Cultivating an Institutional Imagination
Photo by Jacek Dylag on Unsplash
The world’s last great pandemic, the “Spanish flu,” arrived in the city of Houston, Texas in the late fall of 1918, and its impact was immediately devastating. Newspapers reported that the city came to a standstill. Stores were closed and restaurants shut down. The wealthy fled for isolated summer cottages while those who remained in the city barricaded themselves indoors. Does this sound familiar?
The sick were treated by relatives and neighbors in their homes until their condition became too dire to manage. At that point they were rushed to the few doctors still taking patients. The need for hospital beds so far outpaced the demand in Houston that some of the sick died in the streets while lining up to see a doctor at one of the medical clinics hastily erected in abandoned lots.
One of Houston’s leading doctors during that pandemic, Dr. Oscar Norsworthy, also happened to own a small thirty bed hospital. Norsworthy and his small staff struggled to meet the demand for its services, and, desperate to keep both his clinic and medical practice afloat, the doctor turned to the only group of people in Houston capable and even eager to fund, support, and manage the care of so many sick Houstonians: the Methodists.
In the early twentieth century, hospitals were not places one necessarily went to get well. They were places where the dying went when all other home treatment options were exhausted. Signing into a hospital bed was akin to signing into hospice today. But programs for hospital improvement had been embraced in the U.S. North during the late nineteenth century, and soon what had started as a cri de cœur of Progressive-era social reformers became an emphasis of social witness for several Protestant denominations, perhaps none more so than the Methodist Episcopal Church, North. Just as Jesus had reached out to heal the sick and outcast around him, turn-of-the-century Methodists came to see physical regeneration through medicine as a crucial element in the moral and spiritual regeneration of the entire nation.
This evangelical emphasis of hospital reform soon reached the U.S. South, especially those areas newly affluent with money from oil and its related industries. In a rapid deal in Houston, the Texas Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, bought Norsworthy’s hospital and quickly expanded its staff and available beds. A call went out to the churches of the conference to buy “subscriptions” to support expansion of the hospital and by 1922, with only church support, the hospital had raised $100,000 for expansion—a substantial amount for the time.
Visit Houston Methodist Hospital today and you are visiting one of the finest medical centers in the entire world. It is an institutional legacy to take pride in and it started because groups of Houston Methodists linked their personal growth in holiness to a mission of care and outreach for their city and state. For Methodists in the midst of the world’s last great pandemic, the call to channel their religious faith into the building of an institution was not a diversion from the call of the gospel; for some Methodists of the time, it was a part of their understanding of what it meant to go on to perfection.
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The history and stories of our denominational institutions are important because they remind us of the faith of the saints of our Church. But what should also be notable about the story of something like Houston Methodist Hospital is just how difficult it is to imagine the building of a generational institution in our current era of denominational stasis. What great missional institution will come out of United Methodism during the Covid-19 pandemic of 2020? What new ministry will catch the imagination of our Church, inspire people to give sacrificially, and will go on to change the lives of untold numbers of people for generations? Such miracles are surely possible; Jesus reminds us that mustard seeds have a way of turning into magnificent foliage, after all. But if you have trouble imagining just what that mustard seed might be right now, and what fruit our grandchildren and great grandchildren might reap because of it, you are not alone.
For several decades now, trust in United Methodist institutional life has waned, even while support of individual local churches has, on the whole, remained steady, even if not overwhelmingly strong. There are numerous historical reasons for this pattern of distrust, but what should be noted is how denominational distrust has largely mirrored a general pattern in American institutional life that has only been accelerating in recent decades.
In his book A Time to Build, the writer and social critic Yuval Levin argues that trust in American institutions of all forms, including government and universities to the media and the family, has declined because too many institutions have allowed themselves to be hijacked and maladministered by those who only seek to use them for personal gain. Instead of having one’s character shaped and formed by the institution of which they are a part, too many people have used these institutions as personal platforms to gain wealth, fame, and power.
