Rev Moore Book

For an unclear reason, I've taken a liking to recent Russell Moore podcasts.  He interviews a variety of people whose work I read, often in The Atlantic, where his articles also appear.  On a recent Atlantic Festival, he was the one being interviewed.  While I thought he did better as the interviewer, he discussed his latest book, Losing our Religion.  It was something I wanted to read, in part because I could relate not only to its title but its subject as he discussed it, and the insight of the writer.  After the Atlantic Festival, I searched my local library holdings, found it at another branch and our library system, and put a hold on it.  To my surprise, even as a new book by a popular author with some recent publicity, the library retrieved it for me in three days.  It took about a week to read.

Rev. Moore has an interesting background with occasional parallels to my own, which may be why I find his media presence so compelling.  He was raised on the Gulf Coast of Mississippi, Southern Baptist imprinting which remains.  His life and childhood began long after American Civil Rights laws integrated workplaces, schools, and public accommodations, though with a previous generation that preferred that previous time, maintaining some of it in his religion's ideology and even current practices.  As a teen, he was very much part of their equivalent of the USY Clique, engaged in the activities that the Church provided.  He committed himself to studying for the ministry, though he never really fit the model of a Church Centered person that Stephen Covey described in so demeaning a way in his 7 Habits bestseller.  Russell, which is what I will now call him, attended one of his state's universities, then one of his religion's seminaries for both ordination and PhD.  He bridged several roles, preacher, scholar, advocate.  But he also seemed committed to his own independence of mind and speaking what he believed to be truth even when leadership would not receive the message in the generous way the messages were intended.  Very much the opposite of Covey's description of Church Centered individuals who salute and do what their pastors tell them to do and believe what their pastors tell them to believe.

After time on the pulpit and as seminary faculty, he accepted a role with the Southern Baptist Convention as their interface, though not exactly scripted spokesman, to the general public.  And there our parallels, and also diversions, with my own Jewish tradition begin.  The central umbrella group does not always reflect the sentiments of the constituency, which can never be unanimous.  The parent organizations, whether the Southern Baptist Convention or the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, the umbrella of Conservative Jewish Synagogues and its constituents, has an interest in not only setting policy for its religion but exerting a certain discipline through a blend of authority and entitlement.  And when their public resists, the recourse of the individual members is to vote with their feet.  There are other places to go, or sometimes just disaffiliating without an alternative destination is what the disgruntled former members choose.  The religion parent has its metrics.  They can count people.  They can count congregations.  They can count money.  They can count trends in their seminary enrollments.  As in my medical world, you can only improve what you can measure.

And like the United Synagogue or its Rabbinical Assembly division, the Southern Baptists found a gap between their desire to have membership defer to the demands of the clergy and the willingness of the people to accept those orders.  In Conservative Judaism, that focal point was intermarriage, addressed in the 1960s as various forms of shunning.  For the Baptists, that focal point was expansion of rights, even fundamental respect for, groups that had previously accepted their subordinate places but no longer do.  While Russell grew up in an age when civil rights law was generally obeyed and women could become respected members of their medical, legal, scientific, and religious communities, the leadership of his religion was scripted in a much different tradition.  They did not have to be respectful of racial minorities, minority political parties in their communities, or even the talents of their own women.  And they have the organizational authority to mold it as they wish, even if it becomes smaller.

My Conservative Jews responded to their attrition differently than Russell's Southern Baptists.  Yet they have the same dilemma, where to cede to popular sentiment and where to stand by principles, or sometimes opportunities, even if negative organizational consequences.  For the Baptists, along comes a political savior, a wretched individual, but one who when given power will protect the racism and misogyny of established tradition.  And those who defy the political protector, even if protecting the wrong things, will be shunned, even excommunicated.  And so Russell, a devoted member of their tribe, a man trained in the fundamental theology of Christ and the social needs of the organization, found himself defending not only his own beliefs, but the doctrines of the Church which the leadership had assaulted through misconduct.  You can't fight City Hall usually means acceding to more powerful forces for most, but relocating for some.  Russell held his ground.  His talent allowed him to express himself in his podcasts, articles, and now a book.

And what the book instills, or at least my read and generalization, is that organizations whose people of authority debase it never really lose the merit that underlies their creation.  Evangelical Christianity still seeks to bring out the good in people even when their top brass act in their most hypocritical way.  Conservative Judaism protects our traditions and reconciles with our participation in the secular world even when the Rabbis' litmus tests prove destructive. True, even as I personally shifted in the direction of Orthodox.  The Catholic Church, for all its detestable activities through history to this day, still sponsors educational institutions, art, premier medical centers, including places where I am proud to have studied and worked.  The contemporary Republican Party with its allegiance to a blight of an individual still advocates for its share of laudable initiatives like patriotism, individual initiative, and centrality of our family units. But I still vote Democratic, which has better appeal amid its liabilities. He advocates expressing disapproval of the ethically wrong elements like racism but protection of the redeeming elements like the messages of Scripture.  And sometimes advocating for the good requires some blend of keeping your distance but keeping forums of expression available.  That's what Russell seems to have done.  That's why his work connects, even though our theology differs considerably.