Course Work

As those of you who have read the book or this blog probably know, The Mainline was shaped by my time in the classroom.  For the first time since the book came out, I was able to teach with it in an American Religious History course.  While of course I'm biased, and hold out hope that nice things will be said on the student evaluations, I thought that it went quite well.  But rather than dwell on student reaction to having to read a book by their professor, I'd much rather talk about the work my students did in the course.

There were 11 students enrolled in the course (which was sponsored by the Honor's program at Butler University).  And I must say, they did some really exceptional work and provided their professor with, if not always new insights, then at least a reminder of why I thought writing the book in the first place was a good idea.  In short, the vibrancy of the field of American Religious History remains quite bright, and I'm as convinced as much as I ever way that there is still much more to study and learn from this field.

My students had three mini-research projects to complete in the areas of colonial religious history (they were assigned one of England's New World colonies and had to investigate the role religion played in its founding), the use of multimedia outlets to convey religious messages (looking at websites, television programs, movies, or listening to the radio), and modern worship (attending a worship service -- either new to them or regular).  Their findings were insightful:  In the colonial project, several of them noted how the Puritans created a "moral establishment of religion" in their colonies.  One student also pointed out, in what I found to be quite telling considering recent discussion of religious liberty, the degree to which political control of a colony's government seemed to dictate the degree of religious freedom colonists enjoyed.  For the multimedia project one thing that I took away (and seems to have changed somewhat since the last time I taught the course) was the degree to which these various media outlets are melded and blended together by both ministries and listeners/viewers.  And when it came to modern worship, what was evident in virtually all of the presentations was the vibrancy and variety of religious expression that is alive and well in America today.

We, as a class, were also fortunate enough to have four guest speakers over the course of the semester.  Two of the leaders of Butler's chapter of Cru (formerly known as Campus Crusade for Christ) came and spoke about the challenges and blessings of their campus ministry.  The directer of the Hillel Center on campus also came in and spoke about the Jewish American experience (both historically and on campus).  The president of the Muslim Student Association also spoke (and was kind enough to do so at the request of her former professor), giving students yet another (and in this case at the peer level) angle on American religious experience writ large -- and at the campus level.   Our fourth guest speaker, via Skype, was an old friend, Prof. Jason VanHorn of Calvin College.  Who talked about using GIS to study the Geography of Religion, including helping congregations in Grand Rapids, Michigan better understand their neighborhoods and what outreach services they might be best suited to bringing to their local communities.  All of these presentations were well received and sparked good discussion both during and after class.

But for me, perhaps the highlight of the semester was the final papers and the presentations (even if we had to rush through some of them).  My students had to research over the course of the semester a topic that interested them about American Religious History.  Four papers dealt with politics and religion (particularly the Founders and disestablishment), four dealt with various facets of the Catholic experience in the United states (three on immigrant Catholicism and one on Catholic schools), and three covered various angles within the topic of Religion and American Culture (two of which built upon their previous course work).

It was a great semester and bodes well, I think, not only for the use of The Mainline in the classroom, but further study of American Religious History.

On the Future of Denominationalism

Easter, a time for Christians to reflect and celebrate Christ's burial and resurrection, this year fell almost exactly on the anniversary of the arrival of my first advance copy of The Mainline, and that prompted me to do some reflecting of my own. 

First, a big thank you to those of you who have read this blog (always feel free to comment), come out to presentations/book signings, and of course, purchased a copy.  As an author, all of those things mean a good deal to me.

But secondly, and more importantly for this post, the one year anniversary of the book being out amongst the reading public has also led to some reviews (which I've talked some about on the blog as they arrive).  Several of those reviewers (most recently Prof. Wade Clark Roof, in the Journal of American History) have raised the issue of what my work says about the future of denominational Christianity in America.  One could read the The Mainline as an affirmation of denominations, and if you do, then that seems to fly in the face of evidence of denominational decline, contraction, and the potential for extinction.  In short, rather than talking about a "new Mainline for the twenty-first century" as I do in the final chapter, these reviewers seem to be arguing that organized religion in the United States, as expressed by Christian denominations, is edging ever closer to European style irreverence.  Another reviewer, while enjoying the book, went so far as to opine that by the time a second edition of it was needed, there might not be any denominations left to appreciate or understand it!

