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Leadership in The Salvation
Army
A Case Study in
Clericalisation
from JAC Issue #37
by
Major Harold Hill
Officers of my vintage were simply commissioned but after 1978
officers were ordained as well. What does that mean? And does
it matter? My endeavour to answer these questions led to a
four-year research project and some conclusions which I shall
attempt to summarise in this article. The answers lie at least
in part in the process of institutionalisation which affects
all enterprises, including movements of the Spirit, in the
course of which roles which begin as simply functional
gradually assume significance as status. In this The Salvation
Army has recapitulated in microcosm the history of the church
as a whole.
While the charismatic founder may be kept honest by a
closeness to the mysterium tremens et fascinans and a
single-minded commitment to a vision, the second and
subsequent generations tend to keep a closer eye on the
political implications. A Moses could exclaim, “Would that all
the Lord’s people might prophesy!” A Joshua’s instinct is to
complain, “Eldad and Medad are also prophesying,” and to urge,
“Make them stop – they’re not authorised.”
Against that trend, there has also been, especially in the
Judeo-Christian tradition, a counter-cultural, prophetic
tradition of protest against the institutions of power. Jesus
of Nazareth stood in this prophetic tradition. Jesus and the
community which grew up after his death appear to have valued
equality in contrast to the priestly hierarchies of received
religion.
There were evidently varieties of function within the early
Christian community, but not of formal status.
Division into Clerical and Lay States
Over the first few centuries, however, as the Church
institutionalised and developed structures to order its polity
and conserve its message, and as it accommodated to Roman
society and to traditional religious expectations, it
developed such distinctions, between clerics in orders and
laity.
By early in the second century the early charismatic offices
had been superseded and a three-fold structure of one bishop,
presiding over a council of presbyters and supported by
deacons was becoming common. A second factor in the
clericalisation of ministry was the adoption of the “priestly”
language, a second-century development which became entrenched
with the progressive development of the idea of the Eucharist
as sacrifice which only a priest had power to perform. With
Augustine (died 430) an “indelible character” was attributed
to priesthood. A third factor was the incorporation of church
and priesthood into Roman society and the state. From the
“Christianising” of the Empire under Theodosius in the fourth
century, it eventually came to be assumed that all people in
the state were “Christian”; by the end of the first millennium
the boundary between the world and the church was seen as
lying at ordination rather than baptism. Even from the third
century on it was apparent that all these developments had
reduced the “laity” to a passive role. We can call the
cumulative process “clericalisation”.
Reaction and Counter-reaction
Many times in
the history of the Church when there has been a renewal of
mission, some reaction against clericalism has been involved.
Usually the movements involved have either been suppressed or
have in their turn become clericalised. Monasticism was
amongst the earliest such movements, from the mid-second
century on. Originally a lay movement, it became clericised
with a caste system whereby manual labour was performed by lay
monks but clerical roles by priests.
The later
middle ages in Europe were a period of huge social and
economic change, affecting the church along with everything
else. The laity became less willing to accept a passive role
and there were many religious revivalist movements, some of
which became officially accepted while others were denounced
as heretical. Both in officially endorsed orders like the
Franciscans and in others eventually excluded like the
Waldensians, an initial all-lay ethos was eventually
clericalised, with priests or clergy coming to dominate them.
The
Reformation movements all involved a degree of rejection of
clerical superiority. Luther dismissed “characters
indelebilis ...” as “mere talk and man-made law.”
However most the reformers remained wedded to the concept of
“Christendom”, in which the State and the Church were
essentially the same thing and “the clerical office – whether
under the name of ministerium (the ministry) or
sacerdotium (the priesthood) – continued in being as
something constitutive for the existence of the Church.”
In E. L. Mascall’s words, “what Protestantism did to the
religion of Western Europe was simply to substitute a
clericalism of the Word for a clericalism of the Sacrament.”
It was the “radical reformation”, the Anabaptists and their
sectarian successors, who tried to make a fresh start and
return to the polity of the primitive church. “It was not that
the Anabaptists had no clergy; it is more accurate to say that
they had no laity.”
As marginalised and persecuted, their situation more closely
resembled that of the early Christians.
The immediate precursor of The Salvation Army was the
Methodist movement of the eighteenth century. John Wesley
unwittingly created what was virtually a parallel church
though he was a priest of the Church of England, and refused
to allow his lay preachers to administer the sacraments or
call themselves “Reverend”. After his death the preachers
claimed both rights and Methodism clericalised. However, both
traditions, the “lay” and the “clerical”, persist in Methodism
to the present day. Most of the subsequent schisms in the
movement – and most of the reunions also – have been concerned
with this polarisation.
In retrospect it may be seen that Bryan Wilson’s analysis of
the process of clericalisation in Protestant sects applies to
the broad history of the church as a whole:
What does
appear is that the dissenting movements of Protestantism,
which were lay movements, or movements which gave greater
place to laymen than the traditional churches had ever
conceded, pass, over the course of time, under the control of
full-time religious specialists.. Over time, movements which
rebel against religious specialization, against clerical
privilege and control, gradually come again under the control
of a clerical class… Professionalism is a part of the wider
social process of secular society, and so even in
anti-clerical movements professionals re-emerge. Their real
power, when they do re-emerge, however, is in their
administrative control and the fact of their full-time
involvement, and not in their liturgical functions, although
these will be regarded as the activity for which their
authority is legitimated.
The history of The Salvation Army is open to analysis in these
terms.
Beginning with the Booths
William Booth
inherited the ambiguities of Methodism. He left a Church, the
Methodist New Connection, but retained his clerical rank. He
denied any intention of founding a “sect” or denomination (“I
constantly put from me the thought of attempting the formation
of such a people”),
but ended up doing so. As Ronald Knox remarks of Zinzendorf,
“it is an old dream of the enthusiast that he can start a new
religion without starting a new denomination.”
The chief
formative influences on William and Catherine Booth were
Methodism and American Revivalism. Wesleyan influence on Booth
can be seen in his emulation of Wesley himself and in
parallels between the situation, ethos and doctrines of
Methodism and Salvationism. It can also be traced in a degree
of ambiguity about the nature or importance of ordination, in
his conviction of the importance of lay-participation, and
paradoxically, in his equally strong conviction of the value
of authoritarian rule. Herein lay the tension, still in
evidence, between the Army’s commitment to the “priesthood of
all believers” and its hierarchical structure. From the
American revivalists, such as Charles Finney, James Caughey
and Phoebe Palmer, the Booths not only learned about
evangelical methods and concluded that there was more freedom
in their use outside the control of denominational structures,
but also had confirmed their convictions both about the
importance of lay-participation and about the value of strong
government.
Booth’s
engagement with a tent mission in Mile End Waste in July 1865
is reminiscent of the Arab inviting the camel to put his nose
into the tent on a cold night – soon the camel wholly occupied
the tent. By 1867 a revivalist group drawn from a variety of
evangelical backgrounds had been transformed into a proto-sect
with its own headquarters, a number of preaching stations,
systems for processing converts and for poor relief, a
membership document, a first annual financial statement, and
paid staff as well as volunteer workers. By 1878, this mission
had evolved into a highly centralised organisation, a people
with a distinct and common identity, and its own full-time,
employed leaders, analogous to clergy (although like Wesley’s
lay-preachers, Booth’s evangelists were forbidden to style
themselves “Reverend”).