For example, while the media might have always had its biases, can we really say that we’re better informed by today’s media environment led by those who are simply the best at spinning political reality each night? As Christians, we should value truth and care about our broken world, not encourage those who profit from its brokenness. Or, think of the recent news of the couple who, after building a massive social media following documenting their family life and adoption process, was deluged with public scorn when they “re-homed” their adopted child after his learning and behavioral disabilities proved too difficult for them to manage. Our Christian response to this family should be compassion, of course, but their infamy is a lesson for any who would use the sacred institution of marriage and family for internet clicks and influencer opportunities. The comment sections of social media are poor replacements for the community of friends, neighbors, and church fellowship that nurture healthy families and marriages.
While the United Methodist Church has largely avoided the pitfalls of an over reliance on the work of celebrity pastors and some of their downfalls (a phenomenon much more prevalent in the congregations of our non-denominational evangelical brothers and sisters), the distrust of our institutional life remains prevalent. I recall being stunned when I heard the pastor of one of the denomination’s largest congregations publicly state that his congregation would not support the United Methodist Church’s “Imagine No Malaria” campaign because it lacked an evangelism component. I admit, to that point I had not thought deeply about the issue, and this pastor made several good points for why that effort did not align with his own missional vision. But whether one agrees with such a viewpoint (I admit, I still supported the “Imagine No Malaria” effort, though I was more discerning in support after that), there’s no doubt that this pastor’s skepticism of large, multi-million dollar campaigns is born of a history in which the United Methodist Church has funneled untold resources of time, money, and prayer into institutional expressions that have resulted in a shrinking denomination with less impact and less ministry than it had even two or three decades ago. This is not meant to be an indictment of the ministries of the many faithful servants who have stewarded these institutions over the years; but an organization that does not face its failures is simply doomed to repeat them, if it even gets the chance to do so at all in the future.
This is why, as Methodism approaches the reality of its post-united future, it is worth considering the role of denominational institutions. There is no doubt that, no matter what happens, major reform of current institutional practices will need to be addressed. Some would advocate for a Methodist expression with as few institutions as possible in order to remain a nimble and responsive Church, capable of quickly answering God’s missional call in the world. I encourage this stance of remaining nimble, but a rejection of institutional ties—a polity that looks more like our congregational or non-denominational friends—is neither practical nor healthy for Methodism. While it is true that John Wesley attempted to keep his movement from institutionalizing as a unique Church for as long as possible, the fact is, Wesley maintained and grew his movement by investing in a variety of institutions that have lasted for generations in some form, such as schools and a publishing empire. It is impractical to abandon a ministry of institution building because institutional formations are where the dreams of God’s people find concrete expression in the present and for their future.
So, what institutions are worth investing in for Methodism’s future? I don’t pretend to have all the answers; it will take our most passionate and imaginative leaders to paint this future for us, but a few seem worthy of our attention:
The Family – The family has been seen as society’s most important institutional foundation going back to Aristotle. Wesley believed that catechesis took place in the home, and even wrote an entire catechetical book for parents struggling to teach their children the basics of the faith. Yet today, most families reject the idea that the home should be the locus of Christian teaching for children. Our denomination (along with basically every other American church) has accepted this largely without question. We have set up our family ministries—both locally and denominationally—in ways that allow and encourage parents to subcontract Christian formation to a children’s or youth ministry.
While there is no doubt that many lives are changed through effective family ministry in the local church, my hope is that Methodists will be on the front line of rethinking family formation in the twenty-first century. To do this, we will need institutional structures that support and resource these new endeavors (because, believe me, most parents will not accept this responsibility without strong local church and institutional support). My hope is that we might build institutions that shift the religious education platform away from specialized ministry and towards the support of parents and extended families.
Education – Educational institutions—colleges and universities—are likely the most enduring institutions of American Methodism. Along with orphanages, colleges were the first institutions in which American Methodists invested their resources. But the truth is today, with exceptions, the schools that keep their Methodist affiliation often have little to do with the church and its mission beyond a historical statement in their charter.
Few industries will undergo as significant a transformation due to Covid-19 as secondary and higher education will in the next decade. It is likely that many churches will give up on their educational missions because the economics of our current system have become unviable. This might include our systems of theological education. And yet, studies show that educational institutions have a disproportionate impact on a young person’s future, including the development of character and values. It’s unlikely that Methodists will be able to retain an affiliation with many schools that decide to break ties with the church, and I submit that it is probably not worth the energy (or legal fees). Instead, what if Methodists started conversations around the future of denominational education like the ones currently being held at Catholic and many evangelical colleges and universities? In education, old models are dying; could Methodists be innovators in what disciple-making secondary, post-secondary, and theological education looks like in the twenty-first century? Let’s pray it is so.
