But there’s certainly much to debate about whether peace studies makes a difference in the real world. The University of Bradford Peace Studies programme is hoping to stimulate that debate with a new blog. Click here to join the discussion. …

I’m on my holidays now for two weeks so will only be blogging periodically – look forward to interacting with you all in more depth when I get back.

I was reminded of these diametrically opposed interpretations of the emerging church today when giving a seminar titled ‘Is Religion Doomed?’ at the New Horizon conference at the University of Ulster in Coleraine.

New Horizon is a must-attend event for many evangelicals in Northern Ireland, with between 2,000 and 3,000 people turning up every year. It includes worship times, sermons, prayer meetings, and seminars for people of all ages.

Because I’m trained as a social scientist, I took a social scientific approach to my seminar topic, first providing some data on the decline of religion in the West. I then examined the ‘emerging church’ movement, presenting it as one response to the decline of traditional religious institutions.

I said that people involved with the emerging church saw the decline of religion in the West as in part a by-product of the failings of the institutional churches.

As Cary Gibson reminded us in a recent guest post on this blog, when we are discussing the relationship between the emerging and the institutional churches, we must be careful that we are clear about what we mean by the ‘institutional’ churches.

So, since the emerging church is driven primarily by former evangelicals in the UK, Ireland and North America, I suggested that its critique is concentrated on what they see as shortcomings in the evangelical churches.

There is of course a great deal of diversity within evangelicalism, so even reducing the ‘institutional’ debate to evangelical institutions doesn’t fully satisfy Gibson’s call for clearer definitions. Even so, I argued that the emerging churches’ major critiques are:

• Evangelical churches have been interested in the wrong issues: personal morality and sexual matters (sex before marriage, restricting gay rights, abortion) at the expense of more important social justice issues
• Evangelical churches have sold their souls politically. In Northern Ireland this has meant aligning themselves with unionism; in the US this has meant aligning themselves with the Republican Party
• Evangelical churches have been wrong to insist on literalist readings of the bible; people in the emerging church would say the bible should be read as a dynamic document that is up for debate
• Evangelical churches have created unrealistic expectations, such as Christianity is about being happy and fulfilled all of the time, Christians should never have any doubts about their faith, and God will always answer your prayers the way you want as long as you have enough faith
• Evangelical churches have created unrealistic and damaging images of Christ, whether that is a ‘buddy Jesus’ or a vicious, all-conquering king who will vanquish his enemies in a bloody battle at the end of time
• Evangelical churches have told people they should not have doubts about their faith; people in the emerging church would say that doubt should be embraced, not resisted

A member of the audience pointed out that these critiques caricatured evangelical Christianity. I understand why he would say this.

To the extent that the emerging church has developed primarily out of evangelicalism, it unavoidably defines itself against it. Because emergent Christians are offering a critique, they pick out all evangelicalism’s shortcomings, making it seem like they are pounding away at a ‘straw man’ or a stereotype.

Indeed, that was Christianity Today writer Scot McKnight’s main complaint about emerging Christian Brian McLaren’s new book, A New Kind of Christianity – that McLaren had painted an ugly picture of evangelicalism that he did not recognise.

Prior to the seminar, I had listed two books as prepatory reading: Peter Rollins’ The Fidelity of Betrayal and John Carroll’s The Existential Jesus. An audience member said that he was familiar with Rollins’ work, and that he saw it as a harmful betrayal of Christianity.

He added that he surprised to see that a New Horizon seminar had recommended a Rollins book, wondered why I had included it, and asked if it should have some sort of health warning.

My response was that if emerging and evangelical Christians are to understand each other, it is necessary to read or hear what the others are saying straight from the horses’ mouths, so to speak.

I think that’s a better alternative than, for example, an evangelical simply reading a Don Carson critique of the emerging church. And that’s better than an emerging Christian simply reading a Brian McLaren critique of evangelicalism.

Another member of the New Horizon audience observed that there was very little positive in my presentation. She asked if there was anything hopeful she could take away from it.

I could understand why the audience member thought my presentation was negative – I did, after all, spell out the emerging churches’ pretty hard-hitting critique of evangelicalism.

