Unfracturing faith

As TCU's Homecoming Chair this past year, I found myself increasingly interested in stories of the university's past. A quick search through any history book on TCU will provide readers with hundreds of interesting stories, but my personal favorite goes something like this:

Students and community members in 1894 had gathered in the TCU chapel for a revival of sorts. After receiving prior permission from the president of the university, Addison Clark, student leaders planned to incorporate organ music into the opening worship service during the revival. On the night of the service, however, President Clark was handed a petition with over one hundred signatures of persons who claimed they would leave the Christian church if the organ was played, since the Bible did not explicitly authorize organ music in worship. Nevertheless, true to his word, President Clark turned to Ms. Bertha Fuller, the student organist, and boldly instructed her, "Play on Ms. Bertha, play on." Just as the notes of the organ started the hymn, so too did the split in the Campbellite movement begin. Those petitioners left the sanctuary and the irreconcilable spilt became inevitable.

Considering that members of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) still represent a small fraction of Christians in the United States, it would be fair to say that many of my religious activities and experiences have involved people outside of the Disciples tradition. In the past, I have sometimes felt this fact to be most unfortunate. It is easy for me to become tired of defending my religious beliefs and values when so few around me seem to understand or respect them. But as I have matured during my college years, I have developed a new appreciation for the different faith perspectives of my friends. I have been fortunate enough to have wonderful friends that are open to discussing the distinctive aspects of our various denominational traditions. Whether with a Baptist, a Catholic, or a friend affiliated with one of the many non-denominational churches in my generation, these conversations have provoked many questions.

Since coming to college, I have been lucky to keep in close contact with a group of my high school friends. As our friendships have deepened, we have tended to take up issues like religion much more frequently. On more than one occasion these four friends and I have sat around a kitchen table and asked tough spiritual questions of one another. Two of the four are United Methodists and the other two are members of a Churches of Christ congregation. While the Methodists and I naturally find ourselves aligned when it comes to matters of women in the church or biblical interpretation, I have been surprised by the number of times my Churches of Christ friends and I have shared similar church experiences, for example, our common references to weekly communion, baptism by immersion, Alexander Campbell, or Barton Stone.

With stories like the one above filling books on the history of Christianity, it is easy to comprehend the pain that divisions within our tradition have caused. And while the church is regrettably broken by disagreements of faith and practice and few seem to be committed to Christian unity or working towards church union, perhaps there is still some value and joy in our diversity. How wonderful it is that I can express my strong convictions as a member of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), listen to theirs as United Methodists or members of the Churches of Christ, and walk away proud of my church but respectful of theirs. Spiritual growth could not be expected if there were no hard questions to explore with colleagues and friends. My prayer is that our various differences continue to remind us of our more profound similarities while we continue to search for the truth.