Discipleship and Culture – A quick glance at the official publishing arms of United Methodism indicates that market forces play at least as significant a role as Wesleyan theology and ideals. I’ve been in conversations with pastors who note that the last truly successful denomination-wide discipleship effort happened in the 1980s. In the vacuum, churches have simply sought out the most innovative and appealing discipleship resources on the market, whether they have anything to do with Wesleyan theology or not.
Consider how foreign this concept of market-based discipleship would have been to Wesley, Asbury, and other early Methodists. To be a Methodist was to submit to a unique and particular mode of disciple formation (classes and bands); to hear and sing distinctive music of Methodism (the hymns of Charles Wesley); to hear repentance and justification preached and to practice the doctrinally unique emphasis of sanctification. Each of these distinct practices were tightly controlled through centralized publishing concerns and passed down through circuit riders and evangelists formed in these specific doctrines.
I don’t believe that a twenty-first century church could (or should) replicate an eighteenth-century discipleship process in total, but what could be and should be institutionally addressed is Methodism’s handing over of our discipleship systems to anyone with no particular heart or calling for the Wesleyan Way. Why do Methodists not have our own record label producing Wesleyan contemporary worship on par with what comes from Hillsong and Bethel? Why should we allow for such poor digital representation from the majority of our congregations when we know the present and future is online? Why do we cede so much of the theological instruction in our local congregations to writers and thinkers who, while perhaps exemplary Christians, are not promoting the distinctives of Christian perfection? These are all huge issues to consider—issues that are best addressed through institutional structures and processes that can form and shape culture for new generations.
Global Missions – It should not be forgotten that if and when the United Methodist Church does finally split after its next General Conference, there will be a considerable lost opportunity cost in terms of global missions and ministry. No one can say exactly what this cost will be, and efforts are underway to minimize the impact, but there’s no doubt that there will be good and fruitful missions currently happening around the globe that will not continue without the shared resources of the world’s largest global mainline Protestant denomination.
It’s possible, and likely, that missions will be the quickest institutional mechanism to be addressed in new expressions of Methodism, but care should be taken in the future to make sure that our global mission relentlessly aligns with our Wesleyan theological vision and values. Methodism has certainly been guilty of letting various social causes become our modus operandi over and above our call to make disciples. Of course, discipleship often overlaps with many worthy causes, and we should have feet on the ground and hands in the dirt wherever we see the Holy Spirit moving. But our history has important lessons for us to learn from those causes and institutions that have left us behind long ago.
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Methodists will not be starting any new hospitals in the U.S. anytime soon (though plenty of opportunity exists overseas for medical ministry). Most of the institutions we American Methodists started in prior years are either no longer feasible for a twenty-first century mission or far too legally complex to manage adequately. But I do not believe that we Methodists should throw up our hands and go full “Benedict Option,” either. Perhaps that day will come, but I do not think it is yet here. Spreading scriptural holiness across the land today will indeed require a fresh, imaginative breath of the Holy Spirit. And it will require Spirit-inspired institutions that concretize the dreams and visions of Wesleyans. We should learn from how institutions have failed us in the past, but we should not abandon the unique ministry we are capable of through our connectional nature and the wealth of resources at our fingertips.
A gamble on a thirty-bed medical clinic in Houston, Texas, bought at the height of a global pandemic and economic lockdown, resulted in an institution that revolutionized heart transplants and cancer care and has improved or saved the lives of untold numbers of people in its 100-plus year history. What institutions can we imagine for tomorrow—institutions that might save both body and soul all while edifying and lifting up Christ’s church for generations to come? What institutional imagination might the Holy Spirit inspire in us next?
Lane Davis is an elder in the Tennessee Conference of the United Methodist Church. He is currently a PhD student in Methodist History at Southern Methodist University. He, his wife Elissa, son Jude, and another little one on the way, live in Fort Worth, TX, where they are discipled at Aledo United Methodist Church.