The Invention of the Emerging Church Movement

[A short version of this essay was originally posted by The Religious Studies Project.]

Frequently, for social scientists, our study subjects mess with our categories. We propose and define a term; ethnographic informants reject it or defy its boundaries. We delineate criteria; collaborators don’t pay much attention. The connection between empirical description and secondary scholarly categorical construction is sometimes fraught with ambiguity and difficulty.

Such is the case of the Emerging Church Movement (ECM) or phenomenon—for lack of better terms—that has recently provided a delightful conjoining of two of my interests: (i) contemporary evangelicalism and (ii) the study of scholarly taxonomic systems. Religious people incessantly challenge our taxonomies. Those people we’ve marked out as or deemed religious tend to, in varying degrees, refuse our categories, meaning that our category construction must often be reactive to activities occurring on the ground (i.e., anomalies, exceptions, extremities, flukes, etc.), things that may actually prove to be more normative than they did at first glance. And for good reason, this constant back and forth. Fields of study dedicated to a form of serious empiricism—the study of what can be observed, recorded, and compared—ought to take on a form of epistemic humility in the realization that categories, while seductive, productive, and sometimes retaining a high degree of explanatory, elucidative power, are ultimately constructs, and more or less useful ones at that. It follows that constructs may be applied and discarded, with varying degrees of ease, per cultural context, historical era, or social situation. In other words, it’s important to point out that scholarly taxonomies, posturing themselves as durable and authoritative, get published in monographs and journal articles and give off reified impressions of finality. Our classifying work, then, does something; our definitions and labels objectify (and sometimes legitimate), influence, and perhaps structure activities in the field.

Gladys Ganiel and Gerardo Marti have done a masterful job in the application of one particularly controversial descriptor, the ECM (correlate terms include the gerunds and adjectives emerging, emergent, and/or emergence in conjunction with a noun such as church, evangelicalism, Christianity, and/or conversation). In the following, I’ll discuss both Ganiel’s informative interview and her and Marti’s recent book, The Deconstructed Church: Understanding Emergence Christianity (OUP 2014), purposefully conflating the two (but also recognizing that semi-structured interview recordings and book-length manuscripts are disparate academic artifacts). Ganiel’s informative interview offers a helpful distillation of some of the monograph’s main themes. While a growing number of book reviews and symposiums have highlighted strengths and weaknesses of The Deconstructed Church, in this piece I’d like to focus instead on the authors’ roles in the employing of a set of labels or categories (i.e., “the ECM,” emergence, etc.) to a particular set of social, cultural, and religious activities occurring in the late-modern West.

To get right to it: What happens when a scholar employs a term that intended constituents reject or resist? What are the implications of appropriating a confessionally derived, emic term to somewhat disparate groupings of emerging rituals, philosophies, and theologies? What happens if the positing of an umbrella category not only consolidates and categorizes but essentializes and homogenizes behavior on the ground rather than elucidate it? What are the politics of etic term formulation and emic self-application or adoption? I’ve raised this issue in critique of a recent book on global “fundamentalism,” but I think the same tensions are particularly relevant to the case of the ECM. A brief look at some of the discourses involved in category construction, on behalf of both social scientific fieldworkers and informants in the field, will reveal some of the tensions that I have in mind.

Before looking at Marti and Ganiel’s definitional work and informants’ consistent resistance, however, it might help to consider what exactly terms like “the ECM” are seeking to describe. According to one of Marti and Ganiel’s informants, the ECM is “Christianity for people who don’t like Christianity” (7). The movement—assuming for a moment that it constitutes such an entity—arose in the 1990s in a series of critiques of popular evangelical subcultures, ecclesiology, and theology. Marti and Ganiel define Emerging Christians as a particular group “sharing a religious orientation built on a continual practice of deconstruction” and characterize the ECM as “an institutionalizing structure, made up of a package of beliefs, practices, and identities that are continually deconstructed and reframed by the religious institutional entrepreneurs who drive the movement and seek to resist its institutionalization” (25-26). Other social scientists have qualified the phenomena as consisting of (post- or quasi-) evangelical discontents who, experiencing a “severe disenchantment” with broader evangelicalism, engage in a particularly intentional movement of religio-cultural critique (Bielo 2011, 5-6), or as a do-it-yourself, postmodern, inclusive, grassroots, anti-institutional force (Packard 2012). Individuals engaging in these conversations of inevitably structuring, institutional resistance to institution itself often describe themselves as undergoing processes of de-churching (i.e., as de-churched; Packard 2012) or de-conversion (Bielo 2011). Much more might be said about the people who identify through non- or anti-identification maneuvers along these lines. But what I find especially interesting is the secondary, scholarly work that goes into proposing an authoritative definition and subsequent definitional criteria and then determining, via elaborated definitional grids, who counts as part of the proposed order.

Marti and Ganiel, to be sure, are well aware of the issues involved in the positing and defending of secondary taxonomies. “In attempting a social scientific analysis,” the authors clarify early in the introduction to The Deconstructed Church, “we acknowledge that we focus on a set of groups that resist definition.” Such resistance, they continue, is at times even “passionate and obsessive” (5). Few dialogical insiders, further, are willing to define whatever it is that the moniker “ECM” attempts to delineate, as its diverse constituents embrace irony and contradiction and lack “systematic coherence” (5). In fact, “avoiding labels is part of avoiding stigma” and even socio-cultural identities based in rejection of labels might indeed constitute a group identity if enough persons coalesce within and around a similar critical stance. All of this strategic secondary work of naming and defining seems justified, at least to a point. I’d argue, recalling Jonathan Z. Smith, that the job of the scholar is to produce and defend illustrative, second-order, taxonomic terms; classifying for reasons of elucidation and illumination is at the heart of the academic and religious studies endeavor (Smith 1982).