Under its new name of Salvation Army, the mission was poised
to embark on a decade or more of exponential growth. With
Divisional and Territorial Commands from 1880 it was possessed
of an episcopal hierarchy.
Clerical Roles
The clerical
class in the church has come to be associated with specific
functions – the administration of the sacraments, pastoring of
the flock, the preaching and teaching of the Word and the
government of the church. What can we say then about the roles
of Booth’s Missioners, the Evangelists, later Officers, under
these headings?
Sacraments
The monopoly
of the sacramental function became the distinctive mark of the
emergence of priesthood in Christianity. The Christian
Mission and, until 1883, the Salvation Army, practised infant
baptism and celebrated the Lord’s Supper, and it is apparent
that officials of the mission led these rites. The
discontinuance of the practice could also have implications
for the “clerical” role of officers. Booth’s explanation in
The War Cry simply said that (1) sacraments were not
essential for salvation; (2) that if he insisted on having
them there would be “grave dissensions” within the Army; (3)
that the Army was not a church; and (4) that the question
could be left until we shall have more light on the subject.
(5) In the meanwhile Salvationists were free to take the
sacrament at other churches, and (6) should feed on Jesus
continually and ensure they had been baptised with the Holy
Ghost. (7) Finally, having warned against dependence upon mere
forms, he announced a form of service for the dedication of
children.
Additional reasons subsequently offered, in addition to the
dangers of formalism and contentious Biblical hermeneutic,
have included the danger of strong drink to people converted
from drunkenness, avoidance of controversial subjects,
resistance to women administering the sacraments, the
avoidance of anything smacking of a separate priesthood and
the value of a distinctive non-sacramental witness.
David
Rightmire’s study goes behind these presenting arguments and
places the Army’s early theology in the context of Victorian
society, the Wesleyan revival and the nineteenth century
holiness movement. He makes the point that by the mid-19th
century Wesleyanism had lost touch with its founder’s
sacramental theology, maintaining the forms but subordinating
other means of grace to the Word. The American holiness
revival teaching of Caughey, Finney and Phoebe Palmer, already
mentioned, also “emphasised a pneumatological ecclesiology
that needed little continuity with historical institutions.”
Rightmire’s argument is that once the Booths’ “Holiness” or
“Second Blessing” theology was fully developed, it provided a
spiritualised substitute for sacramental theology.
It is
interesting to compare the course of The Salvation Army’s
relationship with the Church of England with that of its
Wesleyan original. Methodism grew out of the established
Church and the question was whether it could be contained.
Salvationism was an independent entity and would have had to
be grafted on to the Anglican stock – a more difficult
exercise. With Methodism, the preachers, who had not hitherto
been permitted to officiate at the sacraments, assumed this
role. Salvation Army evangelists and officers, who had enjoyed
this privilege, relinquished it.
The history of
the Salvation Army also illustrates the maxim that if the
sacraments did not exist it would be necessary to invent them,
to adapt Voltaire. Forms and ceremonies have been substituted.
The Directory or catechism for children in 1900 set out “The
Army’s Five Ordinances” as (1) The Dedication of Children, (2)
The Mercy Seat,
(3) Enrolment under the Army Flag, (4) Commissioning of
Officers and (5) Marriage according to Army rules.”
To these might be added the uniform (surely “an outward and
visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace”, as well as the
nearest the Army comes to a medium for excommunication), and
the recent practice of “installing” officers in certain
commands.
All of this
also indicates that although sacramental observances are
usually taken as the initial catalyst for the process of
clericalisation in the Church, the Army’s clericalisation
gathered momentum after their abandonment (apart from the
substitute sacraments described above), suggesting that
clericalisation is a sociological process independent of a
theological base.
Pastoring
Pastoring of
the flock was not the original function of the Christian
Missioners – they were above all itinerant evangelists. The
gradual assimilation of evangelist into pastor in the role of
the individual Salvation Army officer has paralleled the
gradual metamorphosis of the “para-church” sect into
denominational church. That trend has been accompanied by the
gradual loss of the individual and corporate sense of
responsibility of the ordinary members or soldiers to exercise
the pastoral role. Within the early Salvation Army there was
strong emphasis on the “lay”-pastorate, with the appointment
of Visitation Sergeants with pastoral responsibility. With
pastoral care undertaken by those with a more settled
existence, the Evangelists or Missioners, and subsequently the
officers, were itinerant. Itinerancy was a tradition
inherited from Methodism, with frequent changes of pastorate
for clergy, combined with the more limited role of the
evangelist. Appointments tended to be for a matter of weeks
only or months. Railton wrote that, “we refuse to allow our
officers to stay long in one place lest they or the people
should sink into the relationship of pastor and flock, and
look to their mutual enjoyment and advantage rather than to
the salvation of others…”
In time,
officers became under increasing pressure to exercise a
pastoral role in addition to the evangelical one. Bramwell
Booth’s 1899 book on officership included a section on
“Shepherds and their Flocks”.
Whatever Railton’s fear of a pastor-flock relationship
developing, it was inevitable; nurturing of new converts would
establish expectations for continuing care.
Preaching and
Teaching
Clergy have
usually assumed the magisterial role, the responsibility for
teaching, in the Church. Although the Orders and
Regulations for Officers prescribed instructing and
drilling the troops as a significant officer-role, Booth saw
preaching as the definitive clerical task (“one who had
nothing else to do but preach”)
and we have seen that in his movement there was no thought of
reserving this task to any special group. The reverse was his
intention.
It should be
noted however that whatever the theory, the Evangelists and
then the Officers became the main speakers and preachers as
time went on. A rearguard action against this practice has
been fought ever since. In 1928 Bramwell Booth wrote to an
officer in charge of a corps he had visited, advising him to,
“Rope in your own people in so far as it is at all possible to
take part in platform [i.e. preaching] work if the soldiers
and locals felt the responsibility of speaking to the people
the words of life and truth they would fit themselves for this
work. This would relieve you of some of your platform
responsibilities, and thus enable you to tackle other work.”
But many officers still jealously guard their prerogative in
this respect, to the neglect of the gifts of their soldiers.
Government and
Leadership
On the fourth
point, government, only the full-time, employed evangelists or
missioners attended the Council of War in 1878, whereas
lay-delegates had attended earlier Conferences. Murdoch avers
that this action disenfranchised the laymen of The Salvation
Army and “stripped them of the right to participate” in the
organisation’s government.
At the same time as the Mission metamorphosed into The
Salvation Army, it constitutionally reverted to Wesley’s
original Methodist model of benevolent dictatorship. The
government of the movement was clearly concentrated in the
hands of a leading group, though always as a delegated
authority derived in the end from the General himself. This
remains the case today. The role of an officer is to command,
to direct the government of the organisation at a particular
level. The post-1877 polity certainly left the way open for
the elevation of an “officer class” in the all-lay Army.
In sum, then,
of the four clerical roles of officiating at rites, pastoring,
preaching and government, it would seem that Christian
Missioners became Salvation Army officers with only the fourth
of these fields unambiguously as their largely exclusive
prerogative. Their other roles were in the process of
development – though also in the direction of a clerical
monopoly. However, Officers were not yet clergy in any
generally recognised sense at this time, any more than the
Army itself was regarded as a church.
