Words Matter: Membership

I’m back after a busy start to summer, with the fourth in an on-going series exploring the unique use of certain words and phrases within the Church of God. Learn more about this series HERE.

In the attempt to flesh out our theology, Church of God pioneers sought out ways to reimagine common religious language. In the context of the late 19^th century, our movement’s innovations were driven just as much by the rejection of institutional church life in America as they were by fresh theological understandings.

Our conception of “member” and “membership” became another distinguishing mark in contrast to the mainstream Christianity at the time. This peculiar perspective lingers in the Church of God today, albeit with less fervor. Nevertheless, it further reflects our convictions about the church and how ecclesial life should be expressed.

Those of us who have spent considerable time in the movement know that “membership” is a word that causes a certain level of conversational anxiety. Whenever we are pressed to use the word or respond to it, we feel the need to explain and clarify the particular nuances of our position. We are especially careful about how we express this in our own congregations, but also when talking with those outside of our movement. The ripple effect of this is seen in the many anecdotes I am sure we are all familiar with, when a Church of God individual starts attending a congregation of a different denomination and, to the frustration of their leadership, refuses to become a member of that fellowship.

In short, we bristle at the suggestion of any formal church membership that endues implicit or explicit spiritual status. It is not that we see membership itself as bad or wrong—it is a biblical concept derived from the metaphor of the human body (e.g. Romans 12:4-5). The problem, as we see it, is the human criteria and constraints around membership which supersede God who is the one who ultimately places us within the church through Christ.

Warner railed against the extra requirements placed on those in the church, emphasizing that he did not teach or accept any “other condition of membership in the church, than those conditions found in the Word of God.” As another early Gospel Trumpet writer emphasized, “We keep no class-book, or record of membership, but believe it is sufficient to have our names recorded in heaven.” Members are those who have been spiritually reborn—a theological understanding that expressed itself frequently on church signage with the tagline, “Where Christian Experience Makes You a Member.”

As is often the case with such interpretations and positions, working them out practically is somewhat more challenging than the ideal to which we aspire.

The best example of this can be seen in how congregations try to establish clear and consistent boundaries for their fellowship, especially when it comes to legal matters, but increasingly as well for accountability. It is easy to say that “blood-washed ones” make up the church, but when it comes down to making important congregational decisions, that definition becomes unworkable, if not precarious. To address this concern, it has been common practice for our churches to include a provision for “voting members” in their bylaws, outlining several criteria, ranging from church attendance to financial support. Despite the attempts to clarify the differences between our spiritual understanding of membership and this legal definition, in practice the actual distinction is largely blurred.

Recognizing the difficulties in the above semantic gymnastics, a growing number of Church of God congregations are adopting more formal, general membership standards. Their argument is that avoiding membership hampers relational and functional accountability. In addition, they contend that discipleship requires a certain level of commitment to being part of a local congregation, and that may include such requirements as tithing, among other things.

As is typically the case when examining our movement’s history, it is highly instructive to understand the original context in which our early pioneers found themselves, and the abuses they reacted against. As in other, similar cases, the circumstances of the past may not be as relevant to us today.

What Warner and others were reacting to 135 years ago is the explicit and implicit status that church membership represented in society. Especially among mainline churches, being a member granted certain levels of privilege both within and outside the congregation. In the larger society, it may have given one greater access to certain jobs or political office. Within the church itself, full participation, including such rites as communion, depended on it. This tied in well with other status points, such as the buying of pews which gave families preferential seating during services. It is no wonder that people found it confusing to distinguish between formal membership and one’s place before God.

For the most part, oppressive membership policies and procedures are not as prevalent in North America today. In a society that values free-will association, excessive boundary barriers do not go over well. Of course, there are still churches that exercise tight controls, and the Church of God is right to critique the abuses that arise out of such membership systems.

Today, we may be at a point where the pendulum has swung to the other side. In many situations, the lack of clear expectations and declarations may be feeding the hyper-individualism of our age, preventing meaningful accountability and discipleship within congregations. Churches and leaders would be wise to examine the current discussions around “bounded sets” and “centered sets” for congregational life and ministry.

I have heard it wrongly asserted that “the Church of God does not have membership.” In fact, we have never been opposed to membership per se, rather the emphasis on institutional belonging over one’s spiritual status within the church. In this manner, our movement has instilled a certain degree of thoughtfulness into the discussion. That’s a legacy worth acknowledging.