But regardless of the ECM’s amorphous and messy self-descriptions, such ambiguity does not dissuade Marti and Ganiel from formulating a definition. Instead, “rather than noting its ‘anti-institutional’ orientation and succumbing to a hopeless lack of definition,” the scholars delineate not only a definition but a multiple-part characterization of (or criteria list for) the entity (for lists of qualifying attributes or characteristics, see Marti and Ganiel 2014, 29-30; Packard 2012, 7-10, 145-165; Bielo 2011, 10-16). The ECM, then, as a nebulous “congregational movement” (55-56), mostly resists insider definitional clarification even though, as Bielo demonstrates, “The Emerging Church” label itself has emic—not etic—origins. Even though social scientists employ the term, Bielo considers its dubiousness. “The [‘Emerging Church’] label itself is increasingly of little interest to adherents as a meaningful self-identifier,” he writes, “but the movement it was intended to capture continues to thrive” (2011, 5). Here we witness the categorical resistance alluded to prior, followed abruptly by a deliberate scholarly adoption or appropriation of the term. Bielo’s strategy, along with those of social scientists to follow, is a secondary maneuver; theological terms become academically productive and useful as they move from native to exterior domains.

Late-modern informants well versed in postmodern, anti-essentialist philosophy and post-colonial theologies don’t often like labels. Ascribing to a particular category is not simply a theological choice made in some imaginary free market arena of American spirituality; self-identifying is a politically laden and significant act, a tactic that requires potential constituents to make close consideration of the implications that aligning with a certain collective will have (and especially a non-traditional, boundary pushing, and theologically suspect one, according to some sectors of evangelicalism). One of Marti and Ganiel’s informants tellingly notes that to “out myself as an emergent church member would be a very big no-no” (2014, 75). To utilize social-anthropologist Mary Douglas’s (1980 [1966]) concept of purity and danger, the ECM and its terminological correlates have been successfully dirtied or marked as polluting by more traditional evangelical writers and speakers who see it as their task to police the boundaries of established evangelical orthodoxies, thereby purifying contagions from its ranks. The ECM label, marked as a threat to existing denominational orthodoxies, is cast as dangerous and suspect. Thus one prominent figure involved in the theological discussions under question, Denver-area minister Nadia Bolz-Weber, has recently made it clear that the emerging qualification is “not one that I’m comfortable with any more.” “I don’t think it’s useful,” she reflected in a recent public talk. Here we witness emic rejection and subsequent etic adoption, a veritable domain switch in a terminological sense.

“Invention,” a word I used in the title of this response, is surely too strong of an action word to use in this case. But the ECM is nonetheless a thoroughly problematic category. Not many people, if we take the existing works on the phenomenon as standard, self-identify with or see as meaningful proposed (i.e., adopted/adapted) scholarly descriptive terms. The name has little to no value to those individuals associated with strands of criteria the definitions elaborate. Beyond confessional rejection, scholars themselves disagree on what criteria ought to be included under the banner term; Marti and Ganiel critique Bielo and Packard’s previous works for what they consider to be conceptual errors, including problems of definitional inclusion and exclusion (e.g., 2014, 138). The “ECM” term is troublesome, certainly, but is it useless? Is it vacuous? I’m not entirely convinced that it is. We need, after all, taxonomies to frame and catalog data observed and collected in the field. In fact, and as alluded to earlier, I’d argue that the task and duty of the scholar is to generate and/or appropriate terms for the particularly scholarly purposes of elucidation, historical preservation, and descriptive classification. Marti and Ganiel have given us one of the most important analyses to date of a set of events and developments we might at least provisionally agree to categorize under the heading in question. Personally, however, I find questions of terminological genealogy most interesting. Why emerging or emergent church or emergence Christianity as classifications and not, say, post-evangelical or missional as ones? (I wonder if most scholars might agree that the application of entirely generic, social scientific terms, in place of emically derived ones, would prove an unproductive exercise. Don’t our informants need to recognize themselves in the works about them we produce?) In the staking out of what terms denote—academically, secondarily—Ganiel and Marti’s book is an excellent example of the ways scholars and collaborators mete out meaning through words, labels, titles, and terminologies in a relational, dialogical, even circular, fashion. No, “invention,” then, is not quite right. We might amend the title of this response, more appropriately, to something like “The Invention of the Emerging Church Movement as a Productive Scholarly Taxon.”

Works Referenced

Bielo, James S. 2011. Emerging Evangelicals: Faith, Modernity, and the Desire for Authenticity. New York University Press.

Douglas, Mary. 1980 [1966]. Purity and Danger: An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo. Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul.

Marti, Gerardo and Gladys Ganiel. 2014. The Deconstructed Church: Understanding Emerging Christianity. New York: Oxford University Press.

Packard, Josh. 2012. The Emerging Church: Religion at the Margins. Boulder, CO: First Forum Press.

Smith, Jonathan Z. 1982. Imagining Religion: From Babylon to Jonestown. The University of Chicago Press.

An Anthropology of Anthropology

The anthropologist has, as part of his culture, his conceptual scheme, a way of ordering his experience of another culture, a way of constructing the reality he believes he is encountering, and he is not easily shaken loose from that secure, reassuring, comfortable, well-worn common language to which he is committed and shares with his community of anthropologists, and which helps to define his place in that community. The anthropologist lives by his culture just as everyone else does, and it is very unnerving to distance oneself from one’s culture and community, for this leaves one without a firm anchor in some secure way of occupying a known place in a known world and ways of viewing the world.

From David Schneider’s A Critique of the Study of Kinship (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1984), 196-197.