What the
Founders Said
Here we find
an essential ambivalence as far as clericalism is concerned –
and as far as being a church is concerned. The pragmatic
origins of ministry and polity have meant that the Army has
championed the concept of the priesthood of all believers and
rejected the clerical role, while at the same time it has
claimed ministerial status for its officers whenever that has
seemed advantageous. Thus it has inherited and carried forward
the ecclesiological contradictions of Methodism referred to
earlier.
All Lay, All
Priests
Like Wesley
before him, Booth did not see his Evangelists as clergy. He
complained in 1877 that some had resigned because “they rub up
against some Baptist or Primitive preachers and get
ministerial notions.”
Railton quotes Booth, addressing young officers, as saying,
I have lived,
thank God, to witness the separation between layman and cleric
become more and more obscured, and to see Jesus Christ’s idea
of changing in a moment ignorant fishermen into fishers of men
nearer and nearer realization.
William Booth
wanted to disabuse his officers of the notion that there is
any “exclusive order of preachers” or that ministry was
confined to a particular class of individuals who constitute a
sacred order specially raised up and qualified… on the ground
of their ancestors having been specially set apart for it, and
authorised to communicate the same power to their successors,
who are, they again contend, empowered to pass on some special
virtues to those who listen to their teaching… I deny the
existence of any order exclusively possessing the right to
publish the salvation of God… I honour the Order of Preachers;
I belong to it myself… but as to his possessing any particular
grace because of his having gone
through any form of Ordination, or any other
ceremonial whatever, I think that idea is a great mistake.
And I want to say here, once and
for all, that no such notion is taught in any authorised
statement of Salvation Army doctrine or affirmed by any
responsible officer in the organisation… the duty in which I
glory is no more sacred, and only a few degrees removed in
importance, from that of the brother who opens the doors of
the Hall in which the preacher holds forth… As Soldiers of
Christ, the same duty places us all on one level.
Booth clearly rejected any apostolic succession or clerical
character as needed to authenticate his officers’ functions.
Not only were officers not “clergy” but soldiers in effect
were. In an
1898 address
he hoped that soldiers would not shirk their duty “by any talk
of not being an officer.”
You cannot say you are not
ordained. You were ordained when you signed Articles of War,
under the blessed Flag. If not, I ordain every man, woman and
child here present that has received the new life. I ordain
you now. I cannot get at you to lay my hands upon you. I
ordain you with the breath of my mouth. I tell you what your
true business in the world is, and in the name of the living
God I authorise you to go and do it. Go into all the world and
preach the gospel to every creature!
“Ministers Who
were Not Ordained”
At the same
time as we have these, and many other, very clear statements
that The Salvation Army is an essentially lay movement, we
find the growing assumption that officers do enjoy a
distinctive and special role – or status. The specialness of
the officer role was emphasised on two counts; firstly because
of the need to foster and encourage the esprit de corps
of officers in order to promote the effectiveness of the
Army’s leadership, and secondly from the desire to secure
recognition of the officers within the wider community. Both
would inevitably contribute to the process by which function
would assume status.
Although not
claiming any ordination for their officers, the Booths
regarded them as in every way equal to the clergy of other
denominations. Sandall reports a statement by William Booth,
made in 1894: “The Salvation Army is not inferior in spiritual
character to any organization in existence… We are, I
consider, equal everyway and everywhere to any other Christian
organization on the face of the earth (i) in spiritual
authority, (ii) in spiritual intelligence, (iii) in spiritual
functions. We hold ‘the keys’ as truly as any church in
existence.”
While these claims were made of the Army as a whole, the
exercise of “authority” and the holding of the “keys” could be
taken as peculiarly clerical or leadership roles. Booth was
in no doubt that the Army would rise or fall on the quality of
its leadership. His first Orders and Regulations,
written particularly for officers leading a growing movement,
noted that “The work must, of course, depend mainly upon the
officers…”
Bramwell agreed with this, writing, “Officers … they are the
spinal column of the affair and their tone and spirit is its
spinal marrow.”
In a circular
to senior commanders, William Booth spoke of the role of
officers as akin to a priesthood: “Indeed, the fact is ever
before us – like Priest, like People; like Captain, like
Corps.”
“More and more as I have wrestled with the [new] regulations
this week,” he wrote to Bramwell in 1903, “it has been borne
in upon me that it is the Officer upon whom all depends. It
has always been so. If Moses had not made a priesthood, there
would have been no Jewish nation. It was the priesthood of
the Levites which kept them alive, saved them from
their inherent rottenness… and perpetuated the law which made
them.”
Such a
statement suggests that Booth’s own views were changing.
Ervine comments that “This was a far different note from any
that he had hitherto sounded. Priests had never previously
been much esteemed by him who was more ready to admire
prophets than priests… The Soldier-Prophet was about to leave
his command to a Lawyer-Priest. A younger William Booth would
have known that this was dangerous, but Booth was old and
solitary and tired, and old men want priests more than they
want warriors.”
Robertson attributes this change to Booth’s anticipation of a
possible leadership crisis during the “period of routinisation”
by his Supplementary Deed of 1904 (which provided for the
deposition of a General adjudged unfit for office and the
election of a replacement by a High Council). “Further, he
came to the conclusion that the priesthood of all believers,
although already effectively dropped in practice, had to be
attenuated as an ideal.”
In an address
to Staff Officers, reprinted after his death, William Booth
said:
The Salvation
Army also claims possession of certain authority – authority
received from God and man adequate for the work required from
it, and equal to that of any other Christian organisation in
existence, if not superior to that of many which pass under
that name. I claim such authority for myself as an ambassador
of Christ, and I claim it also on your behalf. I claim for the
Army all the authority necessary for the ruling of its people,
their admission to its ranks or their exclusion from it… When
I am asked to state the grounds on which the Army claims
authority over the consciences and conduct of men, I reply
that we do these things not on the authority of man, or of any
outside organisation of men, but by the authority of God
Himself.
In his memoirs
Bramwell Booth echoes similar sentiments:
In this, we
humbly but firmly claim that we are in no way inferior, either
to the saints who have gone before, or – though remaining
separate from them, even as one branch in the vine is separate
from another – to the saints of the present. We, no less than
they, are called and chosen to sanctification of the Spirit
and to the inheritance of eternal life. And our officers are,
equally with them, ministers in the church of
God,
having received diversities of gifts, but the one Spirit –
endowed by His grace, assured of His guidance, confirmed by
His word, and commissioned by the Holy Ghost to represent Him
to the whole world.
In the First
World War Bramwell Booth forbade officers to volunteer for
military duty, saying:
It seems to me
that the consecration of their lives to the things of Christ,
which all our officers have made, is inconsistent with their
voluntarily drawing the sword in earthly warfare. There can be
no doubt that they are as truly ministers of Christ’s gospel
as were the apostles themselves, and as ministers of God they
are covenanted to approve themselves in patience, in
affliction… And so I say I cannot approve their taking the
sword, or any other carnal weapon.
These
examples, and many like them, would support the view that the
Army and its leaders progressively tended to claim a clerical
role and status for officers. So, we have seen that The
Salvation Army, in attempting to maintain a sectarian equality
of believers, resisted the idea that its officers were clergy
like other clergy. At the same time, partly because of the
autocratic temperament of its founder, it adopted a military,
hierarchical structure which served to expedite the process of
clericalisation.