Let me start my response by saying that yes, in the main, I agree with the notion of denominational decline (in some respects, my entire book is about that phenomenon).  But let me also caution those of a more pessimistic persuasion that we really don't know what that means.  To begin with, as scholars such as Mark Chaves has noted, while there has indeed been an across the board decline in American religiosity, it has also been very slow and the numbers themselves have remained remarkably stable and speak of a good deal of continuity in how Americans view matters of faith.  Chaves also, rightly I believe, points out that while the numbers tell us what has happened, they do not out of hand show us what will happen (they are descriptive, not prescriptive).  We do not know the future, we can only safely comment on the past.  A First or Second Great Awakening style revival could change things overnight.  And to those who say such an event couldn't happen now, I would simply remind you that that is exactly what many said at the time that both of those events occurred.

Which means that for the foreseeable future, we will have denominations among us.  The real issue, I believe for scholars (and this is a point I admit I did not make clear enough in The Mainline) was that despite specific and broad denominational decline, denominations remain the best and easiest means for scholars to categorize, count and study religious belief.  So, in a very real sense, they aren't going anywhere anytime soon!  And with that in mind, while I think it behooves scholars of religion to not neglect denominations, I also think we must not rest on what is (and has been) easiest and best when it comes to thinking about religious faith.  We need more work on what individuals, not just aggregate composites (via denominations) actually believe, and how that belief translates their faith into their daily life (here, I think Art Farnsley's Flea Market Jesus, is a great step in the right direction).  We need more study on non-denominationalism (both as a phenomenon and the congregations that it has created, many of which are similar to the old Mainline -- and many of which put the old Mainline to shame).  We might also look for ways to not only explore the sacred/secularization paradiam, but also resurrect the concept of irreligion (the idea that religious belief is just fine for you, but maybe not for me)--which, is more indifferent to faith than it is hostile.

So, rather than being pessimestic, I am optimistic.  Not only for the work that remains to be done, but that denominations are going to play a role in it.

Welcome News from Rome and Dr. Roof

Today, I happened to be home (spring break) and so was able to watch my fourth papal conclave, and fifth pope live on television.  Granted, I have no meaningful recollection of the first two (Popes Paul VI and John Paul I) and have only vague memories of watching the election of Pope John Paul II (on my family's black and white t.v.); but these last two (Popes Benedict XVI and Francis I) I watched from "white smoke" to first official prayer.  Such an event opens the doors for "pontificating" (if you'll excuse the expression) on the part of the news media (once the white smoke happens in Rome, there is time to fill on the air), and thanks to social media by others as well.  As an American Religious Historian, it is with such comments that I will focus on at least in passing.


Two things stood out to me this afternoon.  First, was that along with the expected speculation and discussion of what was happening while we awaited the emergence of Francis I (indeed, discovering that was who we were waiting for), there was also a good deal of "this is what the next pope has/needs to do" coming from the news media.  Some of it was of the bland variety ("he will need to use social media"), but some of it was also very American-centric ("Catholics want the Vatican to allow priests to be married" one commentator asserted, apparently know what ALL Catholics -- American or otherwise-- want on the issue).  And some of it, of course, was also politically liberal ("the next pope will need open the Church up to gays and lesbians").  I found it both fun and odd at the same time that the news media was setting up a laundry list of things the new pope HAD to do, as if the new pontiff had no idea about  these (and other) issues, and might actually prioritize other things.  Furthermore, it never seemed to cross the journalists' minds (and the priests and bishops who I saw that were part of the interviews were apparently to polite to point out) that perhaps the Church and the new pope might disagree with their assumptions altogether.


The second thing that I noticed, which has been on the rise over the past few days, was undertones of anti-Catholicism in discussions about the looming papal vote.  Some of this has come from the news media (some lamenting that because of his devotion to John Paul II, Francis I was likely not going to revive Liberation Theology, nor do past comments he has made on abortion line up with what a pro-choice politics).  But some of it has come from American Protestants.  In that regard, much of it has not been directed at the papacy per se (at least not yet), but rather internally, as (for example) some evangelical Protestants have attacked others on Twitter for daring to say that Christians (regardless of denomination) should pray for the cardinals as they met in the conclave to vote.  Neither of these is new, and the former variety is likely to intensify in the years to come.  As an academic Historian, I will be keeping my eye as much on these things as well as the pronouncements Francis I makes in the days and years to come.

