial of John Scopes, a Tennessee school teacher who had taught his students the theory of evolution. Progressive mainline Protestants identified with the struggles of John Scopes in support of the synthesis they had created between a worldview supported by science and the tenets of faith. The power elites and the great middle class of mainline churches joined on Sunday mornings to worship a God who created the world not in seven days, but through the rational process of evolution.
The 1950s, as it turned out, were the last halcyon days of this synthesis. The worldview that had prevailed since the Enlightenment was disintegrating. Modern physics had discovered two decades earlier that the search for timeless, objective truths was not possible. The very act of observation altered the course of subatomic particles. In the human sciences, theories that gave birth to the sociology of knowledge—for example, Karl Mannheim's Ideology and Utopia in 1929—revealed the extent to which human knowledge is socially conditioned. How could one hope to find the truth in a world where knowledge itself was contingent on the vantage point of the observer? Consequently, in the 1960s and 1970s the theological assertions of white, male, European and American theologians were critiqued and found inadequate by women, African Americans, and Latin Americans. If the God of white, Euro-American academic theologians was too distant to be involved in daily life—too high (Karl Barth) or too deep (Paul Tillich)—the God of the disenfranchised of the Third World was present and available in the joys and sorrows of daily life. This theological challenge provided by women and men from other churches and cultures shook the foundations that supported mainline beliefs in the reasonableness of God. If it had been reasonable to assume that God was too preoccupied to get involved in the nitty-gritty of personal relationships with believers, the collapse of the worldview that supported this belief reopened the possibility for developing a personal relationship with God. If groups as diverse as Roman Catholics, evangelicals, and African-Americans could affirm the experiential aspects of a relationship with the holy, many mainline Protestants were now willing to revisit this issue.
At the present time there is neither a theological consensus nor a worldview that binds people of various races, cultures, creeds, classes, and nations together. The absence of consensus produces chaos as well as excitement. Chaos often reigns as old truths are discarded and former authorities are questioned. Yet there is also excitement, for new possibilities can emerge when plurality and ambiguity are the order of the day. In the midst of this turmoil a seemingly intense spiritual yearning has resulted in an unquenchable thirst for reliable tools in the area of spirituality.
Titles at local bookstores across the country have proliferated exponentially. The emergence of this plethora of spiritual materials is both encouraging and frightening. Ten years ago, who would have guessed that Gregorian chant would become a “best seller” in the United States? Would anyone have dreamed that classics from the Middle Ages—for example, the Cloud of Unknowing or the works and music of Hildegard of Bingen—would be not only marketable but also profitable? How will these classics be understood by persons who know little of their context? Will uncritical readings of these works bring the meaning for which people are searching?
The consumer society that produces these literary works is also busy merchandising spiritual techniques for a fee. The symbols and signs of things spiritual—for example, the cross—are unabashedly exploited by savvy advertising entrepreneurs. Only three years ago, Vogue magazine reported that “spiritual equanimity…is only a credit card receipt away.”2
In the midst of this so-called postmodern time, people need guideposts and tools with which to work their way through the spiritual chaos to a more stable place. Such a place may not be terra firma; rather, it may be more like a lifeboat where shelter from the winds allows the testing and evaluating of the available spiritual alternatives.
There are numerous signs of hope today. Committed leaders remain in mainline Protestant churches even as some of their contemporaries leave. These leaders, both clergy and laity, are searching for spiritually enriching paths that will augment the nurture provided by their own congregations and denominations. During the last two decades, a number of these Protestant leaders have sought renewal and guidance by turning to Roman Catholic retreat houses for spiritual guidance. There they learned their spiritual practices and disciplines that focused on developing an experiential relationship with God. In many instances the religious leadership at these retreat houses provided spiritual direction. Protestants who were recipients of this ministry found that spiritual growth added a depth and richness to life that had been neglected by their churches.
Mainline Protestants have also discovered that they have a spirituality even though they have not recognized it as such. Traditionally, Protestant spirituality has focused on the social needs of the society, deliberately separating prayer from social action. Prayer is often described as a pious, self-absorbing activity and is contrasted with the outward ministry of social action. However, in many Roman Catholic retreat houses Protestants have encountered religious leaders who are committed to both prayer and justice. This stance has provided an infusion of spiritual growth and development that many mainline Protestant leaders have taken back to their congregations.
As these leaders have brought their renewed sense of God's presence to the experience of worship, wonderful things have begun to happen. Today, in a significant number of mainline churches a sense of God's presence in worship has been rediscovered. These churches are growing. According to Hadaway and Roozen in Rerouting the Protestant Mainstream,3 this growth is not dependent on congregational size, denominational heritage, or liturgical style. It is happening in large and small congregations, in services with formal liturgies and those with freer forms of worship, and in a variety of mainline denominations. Growth seems to depend on having leaders and worshipers who are persons of faith who believe that God is present when the community gathers to offer worship and praise. When leaders and worshipers believe that God's presence surrounds and infuses them, there is a compelling sense of the holy that touches the depths of their spiritual yearning. For those who have discovered that God is present in the midst of life, the search for a more meaningful and authentic spirituality has not been in vain.
Mainline Protestants are poised to make a contribution to the spiritual lives of individuals and communities of faith who take seriously the pluralistic context of the late twentieth century. Mainline Protestants may not know precisely where they are going, but their contribution comes in part from their knowledge of where they have been. Commitments to critical reflection, to hearing the voices of the dispossessed, to inclusiveness, and to racial equality position them well for evaluating the marketplace of contemporary expressions of faith. Mainline Protestants also tend to recognize the limitations of their knowledge. There is both a critical astuteness and a sense of humility that allows them to