Her reaction reminded me that when emerging and evangelical churches interact, there’s a strong possibility that people are going to get hurt, to misunderstand each other, to find it hard to see the good in each other.

When that happens, it is difficult to hear if your conversation partner has anything constructive to say.

But I think it’s a hopeful sign that evangelical cultures throughout the West are dynamic enough to have produced, to a large extent, the emerging church: a reform movement that is interested in critique and debate and living authentic Christian lives.

Evangelicals also are interested in living authentic Christian lives. They also want to make the world a better place. It would be a pity if evangelicals and emerging Christians can’t find ways to talk with each other constructively about all of this.

You will be able to access a recording of this seminar, and other New Horizon seminars, by registering on their website. There is a nominal cost for downloading seminars.

On Thursday, I presented another seminar based on my forthcoming book with Claire Mitchell. This seminar was based on research among evangelicals in Northern Ireland and titled, ‘Life in a Northern Irish Religious Subculture.’

With her permission, I’ve reproduced that comment here, to draw more attention to the points and questions she raises. She argues that the debate about ‘what the emerging church wants’ is getting bogged down by generalisations, and that it is misleading to frame debate in terms of a ‘retreat’ to the institutional churches.

Gibson also prompts us to ask whether emerging churches harbour what might be thought of as hidden institutions. Hidden institutions is a term I’ve imposed on Gibson’s writing, so I hope it does it justice.

In her comment, Gibson called her thoughts ‘provisional.’ I have done some editing of the comment, usually marked by brackets.

Cary Gibson – Let’s Get Specific

I think the wider conversation of which this is a part, would be greatly enhanced by a greater level of specifics and less generalisation.

I wonder if when we talk about "churches" we’d do well to be clear about what we mean when we use expressions like "institutional churches". Because all churches are not alike.

Further, I fear too much of the conversation is decontextualised and that much of ‘emerging’ conversation risks synecdoche. For example, we say "institutional church" when actually we have a specific kind of church in mind. It makes the critique sound universal, when actually it’s probably far more partial.

For example, comments that actually are directed towards the Church of England context are implied to mean all institutional churches. Or Joel Osteen style mega ministries get to be the definer of how we think all churches understand ‘good news’.

So when expressions like ‘institutional church’ are used we’d be well served to ask:

• What churches specifically are we talking about?
• What actual denominations and congregations are people returning to?
• And what characterises those diverse congregations?
• Or indeed, should we ask people why they are ‘retreating’ rather than assuming they are ‘retreating’?

Are Emergent Christians Retreating?

If "emergent Christians" are retreating – and I’m not entirely convinced of that thesis yet – I’m not sure whether it should be framed in these broad terms or even as a ‘retreat’.

‘Retreat’ suggests or infers that the defining characteristic of emergent Christians is that they left "institutional church”. I’m not sure that actually describes the majority of people defining themselves as emergents or who identify with emerging themes.

Many never left the churches, [because they didn’t belong in the first place]. Thus, the “retreat” is only speaking about a specific group of people. Not all.

‘Retreat’ Unfairly Implies Cowardice

[Further, this debate] doesn’t speak to what motivates people who have left to return to church except to frame them in ‘retreat’ – which implies it’s a lack of bravery/energy/will to keep going outside of an existing structure or community.

Or that they have been co-opted rather than it’s a choice of agency made in positive terms by an individual who desires to make (potentially transformative) contributions in a very specific context and within a personal narrative.

At the end of the day, when ‘returning’ to church one is first and foremost entering a congregation. This is not simply an institution, but a community of people this becomes part of a personal narrative. And that’s the point at which we need context, and specifics. I am increasingly finding that kind of context to be lacking and the conversations or approaches on the table are weaker for that lack.

I think the ‘retreat’ thesis risks denying resistance and agency on behalf of the individuals it purports to be describing, and also makes far too generalised assumptions about the shape or theology of churches.

Hidden Institutions in the Emerging Church?

[We must be careful when we characterise emerging churches as de-institutionalised]. The idea that there is no institutional structure in emerging groups is potentially a red herring. It allows new forms or shapes or leadership styles to avoid the issue and not necessarily self-critique the form they take, simply by virtue of not being ‘institutional’.