And so, that was the news from Rome today.  But while watching, listening, and waiting, I also was doing some reading (I can take the talking heads and speculation for only so long).  While flipping through the March 2013 issue of the Journal of American History, I eventually found my way to pages 1207 and 1208.  For there was a review of The Mainline by Wade Clark Roof!  To say that I was pleased to have such a prominent scholar review my book is an understatement.  To find that he actually enjoyed it ("excellent denomination-by-denomination analysis," the "politics of decline" decline is noted as "insightful analysis") even better!  While offering some critique as well, to say that Dr. Roof's review made my day is also an understatement.

All in all then, a very full day.  A very blessed day.

The Souls of Real People

Historians have an awesome responsibility.  As a profession, we deal with the past of course.  But it is a real past, the real past, which was constructed, inhabited by real people (just like us).  In telling their story then, historians have the task of both constructing an argument about the past, as well as doing justice to the past and the people we are writing about.

Today, I had a chance to really ponder those sentiments.  Before heading downtown to teach, I stopped off at Crown Hill Cemetery in Indianapolis.  The final resting place of Hoosiers since the mid-1860s, those interned there include the politicians (governors, senators, vice presidents, and a president), the infamous (John Dillinger), powerful businessmen and community leaders, as well as average citizens.  My purpose in driving through the cemetery grounds was to find a few graves of people I have studied and written about over the past few years.  It was both intellectual curiosity as well as hoping to find a few new details for my current project.

What does this have to do with The Mainline?  Well, quite a bit actually, at least insofar as we are thinking of the Mainline in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (see Chapter 2).  I am currently researching the life and times of Preston Davidson, a native Hoosier from a distinguished family in Indianapolis (his maternal grandfather was governor of the state), who fought for the South during the Civil War.  Indeed, his life is full of virtually every Civil War cliche one can think of, and in many ways he remained unreconstructed to the end of his life.  What makes his story compelling in terms of The Mainline, however, was more to do with his religious life.  His paternal grandfather was a Presbyterian minister in Virginia.  The Reverend Andrew Davidson was a church planter along Virginia's Shenandoah Valley, centered in and around Lexington.  The Reverend Davidson was an Old School Presbyterian, a devout Calvinist, and could by all accounts deliver a powerful sermon.  As such, he represents both a doctrinal divide within American Protestantism, the tensions involved in early nineteenth century America over slavery, and desire for evangelicals to find both acceptance and to help shape American culture (the Davidson family was a product and protector of Lexington's chief school of higher education, now known as Washington and Lee University, for virtually all of the nineteenth century).

Two of the Reverend's sons were part of the "Virginia exodus" that helped settle Indiana.  One, the Reverend Charles Baker Davidson, followed in his father's ministerial footsteps -- though exhibiting a denominational fluidity that seems much more modern than perhaps is often admitted.  Baker joined the Methodist Church in Indiana, serving congregations in and around the Evansville area, and by the time of the Civil War, left that branch of Protestantism for the Episcopal Church.  Preston's father, Alexander Davidson, became intrinsically linked to his father-in-law's political career and ambitions.  But when it came to religion, Alexander exhibited more of the evangelical streak of his family:  Helping to found Indianapolis's Second Presbyterian Church, whose first pastor (who married Alexander and Catherine Noble) was Henry Ward Beecher.  Beecher introduced his sister, Harriet, to a former Noble family slave whom the governor had brought to Indiana after the deaths of his own parents.  The former slave's name was Tom, and the Beechers often visited with him in his cabin on the Noble family farm.

To add a further layer, while Preston eventually enrolled in the then Washington College in Lexington (from which he went on to fight for the Confederacy alongside his cousins, other family members, and under the command of Lexington's famed Presbyterian warrior, Stonewall Jackson), his first taste of higher education was in Indianapolis at North Western Christian University -- which is today known as Butler University.  The driving force behind the school was Ovid Butler, who was a staunch free soiler and devout evangelical.  This was the world that produced Preston Davidson, and as numerous scholars have argued, we cannot really grasp why the Civil War was fought, or why it lasted so long, unless we appreciate the role religion played in American life during the first half of the nineteenth century.

