Many years ago, a clergy colleague said to me, “I’d rather be in communion with Christians from different denominations who share similar values and theological understandings than with some in my own denomination.” I responded that I would rather be in a relationship with people of different faith traditions who share similar values and perspectives than with some Christians.

As the pandemic is having a profound impact on organized religious life and as the current civil rights movement is bringing all sorts of people (religious and non-religious) together, I have been thinking about that conversation. When people ask me what I value the most about my experience and education at the Union Theological Seminary in New York City, I respond that it was the diversity of student backgrounds, life experiences and theological perspectives accompanied by the shared values of justice, love and inclusion and an understanding of the wideness and breadth of God’s mercy. I came away from seminary believing that God is known by many names and revealed in many ways, and that different denominations, even different faith traditions, have more in common than not.

As I watch the church struggle to survive, I wonder if we really need so many denominations or even so many religions. I wonder if people would be more spiritually fulfilled gathering with those who share common values and world views rather than denominational or religious affiliation.

Throughout my career, like most of my clergy colleagues, I worked hard to grow the Episcopal Church, promote Episcopal identity, and raise up new generations of Episcopalians. That was a big part, often the most measurable aspect, of my job as a parish rector and cathedral dean. Once, I accidentally carried the red attendance book out in procession instead of the red Gospel book. At my ordination, I vowed “to conform to the doctrine, discipline and worship of the Episcopal Church,” and whenever I strayed from that message I was reminded of my obligation — and sometimes even reprimanded.

If these were ordinary times, this week at my summer congregation The Chapel of St. James the Fisherman in Wellfleet, MA, we would celebrate our patronal feast. From the prophet Jeremiah: “Thus says the Lord: I am going to break down what I have built and pluck up what I have planted.” (Jeremiah 45.4)

What if God is breaking down the church, plucking up all of our various denominations because we have lost sight of the essence of our faith? What if God is challenging us to reform Christianity into a different expression of the way of Jesus?

As Phyllis Tickle observed in her book The Great Emergence: How Christianity is Changing and Why: "About every five hundred years the empowered structures of institutional Christianity, whatever they may be at the time, become an intolerable carapace that must be shattered in order that renewal and new growth may occur." Ultimately, this good Episcopalian argued that as a result of what she calls a “cleaning of the attic,” a new and more vital form of Christianity is created, and the faith spreads.

My former bishop, John Shelby Spong, speaks of it as “a new Christianity for a new world.” If nothing else is happening as a result of this pandemic and social upheaval, we are likely witnessing the birth of a new world order.

I wonder if God is saying to churches, synagogues, temples and mosques — “I need you to become something new. I need you to be houses of prayer for all people, not just your denomination. I need you to prioritize collective action over doctrine and organize together for social, racial, environmental and economic justice. I need you to provide worship and opportunities for community, education and service that bring my good news of justice, love and mercy to all who seek it — even if that means letting go of the way you’ve always done things.” I think God is inviting the community of faith on a radical and transformative journey. How will we respond?