If emergent Christians don’t define success by numbers, then the issue of filling stadiums is perhaps a moot point.

Further, that itself is a goal of a very specific kind of Christianity [i.e. a brand of evangelicalism that some emergence Christians define themselves against] and does not speak for all.

One could apply the same critique of [Peter Rollins’] good news/dark gospel.

So we must ask, what exactly do we mean by ‘institutional’?

How we define that often depends on where we’ve come from or where we are for that matter.

I’ve for some time been fairly convinced that definitions of what ‘emerging’ means all too often reflect the traditions of those defining it. But that goes unstated and thus unquestioned for its partial perspective.

The ‘emerging’ vs. ‘institutional’ just sounds far too neat a distinction to my ears. It’s a very diverse range of ‘particular’ experiences we are talking about.

(Image of an Ikon icon at the Waterfront Hall exhibition, Belfast, 2007. Sourced on Flickr)
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Of course, if you ask the people who are involved with the emerging church, you will probably get a unique answer from each person. Some want to reform the church institutions in which they were raised. Others think those institutions are beyond reform and they should be ignored or eliminated altogether.

Some want to shift the focus of Christianity from individual fulfilment and happiness to a grittier, more realistic engagement with people around them, the ‘Other’ of Kester Brewin’s latest book.

Critics of the emerging church argue that in the end it will be nothing more than a blip on the radar screen of religious history, footnoted as an interesting reform movement that ultimately failed to transform or supersede the religious institutions of its day.

Brewin has been responding to this idea in a series of blog posts in which he asks if people involved in the movement in Britain have recently been ‘retreating’ to the religious institutions they had once abandoned.

This is a crucial discussion, because the ability of the emerging church to offer a distinct interpretation of the Christian story – one that resonates in a Western context in which the churches have too often been captive to capitalism and political power holders – will depend on its ability to either resist institutionalisation, or hold relationships with religious institutions in creative tension.

Brewin puts it this way when he characterises the actions of some pre-existing Christian institutions,

My concern is that this could be a political move on the part of the powerful: they can’t afford for a generation to up sticks and leave, so they find new ways to hold on to them, offering certain compromises in the knowledge that once they’re ‘in’ they can be ‘in-stitutionalised’ – made part of the firm.

In a recent blog post, Peter Rollins offers some reflections on a version of the ‘what does the emerging church want?’ question. Rollins was asked ‘what the goal’ of his work was. In this post, Rollins writes about replacing the ‘good news’ that many churches have offered people – a shallow form of individual happiness with a darker vision,

Rather the good news comes down to offering people the possibility of facing up to their suffering and darkness and sharing them with others in some (often ritualistic) way. The good news is found in offering those present the space to face their anxieties (rather than repressing them or falling into despair) and develop the courage to embrace them. This of course is not something that brings in the masses. Stadiums are more often filled by smiling men in good suits offering a lot more (in exchange for a little cash).

With this darker version of the ‘good news,’ I think Rollins articulates something that is crucial – but that can be overlooked – about the emerging church.

Most people who are involved with it will not be quick to define religious ‘success’ in the same ways that the institutionalised churches of the West define success: in conformity to beliefs, church attendance, building programmes, and so on.

But if emergent Christians are ‘retreating’ to institutions, as Brewin claims, I think it is more interesting to ask:

Are they bringing Rollins’ rather dark gospel with them? And if so, how will the institutional churches handle it?

(Photo sourced on Kester Brewin’s blog)

As the unionist newspaper the News Letter puts it, ‘Ulster Rejects Eames Bradley Report on the Troubles.’ So is this just another case of ‘Ulster Says No’?

First, I think it’s worth pointing out that the Eames Bradley Report was itself the product of a wide ranging consultation.

The responses that Paterson has published are essentially yet another consultation on a consultation.

The BBC Reports that this second consultation received 174 individual responses, as well as 72 responses from organisations, political parties, academics and medical experts. It summarises,

Of the organisations that gave a clear view on the recommendation, 22 supported it while 15 opposed it. Out of the 174 individual responses, 165 were against the proposal.

