The Great Emergence – The 500 Year Theological Rummage Sale

The “every five hundred year rummage sale” is upon us. Phyllis Tickle (1935-2015) posited the theory in The Great Emergence: How Christianity is Changing and Why (2012). Many of us have had rummage sales to think out our belongings—to light the weight of our lives, so to speak. Others have them to try to fit a car back in the garage, or for the first time. Still others have them as an exercise of “letting go,” to unburden thyself from the non-essentials that are often holding us back from living our dreams. No matter when or why, the rummage sale is often the result of a moment of realization—to much stuff makes it difficult to move around or discern what is really important in our lives, and what is just in the way or taking up space.

In the nearly 2,000 year of the Christian Church, about every 500 years the realization came that too much crap had piled up in our theological storage rooms and that we lost track of what was truly important. Jesus initiated, or at least participated in, one such spring season of cleaning as he and others tried to peel back the layers of extraneous layers piled up on the Jewish faith. Sometimes we call it “getting back to basics.”

By the 16th century, two such theological and ecclesial rummage sales had nearly broken the church. But a third one was already under way. Somehow the church survived the previous two mostly still intact, though the 12th century split between east and west would create a permanent scar. But a third rummage sale would break the Church for centuries to come. It became known as the Protestant Reformation for its emphasis on protesting the abuses of the Roman Catholic Church, and left the Church not just split. It shattered into a thousand disparate pieces.

Half a century later we do not “celebrate” the breaking of the Church. But we do honor the sacrifices and dedication of those who sought to reform Christ’s Church by sifting through the many layers of old liturgical, theological, and ecclesial junk that had collected over the centuries. It is not coincidence that we honor Reformation Sunday (the last Sunday of October, closest to the 31st when in 1517 Martin Luther posted his 95 “theses,” or grievances, against the Church on the door of the Cathedral in Wittenberg, Germany) the same month we celebrate (yes, celebrate) “World Communion Sunday (the first Sunday of October) We remember our common connection to all of humanity, all of the globe, al of creation, as we also remember how fragile and splintered our connectional nature really is.

Our fragility is on full display these days. The growing pangs of social media are exposing our tendency to seek shortcuts to authenticity. News alert: shortcuts don’t work. The pandemic has revealed our need for one another, our need for deeper social connection, our need to be seen beyond skin deep. Real and authentic connection requires time, investment, intentionality, and a willingness to reveal our vulnerability. And all that means peeling back the protective layers built over years of getting hurt and re-discovering our authentic and most basic selves. I believe this was at the core of what Jesus was trying to do—help the people rediscover their own worth as well as the worth of others, especially those deemed by social structures to be unworthy.

One positive thing about social media and an increasingly media savvy population is that we are becoming experts at detecting inauthenticity, albeit at the risk of becoming generally cynical. The Church being made up of “us” means that “we” are increasingly becoming aware of the centuries of layers that have been veneered over Jesus and the gospel. A non-denominational pastor by the name of Dan Kimball wrote a book entitled They Like Jesus But Not the Church: Insights from Emerging Generations (2007). A title like that, and many more afterwards that were very similar, should be a wakeup call for those of us in the church. The pandemic has helped sharpen our awareness. The rummage sale has been in full motion for decades, but now seems to have picked up steam. Fewer people are “returning” to Church after taking a break in 2020. We are in the midst of discerning how to be the Church during and eventually after COVID-19 (or at least when the coronavirus is hopefully more contained with vaccinations, like the Spanish Flu of 1918). Part of the discernment process is also learning where those layers came from. What’s the reason behind our traditions and practices? How did they get their start, and is that still relevant?

What will we become? What will the movement that Jesus began look like after this latest century-old rummage sale? I honestly don’t know. But I am both anxious and excited to be a part of it and find out. What do you think it will look like? What “layers” or practices do you think we need to rethink or even consider chucking, and why?

Lately, especially during the pandemic as we have all had to learn new ways of being, other questions are emerging: What can the Church become? What opportunities are being presented to us? What do we need to shed in order to shift to be healthier and more faithful to the core of Jesus’ message? I imagine, like the Protestant Reformation, we won’t know how they will shape the church for decades or even centuries to come. But it is important we seek to address them.