But the Noble-Davidson plot was not the only one I visited.  I also tracked down the grave of the man who was the subject of my first book, the Reverend Edward S. Shumaker.  Not unlike Davidson, Shumaker was the product of the evangelical Midwest; though of the second half of the nineteenth century.  And while anti-slavery had been the main reform of Shumaker's father's generation, for Edward, who became a Methodist minister, the chief reform was Prohibition.  He became a champion for the dry crusade and eventually the leader of the Indiana branch of the Anti-Saloon League.  Shumaker became more a political operative than minister, fought battles against wets, damps, and even amongst his fellow drys.  Despite the ups and downs, thankfully for Shumaker, his death came before repeal of his beloved 18th Amendment.

Shumaker's story reminds us yet again of the power of evangelical Protestantism to shape American culture.  To forget that, is to forget not just one of the chief reasons why Prohibition became a reality, but also why Protestants were so invested in such a reform -- combating societal evils was sometimes easier than dealing with doctrinal and theological issues.

To forget these types of stories, to neglect religious aspect of reforms, of life, and their impact on American culture, is to miss a huge part of our history.  It also does something else:  It downplays the potential that religion has to continue to shape that culture today.  Ponder that, and for those whose graves I visited today:

Requiescat in pace

Northern Indiana Book Signing

Yesterday I had the good fortune of doing a book signing at the Barnes and Noble at University Park Mall in Mishawaka.  The staff was top notch and it was wonderful to be able to talk about the book, sell a few, and do so amongst old friends and family.  It was also great, for me as a father, for my kids to get to see the end result of what their daddy does professionally.

The above picture was taken by my daughter, who wanted to capture the moment!

Among those I got to chat with was a retired Lutheran pastor who is now very involved in the ecumenical movement who is very interested in emergent Christianity, the pastor of my hometown's First Presbyterian church, someone who professionally might be classified as a "seeker" (he had grown up in a small, liberal Protestant congregation -- migrated to a Megachurch -- and is now in a medium sized evangelical congregation), and someone whose father was a Presbyterian minister -- who had studied at a Lutheran seminary -- and was now a Muslim.  And while this was more of a signing, rather than a talk, as always, I learned a great deal and thought even more about topics that I tried to discuss in the book.  I hope it is the first, but not the last, of 2013.

South Bend Here Comes the Mainline!

Very excited to be doing a book signing in South Bend on Saturday, January 26!

Here are the details:

http://store-locator.barnesandnoble.com/event/4053408

Christmas at Disney World

This year for Christmas, my wife and I gave our kids the gift of a nearly week long trip to Walt Disney World in Florida.  Considering the turn the weather took the day after Christmas at home in Indiana, and how nice it turned out to be in Florida, it also ended up being a gift to us as well!

Now, for those of you who have read this blog before, you know this isn't a travel blog.  This is supposed to be about my book about Mainline Christianity -- stick with me, and I'll get there, I promise.  For those of you who are stumbling upon this blog because you are looking for a review of the new Fantasy Land, let me just say now it is awesome, and you should start your day with Belle!

Now, how did I come to post about Disney World on this book blog?  I surely didn't intend to do so, but one of the nice things about a vacation that includes waiting in line (unless you can Fast Pass -- which you should) is that you get some time to think.  And for me, this post started when we visited EPCOT and my son, while we were in Norway said "let's go into that church."  For those of you who are rusty on your EPCOT Norwegian lay of the land, the pavilion includes a stave church building (which houses an exhibit on the Vikings).  My son's request got me thinking about where God was at Disney World (which very could, as I thought some more about it, be a whole article in and of itself).  But this is not that article, rather, this is about Disney World at Christmas time, and what American Mainline Christianity (whether of the old or new variety) might learn from the House of Mouse.

Before anyone assumes this is going to be some new angle on the whole "church as business model" let me lay those hopes/fears aside for you.  It is not (remember, this is not that article).  While I think there are some valid arguments/examples one could make (as well as a warnings, including that "one size does not fit all") along those lines, this post is about Disney at Christmastime.  You see, one of the main reasons my wife and I had decided to do this trip (besides that we have a wonderful time here in Florida, along with the aforementioned weather issue) was that we wanted to see what Disney did for Christmas.  Not for any academic reasons (this post aside) but just to see it.  We knew we weren't going to make the journey AT Christmas, but after a quick check, discovered that the parks stayed decorated into the New Year.  And that sealed the deal!