It also says,

Out of 174 people who responded to the report, most rejected it in its entirety without comment.

I have to ask how useful a consultation is that doesn’t manage to get many of those who rejected the Report to provide any reasons for doing so, let alone constructive criticisms or alternative suggestions.

Of those who did respond more fully, Paterson notes that this serves mainly to highlight the disagreement and diversity of opinion about what should be done to deal with the past.

It’s hard to know if or how much any of those who responded to the Report were affected by the negative reaction and coverage of one of the report’s recommendations, a £12,000 recognition payment.

Indeed, in an editorial in today’s Belfast Telegraph, Paterson specifically condemns this recommendation,

Discussion of the Eames-Bradley Report was, of course, dominated by the proposal for a £12,000 universal recognition payment.

This Government does not agree with that recommendation and will not be taking it forward. Such payments would make no distinction whatever between the perpetrators of terrorism and their victims.

We cannot — and will never — accept that.

Politically motivated violence, on all sides, was never justified, and we will not be party to a re-write of history in order to give it a spurious legitimacy. We will not compromise our support for the rule of law.

Paterson also said,

Following Saville, there will be no more open-ended and costly inquiries into the past at vast public expense. We will not accept a hierarchy of investigations into the past.

So we know what we won’t be dealing with the past through recognition payments or inquiries. But what will we be doing?

It’s not clear to me that the publication of these responses advances that debate very much, although Paterson identifies some questions that need to be addressed:

• What is the right process for dealing with the past?
• Do we need to do more work on building a shared future before actively confronting what are very painful events?
• How should we spend the limited resources we have on the past when there are so many pressures on current public spending?
• How do we balance investigating the past while ensuring that we effectively police the present and the future?

That last question should take on an even greater urgency given the rioting over the 12^th of July period. For those tempted to dismiss the mayhem, a chilling article from Sunday’s Telegraph bears the tagline, ‘Last week’s riots in Northern Ireland could be the harbinger of a new wave of republican terrorism, with dissident groups recruiting youths who feel betrayed by Stormont.’

It details how Sinn Fein representatives, who previously might have exerted some control over the area, were mocked by the rioting youths, one of whom shouted at Bobby Storey,

"Shove off, old man. … Sure, you sold out your community. Just so that the likes of Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness could parade about in posh suits and sit up in Stormont. What do they care about the Ardoyne now? You lot don’t speak for us any more. Why don’t you just f––– off.”

Dealing with the Past and Building a Shared Future – these two processes must be inextricably linked if Northern Ireland is to move beyond its ancient troubles.

But the rounds of consultations Northern Ireland has had on its past and on its future don’t seem to have gotten us very far.

(The full response document can be found here.)

But in a depressingly usual pattern, the Catholic Church has managed to undermine its own progress by not going far enough. The US-based Survivors Network for those Abused by Priests (SNAP) said the new guidelines were,

"like attacking at an elephant with a pea-shooter when the elephant is almost out of range. … Even if these new guidelines are obeyed, their impact on the ongoing crisis is likely to be insignificant.”

For good measure, the church has tossed in a decree sure to alienate its more free-thinking and creative followers, declaring the "attempted ordination of a woman" to the priesthood as one of the most serious crimes against Church law. Indeed, the Vatican has declared that people who attempt to ordinate women are to be treated according to the same procedures as those accused of sexual abuse.

Some Catholics have been wondering whether an exclusively male, closed, hierarchical clerical culture had anything to do with fostering, perpetuating and covering up sexual abuse.

This latest strident condemnation of women’s ordination looks like the Vatican’s attempt to shut down questioning in that area.

Notwithstanding, the new measures do present some halting progress and I suppose it would be churlish to ignore:

• The statute of limitations for sexual abuse cases has been increased to 20 years after the victim’s 18th birthday from 10 years under the old rules, meaning victims will be able to file charges until they are 38 years old.
• Existing Vatican guidance to bishops that they should report sexual abusers to civil authorities remain in place.
• Sexual abuse by a priest of a mentally handicapped adult will be treated as if the handicapped person were a minor and could lead to dismissal from the priesthood.
• Bishops can defrock priests where evidence of sexual abuse is clear without canonical (ecclesiastical) trials, which can be lengthy and costly. The Church will be able to defrock priests in such cases by decree.
• Priests who acquire, possess or distribute child pornography will be considered to have committed a serious offence subject to the same disciplinary action as abusers.