The conditions
of officers’ service would constitute their professional
milieu in a way that could not be true of non-officer,
volunteer Salvationists. The mystique of the Call to
officership, the spiritually intensive nature of
officer-formation in training and the sessional group bonding
with peers, the extent of personal commitment involved in the
Covenant and Undertakings, the ranking system, the distinctive
functions and roles of officers and the intensity of the
all-absorbing work, together with the sense of corporate
identity and esprit de corps, gave officership a
character which could be described as clerical compared with
that of the rank and file.
This ambiguity
over the status of officers arose in part from the Methodist
theological roots, as we have noted, and in part from the fact
that traditional ecclesiastical and canonical distinctions
were of little interest or relevance. Salvationists were, as
far as they were concerned, sui generis, needing no
external ecclesiastical validation or referencing. Pragmatic
decisions beget principles. The Founders set out to do just
whatever appeared the most practical thing to do next. Rather
than intentionally taking the historic pattern of the church
as a model they fought against it as repugnant to their view
of the ministerial role of Christians in general. For all
that, they could not avoid bringing with them from their
church background ways of thinking about how the church should
be organised. The irony is that they ended up with a similar
model of clergy and laity and an episcopal system of
government under different names. It is difficult in
practice, leaving aside ecclesiastical distinctions of
legitimacy and apostolic provenance, to distinguish
officership from the clerical status in any other church.
Transitions
Sociologists
refer to the period of “routinisation”, during which initially
radical sectarian movements gradually accommodate to the world
around them, and “denominationalise”. While Robertson
considered that The Salvation Army had resisted this process
and therefore dubbed it an “established sect”,
in the longer view it may be seen that the Army in the western
world has conformed to type in this respect.
Although it
was Donald McGavran’s twentieth century phrase,
the phenomenon of “redemption and lift”, was remarked upon by
John Wesley nearly two hundred years earlier.
The Methodists
in every place grow diligent and frugal; consequently they
increase in goods. Hence they proportionately increase in
pride, in the desire of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, and
the pride of life. So although the form of religion remains,
the spirit is swiftly vanishing away…
Salvationists,
originally archetypal “working class”, have participated in
the general rise in standards of living in western countries,
with increased opportunity for education and diversified
occupations. The children and grandchildren of those who had
experienced the miracle of changing beer into furniture did
not necessarily enjoy a vital conversion experience of their
own or inherit the same evangelical imperative.
A concomitant
of this development was a change in mindset from “mission to
maintenance”; from a crusade to change the world to a
preoccupation with the interests and needs of existing
members. It is not without significance that the international
statistics for numbers of corps and officers in 2004 were
little different from those at the death of Bramwell Booth in
1929.
(The recent growth in soldiership statistics derives from a
new, third world, growth spurt, offset by steep decline in the
European homelands.) A diminution of evangelical fervour was
also matched by a decline in commitment to sectarian
“perfectionism” of the kind represented by the Army’s Wesleyan
holiness theology, and the beginnings of a more conscious
pluralism of theological outlook.
These changes
have also been reflected in a moderation of the Army’s
opposition to “the world”: only an embargo on alcohol, tobacco
and gambling survives where once wearing a feathers on ladies’
hats, make-up and jewellery, and attending dances, organised
sports events or the cinema were equally reprehensible. The
Army no longer provides an all-embracing social milieu for
many Salvationists, and the movement no longer maintains what
Bryan Wilson called “a totalitarian rather than a segmental
hold” over its members.
Higher education is no longer regarded with suspicion.
At least in
much of the “western world”, this process of routinisation
occupied perhaps the first sixty years of the 20th
century. As far as the theme of this essay is concerned, the
end result of this was that the Army became another “mainline”
denomination, in which the officers were regarded, and
regarded themselves, as clergy, and the soldiers thought of
themselves as laity. Despite a strong and continuing tradition
of soldier involvement in “the work”, the officers became the
professional religious class. Thomas O’Dea summarised the
tendency thus:
there comes
into existence a body of men for whom the clerical life offers
not simply the “religious” satisfactions of the earlier
charismatic period, but also prestige and respectability,
power and influence… and satisfactions derived from the use of
personal talents in teaching, leadership, etc. Moreover, the
maintenance of the situation in which these rewards are
forthcoming tends to become an element in the motivation of
the group.
Into the
Second Century
Although we
have observed a denominationalising tendency in the period
reviewed above, the Army’s official rhetoric remained
sectarian.
The inevitable
tectonic tension between these two continental plates moving
in opposite directions began to surface as the movement
entered its second century in the 1960’s. This again conformed
to the usual pattern of such movements in their life-cycle, as
indeed had happened with the early Church itself. A period of
consolidation and reflection begins. The movement becomes
more self-conscious, and begins to clarify and rationalise
what it had been doing, as well as adjusting to the fact that
it is now operating in a world strangely different from that
in which it had taken shape. Roger Green, referring to various
late 20th and early 21st century initiatives in Salvationist
theological discussion, comments that “these are still tenuous
efforts for a denomination yet in its primacy. The Army is
only now coming into an understanding of what it means to have
a corporate theological life.”
The Debate
As far as our theme is concerned the Army entered upon a
period of internal debate, expressed for the first time in its
history in articles and correspondence, at first in The
Officer and later in such territorial publications as
The Salvationist in the UK and Word and Deed in
USA. We can trace the coming out into the open of the
polarities, “lay”, and “clerical”, between the view that
office is simply functional and the belief that office confers
a status or character, inherited a century before from Church
history through Methodism and inherent in the Army as a
sociological and ecclesiastical phenomenon.
The debate took place in two phases. For the first twenty-five
years – roughly from 1960 to 1985 – it concerned function and
status. In the following twenty years, following the
introduction of the “ordination” of officers, this terminology
naturally shaped the arguments offered. At the risk of
caricaturing the variety of views, we can sample here only a
few of the contributions made to the debate.
As representative of the “functional” school we can take the
unambiguous statement by Australian Commissioner Hubert
Scotney:
The distinction made today between
clergy and laity does not exist in the New Testament… The
terms layman and laity (in the current usage of those words)
are completely out of character in a Salvation Army context…
It is foreign to the entire concept of Salvationism to imagine
two levels of involvement. Any distinction between officers
and soldiers is one of function rather than status.
Against that
we can cite Colonel William Clark (IHQ), who claimed that by:
a direct call
from God into the ranks of Salvation Army officership, we have
been given particular spiritual authority… Whatever our role
…happens to be for the time being… we are primarily spiritual
leaders…Our spiritual authority lies not only or chiefly in
what we do, but in what we are… Our calling is to be a certain
kind of person and not … to do a certain kind of job… The
“ordained” ministry of the Church – to which body we belong by
virtue of our calling, response, training and commissioning –
is a distinctive ministry within the body of the whole people
of God, different from that “general” ministry of the Church
which is defined in the New Testament as “the priesthood of
all believers”.
In 1978
General Arnold Brown announced that the commissioning of
officers would in future include use of the word “ordain”.
This innovation evidently passed largely unremarked until
Captain Chick Yuill of Scotland drew attention to it in 1985.
