DR. JACK R. VAN ENS, AUTHOR
CREATIVE GROWTH INC.
9745 W. 77
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TEL. 303-420-7416
E-mail: vanensfam@juno.com
Web site: www.thelivinghistory.com
OPRAH'S RELIGION SOARS AS CHRISTIAN TRADITIONS SINK
Our nation worshipped in divergent ways after the terror struck Pearl Harbor and on 9/11. In 1941 our country bowed at the altar of a Christian tradition theologically grounded. After 9/11 a talk show host led religious observances.
On a sunny December 7
th Sunday morning in 1941, President Franklin D. Roosevelt heard bells pealing from St. John's Church on Lafayette Square. The serene atmosphere was interrupted by a telephone call at 1:47 PM. Frank Knox, secretary of the Navy, broke the news to FDR. The Japanese attack left Pearl Harbor in fiery ruins.
When the nation mobilized, our leaders didn't forget the importance of a service of prayer. Washington National Cathedral hosted the somber, traditional service. Episcopal clergy in the vestments led it, using ancient rites that have bolstered Christians through centuries of turmoil.
After 9/11, our nation again felt the need for divine support. Rather than relying on the Episcopalian tradition, Oprah Winfrey organized the official memorial service. Instead of holding it in a sanctuary, Yankee Stadium served as the venue. Whereas after Pearl Harbor clergy officiated at the memorial service, now Oprah ran the event as MC. Clergy still participated but on a baseball diamond rather than in a sacred sanctuary.
At the 9/11 observance, Oprah downplayed historic Christian traditions. She found a secular meeting ground where people, religious or not, might find solace and courage. Yankee Stadium isn't holy ground except to pinstripe fans.
Oprah admirably served our nation but on her own terms. On her talk shows, she often uses Christian terminology but rarely attaches it to the Christian traditions embodying such language. She invites listeners to prepare their own religious menu. Add something biblical. Salt and pepper it with mysticism. Don't forget a dash of self-help psychology. Mix it together in your personal mold, rather than letting a set tradition define it, such as Episcopalian or Presbyterian.
The Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life, in its recent "U.S. Religious Landscape Survey" of 35,000 Americans, reports how people flock to Oprah's religious turf. They ditch defined, historic Christian traditions for religious quests composed of blended spirituality.
Dogma is out; effervescent religious experiences are in. Tradition is out; the Church of What's Happening Now is in. A sanctuary is out; an amphitheater staged for entertainment is in. Christ as the answer is out; Christ as a spiritual savant alongside other gurus is in. Possessing the truth is out; sharing opinions is in.
Clifton Kirkpatrick recently retired after serving 12 years as stated clerk in the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). He continues as president of the World Alliance of Reformed Churches. Kirkpatrick represents old-style religion defined by creeds, housed in sanctuaries, and rooted in a 16
th century Calvinist tradition aiming to transform culture.
Here's his analysis of why denominations are sinking and Oprah's brand-less faith is soaring. Statistics show "the Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses and Catholics, particularly now given immigration, all tend to have an average of basically four children each in the family and start having those children when they're 20," Kirkpatrick reports. "We [Presbyterians] have an average of 1.7 (children) and start having children when we're 30. You run those demographics out, and we will be in another generation a third the size we are now, and those other movements will double."
Is the prime reason denominations are slipping tied to slumping demographics? Is virility that produces more babies the cure for what ails historic Christian traditions?
My explanation for the demise of denominations and historic Christian traditions is summed up in one word:
MOBILITY. Immigrant enclaves where Irish Catholics, Swedish Lutherans, and Dutch Reformed congregated have collapsed. They once fostered tight religious identities where adherents to the same faith tradition intermarried, attended the same churches, were educated in parochial schools and from the cradle to the grave rubbed shoulders with their own kind.
Devoted to the "narrow way" (
Mathew 7:13-14) Christ pointed his disciples towards, Dutch Reformed Christians like myself observed the same Sunday ritual during the 1950s. We prayed before and after breakfast and finished meals with Bible reading. We attended a one and one-half hour morning worship service featuring a doctrinal sermon lasting 40 minutes. Then came Sunday School. Returning home, we ate pot roast, potatoes and green beans. We napped with Christian classical music in the background. Arising, we studied catechism lessons, memorizing answers to why we believed what we believed. Mid-afternoon youth choir practice came next at church, followed by another full-blown evening worship service. After church we retired early to prepare for classes at Christian parochial schools. A break in this ritual occurred when my dad tuned in to news on the Mutual Radio Network before evening worship. Mother reminded us that radio announcers worked on Sunday. We shouldn't listen to them.
For centuries Christians grew up in such enclaves. Mobility has shattered these immigrant ghettoes defined by tight religious rituals. Here strong denominational traditions were passed down through generations of believers. With their demise, Oprah's eclectic faith thrives as historic Christian traditions take a dive.