It is always my instinct to gauge victims and survivors’ reactions to the Catholic Church’s various decrees and apologies before becoming too congratulatory or condemnatory. So I’ll give one of the survivors the last word.

Barbara Dorris of SNAP, said the new guidelines,

"Can be summed up in three words: missing the boat. They deal with one small procedure at the very tail end of the problem: defrocking pedophile priests," she said. "Hundreds of thousands of kids, however, have been sexually violated (by) many other more damaging and reckless moves by bishops and other church staff."

Humphreys asserts that our images of Africa are familiar and therefore even comfortable – either despairing to the extent that we feel helpless to see or effect any change; or positive in a caricatured sort of way, i.e. ‘Africans are always happy.’

A few years ago, one such attitude was neatly encapsulated by the Northern Irish satirist Newton Emerson in his Portadown News, when he wrote to the effect that a truth and reconciliation commission wouldn’t work in Northern Ireland because we don’t have enough ‘forgiving’ black people.

Indeed, South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, similar to the World Cup, is a ‘single event’ that has been used to define the country.

The TRC was undoubtedly helpful in aiding the nation’s relatively peaceful transition from apartheid to democracy. But after rolling a few dramatic scenes of confrontation and catharsis, the media seemed to urge us to conclude that yes, reconciliation had indeed come to South Africa. Perhaps it provided a salve for Western guilt that at least in this case, colonialism had a somewhat ‘happy’ ending.

This has contributed to a Western tendency to overlook the ways in which the TRC has not fulfilled its promise, such as in providing reparations and/or adequate psychological support for all those who took part.

The same could be said of the TRC as Humphries says about the World Cup:

In reality, the event taught us little about Africa. It did, however, teach us something about our attitudes towards Africa.

Humphries suggests that the media (and I would extend his admonition to ourselves as individuals), should resist the urge to reduce life on the continent of Africa to single events and simple story lines.

I’m often reminded of the need to do this when presenting any research that I have conducted on charismatic and Pentecostal Christianity in South Africa and Zimbabwe. My work there has been ethnographic, focusing on congregations that are self-consciously working for social justice.

This doesn’t fit with some of the stereotypical perceptions of African Christianity, which see it as dominated by the ‘health and wealth’ gospel or a puppet of the American Christian Right. Sometimes people –  even other academics – don’t like to see evidence that contradicts or adds complexity to an old familiar story.

The Irish Times suggests another opportunity to hear alternative perspectives on African in a two-day seminar organised by the Africa Centre in Dublin with Dóchas, “The Use of Images and Messages: A Human Rights Issue”.

Those interested in another Christian perspective on South Africa and the World Cup can visit the blog of the Rev. Steve Stockman, minister at Fitzroy Presbyterian in Belfast, which includes a series on spiritual lessons from the event.

The condemnation followed a complaint by Assistant Chief Constable Alastair Finlay on this morning’s Stephen Nolan Show that the First Minister and Deputy First Minister were not showing adequate leadership in the situation.

Nolan, of course, jumped on this, pointing out that there had been disturbances for days and even the dogs on the streets knew the riots were coming.

But when First Minister Peter Robinson and Deputy First Minister Martin McGuinness issued their condemnation, it included a further condemnation of Finlay for daring to voice this opinion.

Okay, so it’s not the role of the police to be ‘political’ in a normal society so maybe Robinson and McGuinness can score a point there.

But at this point I don’t care if Finlay was out of line. I agree – it would have been nice to see Robinson and McGuinness showing some sort of united political leadership throughout the entire 12^th period.

I’m tired of the endless rounds of condemnation and finger pointing that follow these events, which seem to take up more time and energy than doing something like, say, implementing a ‘shared future’ or a ‘cohesion, sharing and integration’ policy.