May I suggest
that we need to re-emphasise the truth that there is no real
distinction between officers and soldiers, that the difference
is simply of function… If that little word ‘ordain’ has crept
in because of a subconscious desire that other Christians
should realise that we are as ‘important’ as the clergy of
other denominations, … in the end it matters not a jot where
we stand in the estimation of any who would compile a league
table of ecclesiastical importance.
Cadet Stephen
Court of Canada took the same line:
There is no
difference between the two functions [officer and soldier],
there is no distinctive, and so there are no grounds to
justify ordination by this argument. The emphasis on
ordination and the professional nature of officership only
serves to widen the artificial gap existing between officers
and soldiers. Note I use the term “soldier” rather than the
insidious term “laity”.
He concluded
by warning against “the gradual abdication of our
characteristic birthright in ‘favour’ of a mainstream church
identity.”
Against those,
we can quote for example the following vigorous support for
ordination from a retired officer, Brigadier Bramwell
Darbyshire:
In spite of
all the stuff about the priesthood of all believers, ordained
and commissioned officers are different from non-officer
Salvationists. They are not cleverer, wiser, more loved of God
than their fellows, but they are special, set apart for Jesus
in a way that involves sacrifice and often great inconvenience
to their families… No one is more grateful for the Army’s
dedicated lay staff than this old warrior; but let’s get it
right. They may be as much involved as officers, but there is
for an officer a sacramental dimension and if we lose sight of
this the Army is finished.
Others again
used the term “ordained”, but on their own terms, as implying
only a “functional” role. Major Raymond Caddy of IHQ defended
it in these terms:
…one of its
meanings is closely tied to the idea of organisation which
underlies all military structures… means to categorise, to
place in a particular ranking… the specific ranking, then, has
something to tell us about function. …this is the
classification of people as ministers of religion… to carry
out certain roles. These duties are restricted to people of
that rank, otherwise there is no point in separating them from
the rest.
He went on to distinguish two kinds of ordination in the
Church, one of all Christians, and the other to the exercise
of certain spiritual gifts (see Romans 12, 1st Corinthians
12),
vocations given so that the Church may be governed and served…
Particular ministries are recognised and encouraged when the
Army commissions or warrants its officers and local officers.
However, every Salvationist is ordained to the greater
vocation of Christian. There is no higher calling than this.
The
debate widened to a general discussion of what
roles and functions were appropriate to an officer. These
tended to follow the culturally conditioned expectation of
clergy in general. Officers were to lead, pastor, preach,
teach and disciple, and equip the saints for ministry. Some
saw the officer as being assisted in ministry by non-officers;
others saw that the officer’s role was to assist non-officers
in their ministry. Some writers addressed officer
conditions of service, such as appointability, as the
distinctive mark of officership. A few called attention to
officers’ representative role, as head and focus of their
community of faith. Some people, while rejecting any spurious
status equivalent to priestly character for officership, felt
that an entirely functional description could not justify a
separate officer role. They therefore looked for an internal,
Salvation Army validation, a combination of the officer’s own
personal sense of calling and the objective fact that
Salvation Army officer ministry was an existing reality to
betaken into account. Major Cecil Waters urged a return to an
unabashedly Salvationist argument from simple pragmatism.
We will go on
looking for a definition of officership unless and until we
recognise that officership exists firstly as a convenience by
which we organise the Army and secondly as one function, among
many, to which we feel “called of God. [It was] impossible to
define a concept of officership which is plainly and clearly
distinct from that of soldiership. [He concluded] (a) That it
would seem that the Army needs full time workers… Most, but by
no means all, these workers are officers. (b) That we believe
we may be called to be such workers – and this call may refer
to officership (rather than employee or envoy status). (c)
That to be so called and so engaged is sufficient to sustain
our work, our spirit and our identity. I believe we need look
for nothing more
special than this.”
Official
words
Ordination
Of official
statements on this matter the first was General Brown’s
introduction of “ordination” in commissioning. The Chief of
Staff’s 1978 letter to Territorial Commanders stated:
It is the
General’s wish that a slight modification should be made to
the wording of the Dedication Service during the Commissioning
of cadets, in order to emphasise the fact that Salvation Army
officers are ordained ministers of Christ and of His Gospel.
After the cadets have made their
Affirmation of Faith, the officer conducting the Commissioning
should then say: “In accepting these pledges which you each
have made, I commission you as officers of The Salvation Army
and ordain you as ministers of His Gospel.” In countries other
than English-speaking, and where the word “ordained” has no
exact equivalent, a translation should be used which will give
the nearest possible meaning to the English-language
expression.
That the
decision did not command universal support might be suggested
by the fact that it was reviewed in 1988 and 1892, and the
rubric was eventually amended by General John Gowans. A 2002
Memo from Chief of Staff John Larsson instructed
The commissioning officer will say
to each cadet in turn: “Cadet (name): Accepting your promises
and recognising that God has called, ordained and empowered
you to be a minister of Christ and of his gospel, I commission
you an officer of The Salvation Army.”
The significant
changes here would appear to be that (1) the cadets were to be
commissioned individually rather than collectively, and (2)
“ordination” was now seen as something already done by God
rather than in this ceremony by a representative of the
organisation.
Response to the
Lima Document
In 1982 the
World Council of Churches Faith and Order Paper 111 on
Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry (Lima),
was circulated amongst churches for comment. The Salvation
Army’s response was included in Faith and Order Paper 137
of 1987, and also published by the Army itself as One
Faith,
One Church,
in 1990. While the intention had been that churches would look
for areas of agreement, the majority ended up by drawing lines
around their own particular distinctives and the result
pleased no-one. Catholics felt the document was Protestant in
emphasis; Protestants felt “left out”.
The Army
identified with Lima where it could. Its main concern
seems to have been to defend its non-sacramental stance, and
even in its response on Ministry, it appeared somewhat
preoccupied with the sacramental issue.
About the
question of how Salvation Army ministry is perceived in
relation to traditional Church belief about ordination, it
appeared to be less sensitive and therefore, missed
significant areas of difference. It was vague about the
meaning of the language of ordination, which it had recently
adopted, and confused the concept of indelible character of
orders with the Army’s own expectation that officers would
commit to life-long ministry. The Army identified with the
theology of the “radical reformation” but that it also sought
to be included in the fold of “mainstream” ecclesiology by
claiming that it was just like everyone else but with
different terminology. Or in the case of “ordination”, the
same terminology.
It concluded
that rather than “the highlighting of differences,” the Army
would prefer to see the churches demonstrating their existing
unity in mission and evangelism. It believed that differences
in faith and order in the church are issues only to
theologians, of lesser concern to lay Christians and of no
interest whatever to those outside the church.
Community in
Mission
Their work on
the Lima document evidently alerted the Salvation Army’s
leadership to its lack of a coherent ecclesiology and the
difficulties inherent in maintaining a merely reactive mode.
The book Community in
Mission, A Salvationist
Ecclesiology
was commissioned from an American officer, Major Philip
Needham, and published in 1987. Needham’s basic premise is
that “a Salvationist ecclesiology stands as a reminder to the
Church that its mission in the world is primary, and that the
life of the Church ought largely to be shaped by a basic
commitment to mission.”
His ecclesiology deals pre-eminently with the ministry of the
Army as a whole, and only inter alia with that of the
officer corps in particular.