What Disney does to their parks at Christmas is pretty special.  The lights are awesome.  The displays are cute.  The merchandise is everywhere.  One could visit Disney World at Christmas and see nothing but commercialization and consumerism and even secularization run amok.  Indeed, a trip here at Christmastime might fire some members of American Mainline Christianity into bemoaning what the Magic Kingdom has done or at least is a symptom of to culture, including Christian culture, for all those reasons.  Before you know it, we'd see calls for boycotts, petitions asking Disney to support "traditional values," and maybe even op-eds about Disney's image as "family friendly" while making money off of movie divisions that "glorify violence" or some such.  If that seems far fetched, it shouldn't -- all those things have happened in the last 10 to 15 years (usually from some corner of the Religious Right, or from evangelical circles, and all with precious little to show for it).

But before that happens here, let me ask you, dear reader, to step back -- either from launching such a drive or from shaking your head at those who would -- and join me for a second at Disney's Hollywood Studios.  Click on that highlighted hyperlink and behold the Osborne Family Spectacle of Dancing Lights.  You'll be beholding for awhile, as there are some 5 million lights involved.  And let me tell you what I saw, and heard, just the other night, when I beheld them for the first time:  the very spirit of Christmas. 

We were directed by the park staff (those "cast members" in Disney speak) down and around the byways of park's streets to begin in front of a Nativity light display.  We'd seen it earlier in the day of course, and I'd thought it odd that it seemed tucked away near the back of the (then unlit) display area.  But now I understood why.  You start there, away from the bulk of the display, so that those lights stand out more.  They draw you in.  Soon enough, you are pulled away (if only by the strength of the crowd) to other displays.  Some are religious in nature (the wise men, angels, peace on earth) some are not.  But even when you aren't focused visually on the Nativity, you are never far from it, thanks to the music that is playing -- sounds of the season, some secular, some holy, but all Christmas.

And that trip through the lights got me thinking.  I have heard Christmas music virtually everyday since late November.  At Disney World it was playing still.  "Light" seemed to be the buzzword this year at the Advent and Christmas services I either attended or watched.  Here were 5 million lights in just one section of one Disney park.  The people I had attended services with -- friends, family, neighbors -- had all likely heard those messages before.  Here at Disney World, I was hearing (and singing) some of the same hymns, "seeing" the same message, with thousands of people I didn't know, literally from every corner of the globe (and not just at EPCOT -- we saw groups from various Central and South American nations, and encountered visitors from across Europe, as well as from Asia and Australia, amongst other places).  Can any American denomination, inside or outside, the Mainline say their message (while no doubt more deeply seeded with theology and doctrine) was heard by so many?  Did any have such an "evangelizing moment" to reach out to those outside of the Christian faith and tradition (those whom many American evangelicals would have once called "the lost," or "unreached") with the Good News of Christ's birth?

Now, I'm not saying that Disney World was attempting to spread the Christmas message of the Church in an evangelizing way.  If it gets cold and snowy enough in Indiana later this winter, you might even get me to say (as my favorite of Snow White's dwarfs, Grumpy, might do) that even if they were, it wouldn't make up for all the commercialization and secular message that comes with it.  But that doesn't mean that there isn't a lesson to be had in all of this about the Mainline of American Christianity either.  If a secular corporation can do this,  (or this) what more can (and should) the Church be doing?  As one of my favorite sermons from this past Advent season pointed out, Christmas started with Christianity and the Church -- and Christians should not be afraid to say so!  Perhaps scholars need to look a bit more deeply into issues of culture (something that gets a few pages in the Mainline book, but no doubt needs more attention).  Maybe there is more for the church planners (as well as those who study such movements) to learn about/from the whole "corporation model" of Church growth.  With less than a year until the start of the next Advent and Christmas season, there is still time to think about such things before they are upon us again.  And there is also time to reflect that sometimes such epiphanies can come to us at the most unexpected times and places -- not unlike that very first Christmas itself.