Would Phineas' Church of the Nazarene be considered "Emergent" today?

[Paul DeBaufer]

Thomas Jay Oord in his most recent blog dated 22 April 2010 draws parallels betwixt the first Church of the Nazarene, founded 1895 in L.A., and the current so called emergent movement.

http://thomasjayoord.com/index.php/blog/archives/the_first_emergent_nazarene/

He quotes the first sermon, as reported in the Los Angeles Times,

"Notice that Christ does not say: “Accept the creed which I frame; observe the church forms or rituals I devise; join the church which I have found.” He only said, “Follow Me.” It is as though he had said, “Come, live my life with me.” What does it mean? It means that Christianity is not a creed, not an ecclesiasticism, not a ritual, but a life.
It is this simple Christ life, which the world hungers for, and which gives birth to the cry that goes up from all lands: “We are tired of forms and creeds. Let us go back to Christ.”
It is this Christ life that we are to take out with us and teach and live in this city mission work that is our chosen field.
Yet the present question has been asked, “Why not do this work under present church lines with their machinery, instead of forming a new organization?” The question contains its own answer. It is because of the machinery. The churches are steadily withdrawing from this field."



Does Dr. Oord draw a correct parallel? Would this statement from this very early Nazarene sermon reflect a current emergent thought? Should the renewal we are looking for call for a return our roots then look for ways to express that in the current culture?

[Todd Erickson]

The CotN has done precisely, in 100 years, what the original Methodist church did. They got comfortable as an institution.

[Dennis Bratcher]

Thomas Jay Oord in his most recent blog dated 22 April 2010 draws parallels betwixt the first Church of the Nazarene, founded 1895 in L.A., and the current so called emergent movement.

http://thomasjayoord.com/index.php/blog/archives/the_first_emergent_nazarene/

He quotes the first sermon, as reported in the Los Angeles Times,

"Notice that Christ does not say: “Accept the creed which I frame; observe the church forms or rituals I devise; join the church which I have found.” He only said, “Follow Me.” It is as though he had said, “Come, live my life with me.” What does it mean? It means that Christianity is not a creed, not an ecclesiasticism, not a ritual, but a life.
It is this simple Christ life, which the world hungers for, and which gives birth to the cry that goes up from all lands: “We are tired of forms and creeds. Let us go back to Christ.”
It is this Christ life that we are to take out with us and teach and live in this city mission work that is our chosen field.
Yet the present question has been asked, “Why not do this work under present church lines with their machinery, instead of forming a new organization?” The question contains its own answer. It is because of the machinery. The churches are steadily withdrawing from this field."

Does Dr. Oord draw a correct parallel? Would this statement from this very early Nazarene sermon reflect a current emergent thought? Should the renewal we are looking for call for a return our roots then look for ways to express that in the current culture?

I'll leave it to others more emergent than I to respond adequately to this. I would certainly agree with Tom's conclusion: " . . . our birth and roots are not so different from the emergence movement we see arising today."

Still, I think there is a danger in overreaction. Independent churches with no denominational ties are all the rage today. It is part of that complex cultural phenomenon that we label "post-modern." In many ways, "emergent" is also a product of the same cultural shifts, which calls for some care in how we go about applying some of the sentiments above (the historical context of the emergence of the CofN from Los Angeles Methodism of 1895 also needs to be considered).

Some might suggest that this longing for freedom from denominational structures in the name of "just living for Jesus" is an expression of "the Church is a historical reality, which organizes itself in culturally conditioned forms. . ." There is truth there.

Yet I think history, and tradition, matter a little more than merely things that can be discarded by claiming new forms. The "culturally conditioned" part is important but it cannot define the Church. There is always a tension between stability (preservation, conservatism, status quo) and change (dynamic, liberality, new wineskins). The danger in embracing stability is that we become fossilized, unable to adapt to new circumstances, new ways of thinking, and new people. Yet, the danger in embracing change is that we reject the vector of tradition that tells us who we are, why we exist, and what we are to be about, and becomes an exercise in self-gratification.

We certainly need to change in order to live in a world that is constantly new. Yet without a proportionate emphasis on those structures that bring stability, the traditions and history that have brought us to the present, we have no compass to guide us into the future. That is the power of the idea of walking into the future backwards, charting a course into the future by seeing where we have been. We know the direction to go because we know where we are, and we know where we are because we know where we have been.