Within the
elaboration of this theme, Needham clearly confined the
concept of “ordination” to a “functional” role within the
movement – and claimed that its significance was best
expressed in the word “commissioning”, used of both officers
and soldiers taking up specific tasks, while “ordination” was
commonly used in connection with “ministries that require
theological training, specialised skills, pastoral leadership
and a full-time vocation…”
The work of
the International Doctrine Council
The Doctrine
Council, inaugurated in 1931, has been responsible for
producing successive editions of the Handbook of Doctrine.
None of the pre-1969 editions mentioned the doctrine of
the Church, a concept without interest to the early Salvation
Army, and even from 1969 this was discussed only under
Trinitarian doctrine, as a Ministry of the Holy Spirit. No
reference was made to a “separated ministry”. The 1998
edition, Salvation Story, explains that “One
very important change since the Eleven Articles were
formulated and adopted is the evolution of the Movement from
an agency for evangelism to a church, an evangelistic body of
believers who worship, fellowship, minister and are in mission
together.”
With reference
to Ministry, a paragraph explains that all Christians are
“ministers or servants of the gospel… share in the priestly
ministry… In that sense there is no separated ministry.”
However the section goes on to say:
Within that
common calling, some are called by Christ to be full-time
office-holders within the Church. Their calling is affirmed by
the gift of the Holy Spirit, the recognition of the Christian
community and their commissioning – ordination – for service.
Their function is to focus the mission and ministry of the
whole Church so that its members are held faithful to their
calling.
They serve their fellow ministers
as visionaries who point the way to mission, as pastors who
minister to the priests when they are hurt or overcome, as
enablers who equip others for mission, as spiritual leaders.
Like
Community in Mission, this does establish clearly the
principle that the ministry of particular persons arises out
of the ministry of the whole Christian community, and attempts
to explain and justify how this happens in practice.
The Council’s
most recent work is Servants Together, arising
from the 1995 International Council of Leaders’ recommendation
that the roles of officers and soldiers be defined and a
theology of “the priesthood of all believers” be developed to
encourage greater involvement in ministry (for example,
spiritual leadership, leadership in general), worship, service
and evangelism.
The book for the first time puts the Army’s ecclesiology in
its historical context. It clearly establishes the principle
that there is no distinction in status between soldiers and
officers, although it then struggles to establish what is
unique about the role of the officer. Significantly, and
indicative of the Army’s growing pluralism, it does allow that
a variety of opinion is held on the subject. As an official
response to the debate of the previous forty years, Servants
Together entrenches the Army’s traditional ambiguity about the
nature of its “separated ministry”.
If we were to
attempt to sum up the progression to be found through the
sequence beginning with the introduction of ordination in 1978
and culminating in the publication of Servants Together
in 2000, at the risk of over-simplification we might suggest
that in the 1970’s the pendulum had swung as far as it could
in the direction of a status for officers, and that the
subsequent works show a move to correct an imbalance and
restore a functional point of view – while retaining the
movement’s
traditional ambiguity about the question.
Officers who may
not be officers
The ambiguity
about the status of officers – whether they are clerical or
lay – has further implications for Salvationists who have
performed “officer” functions without being accorded full
officer status. These include not only non-commissioned and
warranted ranks and soldiers, but more surprisingly the women
officers, particularly the married women, of the Army.
An officer
by any other name…
In every army
in the world, it is the non-commissioned officers, the NCOs,
who see themselves as the real leaders of the army. The
Salvation Army’s unpaid, volunteer “local officers”,
originally the “elders” of the Christian Mission, evolved to
become a paid, full-time parallel structure to officership.
From 1893, some were appointed as “Envoys”, equivalent to
Methodist local preachers on a circuit, and from the 1930’s
these sometimes acted as Corps commanding officers. By the
1940’s these voluntary workers were supplemented by full-time
paid Envoys who held officer appointments in both corps and
social work but without officer training or commission.
Finally, by the 1960’s some were warranted as “Auxiliary
Captains”, working under officer conditions but still without
officer status, though some later went on to hold substantive
rank. The phenomenon of people doing identical work but
accorded differing status is fraught with inequities and runs
counter to the principle that officership is simply
functional.
Although we
have referred to the trend for officers to become clergy and
soldiers to think of themselves as laity, there has always
been a counter-movement, a consistent tradition of soldier
initiative and participation in the Army’s work. There has
always been some tension between the view that soldiers are
“cannon-fodder”, with lives co-extensive with Army programmes,
and the belief that soldiers are the front line of evangelism
in the world, engaged in real “full-time service”, and
to be resourced by officers rather than used. The former
approach is always a danger in a clericalising context.
In the
“Western world” Army, the second half of the twentieth century
saw some attempt to accommodate to the more democratic temper
of the times with some consultative machinery on both the
local level, with Corps Councils, and territorial level, with
a variety of “laymen’s advisory” groups. It is interesting
that General Clarence Wiseman, an initiator of the latter, had
second thoughts on theological grounds – “to have segregated
groupings is really in violation of the concept of the
priesthood of all believers… thereafter Officers came
officially on to the [Canadian] ACSAL.”
A growing late
twentieth century trend has been the employment of soldiers in
ministry roles – as youth workers, pastoral workers and corps
leaders, as well as in social work and administrative roles.
This has been particularly the case in western countries with
declining officer strength and has provoked further debate
about the respective roles and status of officers and
soldiers. This has paralleled a similar controversy in the
Roman Catholic and some other churches.
The difference between the Church and The Salvation Army lies
in the fact that the Army does not in theory reserve spiritual
ministry and leadership roles for a sacerdotal class. The
similarity lies in the fact that in practice, because of its
hierarchical structure, the Army has tended to behave in the
same way as the Church, and change in this area therefore
occasions similar tensions.
A Monstrous Regiment of Women
If a question
is whether Salvation Army officers are, or are not, clergy,
the question may have even more point in the case of women
officers, given that ordination of women was not generally
accepted in the 19th century. Equality of the sexes has always
been one of the Army’s boasts. “In the Army,” wrote Florence
Booth, “we know no distinction, because of sex, which is
calculated to limit either a woman’s influence or her
authority, or her opportunity to serve, by sacrifice, the
Kingdom
of God.”
Over many
years, Salvationists regarded the struggles of other
denominations over this question with a certain smugness, not
always justified, and on two grounds. The first was
theological, in that Salvation Army commentators did not
always understand the difference between involvement, even
leadership, in ministry and a claim to Christian “priesthood”.
The second reason for some modesty on the question is that the
Army’s practice has not always matched its precepts. In fact,
over much of its history the Army appeared to retreat from its
early promise of gender equality. Single women officers were
disadvantaged in comparison to their male peers; married women
found their officership merged with and subordinated to that
of their husbands.