Each year, my School organises an intensive summer school for our master’s students around the 12^th of July events, called ‘Understanding Loyalism.’

We have an excellent guide in local historian Philip Orr, who tries to help us unpick the varieties and nuances within loyalism, unionism, the Orange Order, the Ulster Scots movement, and others who identify with aspects of Protestant culture that are out on the streets this time of year.

Each year, we meet people from that community who are engaged in creative attempts to promote and rework their culture. This year included perspectives on traditional Lambeg drumming, attempts to foster dialogue between Catholics and Protestants over shared historical experiences such as the tragic loss of life at the Somme during the Great War and the events of 1798, and efforts to identify flute bands with historical military regiments rather than paramilitarism.

But I’m afraid that this year, most of what my students – many of whom are from abroad – will take away from the summer school is memories of the rioting and a sense of hopelessness about the prospects for positive change.

Dr Hayward has contributed another perspective on the book, asking why it matters if Ireland’s political parties are ‘Europeanized?’, on the Queen’s Sociology, Social Policy and Social Work Blog.

This annual event very much hearkens back to Northern Ireland’s past, and depending on your perspective, is either a celebration of cultural heritage or a destructive ritual that represents the desire of some to cling to old and divisive political aspirations.

Last week, the Belfast Telegraph ran a series of stories on new approaches to Northern Ireland politics, billed by David Gordon as ‘a major debate on moving Northern Ireland politics away from tribal headcounts.’

The Telegraph sought the perspectives of a range of commentators from nationalist, unionist, and ‘middle ground’ perspectives.

The debate was framed in the context of looming public sector cuts and the 2011 Assembly elections, driven by the question of whether Northern Ireland’s current politicians are up to the task of working together and delivering on ‘bread and butter’ issues.

As Prof. Rick Wilford of Queen’s University acknowledged in an article on the first day of the series, there’s a strong temptation for both nationalists and unionists to revert to sectarian politics.

This is especially the case with unionists, since the Ulster Unionist-Conservative alliance has failed and there may be pressure on the UUP and DUP to align in the next election in order to prevent Sinn Fein’s Martin McGuinness from becoming First Minister.

But Wilford and other contributors seemed to subscribe to theory that the 2010 Westminster elections provided some indication that people want to move beyond sectarian politics – for instance, in the SDLP’s attitude towards a possible electoral pact and in the election of Alliance’s Naomi Long in East Belfast.

An article by Gordon, however, highlighted the structural problems in achieving non-sectarian politics – not least the way the Assembly is set up. Gordon says,

All the main Assembly parties are represented in the Executive and there is no official Opposition to hold it to account. That must mitigate further against bread and butter issues dominating elections and political life.

My husband is fond of remarking that the Steven Nolan Show is the opposition in Northern Ireland politics.

I think he is only joking – but I can see his point: when the Assembly is not structured in a way that ensures accountability, maybe holding politicians to account does get left to radio shock jocks.

Alternatively, Wilford floated the idea of Alliance, the SDLP and the UUP,

Devising a [2011 Assembly] campaign on common, cross-community ground rather than, in the UUP’s and SDLP’s case, diving for cover into their respective communal trenches …

Wilford adds that this would,

…herald a decisively new kind of politics — though not as game-changing as the preparedness of a unionist to serve alongside Martin McGuinness as deputy First Minister, should such circumstances arise.

Other contributors – Long, SDLP MLA Conall McDevitt, and Platform for Change Chair Robin Wilson – also expressed the view that Northern Ireland’s middle ground must assert itself. They say that socially, politically, and economically, the cost of sectarian politics is just too high.

Right now, much of Northern Ireland’s so-called middle ground is probably on holiday, deliberately avoiding being in the place over the 12^th of July.

Further, Wilford notes the falling turnout in Northern Ireland elections, which he sees as ‘a sign not of contentment, but of disillusion.’

If there is going to be any sort of meaningful change in Northern Ireland politics, the disillusioned middle ground will have to be tempted back into the voting booths or into community activism, convinced that there really can be a better shared future for all.

Despite the Telegraph’s debate, I’m not convinced that there’s a groundswell of ‘middle ground’ politicians ready to lead them.