During the 1960s liberal Protestant leaders, at every level of church
structure, made noble efforts to push, pull, and drag the churches into
the twentieth century. But their efforts, having fallen short, instead
churned to the surface all the latent conflict and tension simmering
deep within. They are now experiencing tremendous pressure to stifle
their efforts to enact policies consistent with their understanding of
the implications of Christian theology in matters of brotherhood,
justice, and peace. They are also discovering that the problem runs
deeper than mere resistance to committing the institution to programs of
social change; the churches themselves have been and continue to be
stalwart agents reinforcing and providing legitimacy not only for the
status quo but also for prejudice, intolerance, and hatred.
Our culture has at least momentarily retreated from the central
struggles for human justice. And in the respite from battle, liberal
church leaders are realizing the folks back home supported the
enemy all along. Or, in the immortal words of comic-page philosopher
Pogo, "I have seen the enemy and they is us." Some religious leaders are
now advocating that the churches should pay attention to survival and
maintenance goals at all costs. What seemed a clearly charted course in
the mid-sixties, they argue, was an ill-conceived game plan long overdue
for the shredding machine. But for a very large proportion of clergy
deeply involved in the struggles for social justice during the sixties,
the present is a time of confusion, apprehension, and guilt. They know
the problems remain. They also know the unfinished business of creating
a just social order involves acting upon the structures which breed
injustice.
But how are they to act? They know their personal ministries cannot
survive direct confrontation strategies. They know their congregations
cannot survive continued polarization. The foregoing excerpt from an
interview we conducted in mid-1973 with a former "activist" summarizes
well what we sense to be the mood of thousands of clergy whose great
expectations now lie shattered. They are discontent with the prospect
of returning to a privatized, pietistic faith which knows not and cares
not for the problems of our society and world.
Perhaps the most distinctive feature of clergy involvement in social
action during the 1960s was their acting in groups. "Where two or three
were gathered," commitment to act was reinforced and the brainpower to
develop strategies was enhanced. In contrast, the struggle of the
seventies to find new handles, new strategies for meaningful ministries,
has become a very private affair. Loneliness can breed despair. We hope
this volume may in some small measure contribute to dialogue and
collective strategies for new vistas of involvement.