The reason for
this was probably simply male chauvinism and the increasing
conservatism of a movement institutionalising and tending to
be on the defensive. It might be suggested that this touches
on our clericalising theme as well. Whatever the Army’s
rhetoric, the men thought of themselves as clergy, and in the
world to which the Army was accommodating it was not yet
trendy to think of the women as clergy as well. While the
stand taken by the Booths was ground-breaking in the
nineteenth century, they found it difficult to apply the
principle of gender equality across the board, quite naturally
because they were prisoners of their own times and
assumptions. Theological principles are not easily imposed on
resistant cultural norms. Andrew Mark Eason’s Women in
God’s Army explores and analyses the cultural and
theological foundations upon which the organisation was
established. Reflecting views that were similar to those of
their male counterparts, most Army women espoused beliefs and
accepted roles that were incompatible with a principle of
sexual equality. A female officer’s moral and spiritual
functions in the home, combined with her other domestic tasks,
either called into question or placed constraints upon her
public ministry… Within the public realm, a married or single
female officer was usually confined to responsibilities
consistent with the notion of sexual difference. She was
encouraged to possess a femininity defined in terms of
self-sacrifice, weakness, dependency and emotion. This
construction of womanhood allowed women to challenge sinners
publicly from the platform or engage in social work, but their
overall ministry remained a modest one… Her ideal role was one
of service and submission rather than leadership and
authority.
The Salvation Army, having in some senses pioneered equality,
evidently lost its momentum fairly early in its history, while
continuing to believe its own rhetoric. It has only recently
begun to address the issues again, firstly as a result of the
work of a commission established by General Eva Burrows and
its recommendations as implemented by General Paul Rader in
the 1990’s, and secondly as an outcome of the International
Commission on Officership, under General John Gowans.
The International Commission on Officership
General Paul
Rader set up an International Commission on Officership, on
the recommendation of the 1998 International Conference of
Leaders held in Melbourne. Its purpose was “to review all
aspects of the concept of officership in the light of the
contemporary situation and its challenges, with a view to
introducing a greater measure of flexibility” into officer
service.
Most of the
recommendations deal with “officer conditions”. To that extent
the commission was a response to the ways in which the
original expectations of both the officers and the Army as a
whole have drifted out of synch with the changing times and
world-view of newer generations. However, the findings of this
commission and ensuing changes also bear upon the matters at
the heart of this paper – the character of officership, and
the question of whether officership is perceived as a
functional role or a clerical status.
Of the matters
traced in this paper, some recommendations had to do with the
role of women and the equality of their status with that of
men officers in the matter of allowances, women’s appointments
and the need for gender balance on Boards and Councils. These
largely affirmed, furthered and encouraged reforms already in
train. Only with local, territorial exploration, and will to
progress, will changes be made.
Secondly, some
recommendations bore directly on the status-function dichotomy
we have observed through the Army’s (and the Church’s)
history. Under this heading we could place those referring to
Covenant and Undertakings, open-ended or short-term
commissions, diverse models of spiritual leadership and
tent-making ministry.
Concerning the
status of officership there was an inherent tension between
two of the Commission’s terms of Reference: to strengthen the
ideal of life-time service and to explore the possibilities of
short-term service. The first would shore up the “clerical”
assumptions behind officership; the second would permit a
greater degree of flexibility based on an “all-lay” ethos.
General Gowans opted for the former, perpetuating the two-tier
model, both tiers performing the same ministry roles but only
one with the status of officership, with Lieutenant becoming a
warranted rank to replace those of Envoy and Auxiliary
Captain. Gowans was unable to commit the Army to a solely
“functional” model, and the movement continues to try to have
it both ways.
The Commission
was not set up to address the issue of clericalisation, so it
is not surprising that it did not resolve the tensions between
The Salvation Army’s theology and its ecclesiology apparent
throughout its history. It was intended to suggest solutions
to practical, organisational problems arising from the
tensions between an institutional structure, its evolving
constituents and its ever changing milieu. In particular, it
sought to modify those service conditions which were bringing
pressure to bear on officers and making it harder to recruit
and retain officers in some territories. However, those
conditions and tensions are to some extent the result of and
inseparable from the process we have described as
clericalisation. Pragmatic rejigging of regulations without
recognising and adequately taking into account the underlying
sociological and ecclesiological processes involved, is
dealing with symptoms without addressing causes. Such measures
may meet the need of the hour, or of a decade or two, but do
not go far enough to help regroup the Army for the battles of
the coming century.
Conclusions
The Salvation
Army had three options regarding clerical status:
1. There
are priests/clerics/people in orders in the Church, with a
status distinct from that of the laity, but we do not
have them in The Salvation Army.
This would
mean The Salvation Army’s acceptance of an “all lay" status
for its soldiers and officers and a second class clergy status
for its officers, acknowledging itself to be something like an
order or an ecclesiola in ecclesia rather than a
“church” or “denomination”. For Booth it was not enough that
his officers should be regarded as Deacons and Deaconesses,
members of an inferior order.
2. There
are priests/clerics/people in orders in the Church, and we
do have them as officers in The Salvation Army.
The adoption
of “ordination” by Arnold Brown, and the claim that the Army’s
commissioning had always been equivalent to ordination,
amounted to this position. This seemed to be an attempt to
endorse officially what Salvationists had come to accept in
practice over many years, without being very clear about what
was meant by it. The confusion that has grown up on this issue
within The Salvation Army is, as has been suggested, partly a
result of ambiguity about church order inherited from
Methodism, and partly from a desire to be accepted by other
Christian denominations as one of them.
3. There
are no priests/clerics/orders in the Church, and The
Salvation Army does not aspire to any. All Christians
are “lay”, in the sense that all belong to the people of God,
without distinction of status.
Booth in fact
made it clear on more than one occasion that this was his
theoretical position; his theology required it. However, the
Army’s ecclesiology was shaped instead by Booth’s autocratic
temperament, the need for organisation, the twin demons of
militarism and bureaucracy, the susceptibility of human nature
to pride and ambition, along with historically conditioned
expectations. All these meant that the leadership function, as
always, appropriated to itself a dominant role and assumed a
regular status. The difficulty lies in the tension between the
Salvation Army’s hierarchical institutional structure and the
“Priesthood of all Believers” ethos inherited from its radical
Protestant antecedents. In a word, The Salvation Army has “clericalised”.
I suggest that
the tendency to clericalisation has had two related adverse
effects on the Church, and, on The Salvation Army.
§
Firstly, clericalism fosters a spirit incompatible with the
“servanthood” Jesus taught and modelled; it is inimical to the
kind of community Jesus appeared to call together.
§
Secondly, clericalisation by concentrating power and influence
in the hands of a minority, disempowers the great majority of
members of the Church. It can therefore diminish the Church’s
effectiveness in its mission of evangelising and serving the
world. It might be possible in fact to argue that the
effectiveness of function is in inverse proportion to status
claimed.
How might
the effect of clericalisation be moderated? We might
consider this question under three headings, concerning
firstly the vocation of the officer as an individual, secondly
the role of the officer, and thirdly the relationship of the
officer to the organisation.
1. The
Officer’s Vocation
Over the years
the Reformation concept of all believers having a calling has
been narrowed to a clerical focus, into which the Army has
bought. A newer generation is less willing to accept this. To
maintain officer recruitment the Army therefore has a choice
of what in the Catholic Church is called the “restorationist
agenda”, attempting to set the clock back, and emphasising the
status of officership, or the alternative is to give full
value to the vocation of officership as one ministry option
without, by implication, devaluing other callings.