Deut 6:20 When your children ask you in time to come, "What is the meaning of the decrees and the statutes and the ordinances that the LORD our God has commanded you?" 6:21 then you shall say to your children, "We were Pharaoh's slaves in Egypt, but the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand." [also Exod 12:26, Josh 4:6, 21]

So, I think history and tradition are more than just incidental accoutrements that can be discarded. They are certainly secondary in relation to living the Gospel and living as Kingdom people. But both provide us some guidelines and some parameters for what it means to be people of God.



A couple of weeks ago, I attended a performance of The Fiddler on the Roof. The play itself is interesting because of the diversity of the characters, the music, and the sometimes subtle humor.

But it is the story itself that is especially gripping. It deals with tradition, with change, and with the struggle to hold onto what is important amid the shifting circumstances of life. The story is told through Tevye, a poor Jew living in Russia at the first of the 20th century. Immense changes are on the horizon. The social turmoil seething in the country will soon break out into the Russian revolution.

But Tevye doesn’t know that. He only senses that the world is changing. Like the fiddler who plays while balanced precariously on the roof, Tevye must find a way to balance who he is and what he believes with the realities of a changing world.

In his opening song Tevye sings about tradition. For him, the traditions of the past, of his community, and of his faith, give stability to his life. Tradition helps him define the world and himself by something beyond the small peasant community where he lives. For him tradition is an anchor point that cannot be touched by the prejudices of the people around him, by the persecutions against his faith and his people, or by the shifting whims of political rulers. Tradition provides the balance.

Yet, as the story unfolds, Tevye begins to realize that tradition is not something cast in concrete and unchangeable. His five daughters are growing up. He soon realizes that they have grown up in a different world than he did. At first they make minor decisions which do not fit with his understanding of tradition. He struggles with trying to decide exactly what is important enough to change for, and what he must held on to. He weighs the options. On the one hand, tradition. On the other hand, change. Each time, he decides that sometimes tradition must bend to keep pace with a changing world, and for the sake of people.

But the choices of his daughters escalate until finally one daughter wants to marry a non-Jew. He is not only of a different faith, he is a Russian soldier who has been involved in the persecutions of the Jewish community. Tevye cannot bend that far and disowns the daughter. As he says, "If I bend that far, I will break." Tevye will not give up his tradition.

Finally, though, he bends far enough to make a move of reconciliation toward his daughter. The story ends with the family going different directions. Three of his daughters have moved away. He and his remaining family are forced out of their home by renewed persecutions against the Jews.

Tevye and his family journey into an unknown future -- followed by the fiddler, the symbol of tradition. It is the tradition, finally, that will help them keep their balance no matter what comes, even when the tradition itself must be shown the way. It is the shared traditions that bind them together, even when everything around them is changing. And it is their shared heritage that provides them the base from which they can change when change is necessary. [From "Living Stones ("http://www.crivoice.org/S-stones.html); it is interesting that this article was written almost 20 years ago now, so this is not a new crisis.]

Grace and Peace,

Dennis B.

[John Kennedy]

I've dealt with this tradition/innovation interface most often in a worship context, but an insight that was valuable, at least to me, in that setting, has some merit here: the same God who spoke of 'making all things new' was also the God who kept saying 'remember......remember.....'

[Ryan Scott]

I'd say "unique and innovative, yes, but emergent in the same sense, probably not." Although I recognize that Tom's done a lot more research on this than I have, so I'll have to respect his perspective here.

[Rich Schmidt]

I couldn't say one way or the other whether Tom Oord's parallel is correct.... but I'm curious why you put Phineas' name in the title of this thread when he wasn't even mentioned in Tom's blog post. I was surprised, when I clicked the link and read the post, to find that it was about J. P. Widney, and that the words quoted above are from his sermon, not one of Bresee's...

[Paul DeBaufer]

I couldn't say one way or the other whether Tom Oord's parallel is correct.... but I'm curious why you put Phineas' name in the title of this thread when he wasn't even mentioned in Tom's blog post. I was surprised, when I clicked the link and read the post, to find that it was about J. P. Widney, and that the words quoted above are from his sermon, not one of Bresee's...

Bresee is credited with starting CotN. And I think I did it to distinguish the LA church from the associations that came together to form the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene and eventually the church as we now know it. Since that first church and the denomination I felt I needed a way to distinguish betwixt the two. I was surprised to read that Widney gave the first sermon.

[Ryan Scott]

Yes, but J.P. Widney was a loon. I would be much more likely to support him as an early emergent than Bresee.