2. The
Officer’s Roles in the Organisation
The debate
referred to already and the book, Servants Together
show that a variety of attempts to define the officer role
over against that of soldiers all came to grief over the basic
presupposition, derived from our rejection of any hint of
sacerdotalism, that there was nothing done by an officer that
could not be done by a soldier. It is necessary to fall back
on Cecil Waters’ dictum that officership is simply the way in
which we choose to organise the Army; it has no sacred
dimension in itself. It is about leadership.
Given the
military metaphor on which the Army is structured, and the
necessity of leadership in any human endeavour, it is
necessary to ask how we can ensure leadership without the
abuse of power to which a hierarchical system is especially
vulnerable. Without structural safeguards, all talk of
“servant leadership” too easily becomes an instrument of
spiritual abuse; systemic privilege and power must be
circumscribed. It is true, however, that servant-leader
behaviour flows only from servant-leader attitudes, and
attitudes are notoriously unamenable to legislation. They have
to be caught as well as taught, by the example of what Paul
called “working together”, by way of contrast with “ruling
over”.
Both structural and attitudinal change is
required for this to happen.
3. The
Officer’s Covenant and Undertakings
The
Undertakings signed by the officer commit the
individual to a number of conditions intended to ensure his or
her full availability to the service, equivalent for example
to celibacy for the Catholic priesthood. I would argue that
the conditions of officer service have helped create status,
in so far as they have set officers apart from other
Salvationists. We have seen that this was deliberately
fostered, along with all the other devices used to create
morale and esprit de corps. In my view this has now
become counterproductive, in that these conditions no longer
serve that purpose for people who are already officers and
make more difficult the recruitment of their replacements.
The other
significance of the Undertakings is that with the officer’s
explicit renunciation of any legal claim to remuneration or
other benefits of employed status, they are the cornerstone of
the Army’s sharing the “employed by God” status enjoyed by the
clergy of most churches. We have seen that this has until now
served to safeguard the Army against legal action by its
officers. However, it is an anachronism left over from the
Theodosian polity of Christendom, and coming under increasing
pressure in secular societies.
Rather than
trying to hang on to a soi disant clerical status which
is irrelevant to the needs of the modern world, we could
accept that officers are employees, their covenant no
different from that of soldiers in the Army’s service. At the
same time, we could accord officer rank to anyone in a
leadership roles normally exercised by an officer. This
rationalisation would end the two-tier structure whereby some
officers are more equal than others and the anomaly whereby a
“mere” soldier can be the leader and focal representative of
the Army in a whole community. Rank and status would lose
their pseudo-theological rationale.
Leadership is
indispensable to the effectiveness of a movement. It is not
suggested that structure be abolished; the nature of human
affairs is that structures will happen anyway, and their
having some continuity, accountability and legitimacy may be
necessary to help mitigate the effect of unrestrained personal
power. As O’Dea says, “charismatic authority is inherently
unstable and… its transformation into institutionalised
leadership is necessary for the survival of the group.”
But if institutionalisation is inevitable, the prophetic
critique, the Reformation’s ecclesia semper reformanda,
is equally necessary. This section of the Conclusion has
attempted to propose some small changes in how the vocation of
officership is viewed, in how the role of officership is
expressed and in the conditions of officer-service, all with a
view to moderating the clericalist tendency. Such
comparatively minor modifications to Salvationist culture,
some structural, some attitudinal, might at least contribute
to the process of re-founding, necessary to the future of The
Salvation Army.
However, these
suggested changes do not amount to any more than “tinkering”,
while it may be that the challenges facing the Church today
are of the same order as the implications of global warming
for the environment.
Postlogue
The range of ways in which The Salvation Army
in the West is attempting to come to terms with post-modern
society could be compared with various contemporary trends in
motor car design. At one end of the spectrum there are those
manufacturers fashionably “retro” in style, deliberately
evoking the design cues of long-past glory days as a market
ploy for the present but technologically thoroughly advanced –
the recent S-type Jaguar, harking back to the classic Mark II
of the 1960’s would be a prime example. At the other end of
the spectrum is the handful of curious “green” hybrid
petrol-electric or hydrogen-powered vehicles, showing that
manufacturers are trying to plan ahead for the day the oil
runs out. And in between, the majority of the industry
continues to make incremental model changes from year to year
as fashion dictates in the hope of improving their market
share.
Likewise, in
the Salvation Army, there are the “retros” who seek to
reawaken the radical passion of the 1880’s – witness an
“Army-barmy” website, a “War College” in Vancouver, an on-line
Journal of Aggressive Christianity, a fashion for
“Roots” conventions, a growing network of “614” communities.
Such activists have been described as “neo-primitive
salvationists”
At the other
end of the spectrum there is the secret army of those who have
gone AWOL, of those who would prefer to disavow the whole
military metaphor as inimical to the spirit of the age, for
whom every convention is up for grabs and every received truth
open to re-negotiation; who believe that the “oil is running
out” for the institutional church. They are of that great
company from every denomination who have taken their faith
with them when they have left the church.
Many are “church-burnt” and are unlikely to return to the
ranks under existing conditions. They nevertheless represent
enormous potential for some future form of the Church, because
they are attempting to work out in practice what it means to
be Christian in a secular society without any of the
traditional supports or conventions, or are in some cases
involved in new, experimental forms of Christian community or
‘emergent church’. Behind the lines is always a dangerous
place to do the fighting, and casualties are likely to be
high.
And in
between, the majority of Salvation Army units try to maintain
market share, sometimes by soldiering on and trying to hold
the line against change, and sometimes by borrowing whatever
seems to be working somewhere else – usually from some
fashionable US megachurch, or trying to implement the current
gospel of “church growth” or “natural church growth” – or
attempting to become a generic “community church”.
Despite huge effort and some outstanding successes, they tend
in the main to be either just holding their ground or are
retreating. The casualties are high here too.
The kind of
leadership or officership required by each of these models is
likely to differ markedly. For the third of these models the
present conception of officership could continue to do duty,
still with its tension and ambiguity on the question of status
and function. However, retaining such a theological hybrid
may continue to give rise to the same kinds of inconsistency
and inequity we have observed in the past, and limit the
ability of the Army to harness fully the resources of its
non-officer personnel. The neo-primitive Salvationists, on
the other hand, might just possibly stake out the original
conception of a “lay” Salvation Army and, for the time being
at least, resist the process of clericalisation. Status is of
less significance in the trenches than on the parade ground.
The “Underground Army” is unlikely to have officers of any
kind, and be less interested in questions of accountability or
apostolicity.
In these days
of exponential change, when a cultural generation in the West
is reckoned at less than seven years, it would be foolish to
assume that the present fragmentation and individualism
experienced in western life, including religious life, will
not swing back towards a desperate search for certainty and
authority, for which a restorationist theology, or perhaps
neo-primitive Salvationism, might be tailor-made. But there is
also the possibility that only the underground church will
survive the coming storm.
If we recall
that almost every revival of Christian religion in the past
has involved a reaction against priestly presumption and a
renewal of lay power and activity, it may be that the
Salvation Army’s best hope is to rediscover this aspect of its
original genius. This is the age of irregulars, not of parade
grounds or set piece battles. Like William Booth, one hundred
and forty years ago, it would be necessary for The Salvation
Army to admit that it did not know where it was going, but
that would not matter. The institutional Church always seems
to be bound by the answers to the previous age’s questions. It
might be better, David Pawson’s words, to “find out what the
Holy Spirit is doing and join in.”
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