Culture Shock

One of the challenges of travel is adjusting to a different culture. In the process, one becomes more aware of the nature of one's own culture as things that had been transparent -- taken for granted -- become opaque.

The greatest "culture shock" of my pilgrimage so far has occurred Sunday morning as the Calvin 500 conference began. The conference is a key event in my sabbatical plan, taking place over the five days leading up to the quincentenary celebration of Calvin's birth on July 10. To add to the significance of the conference, it takes place at St. Pierre Cathedral, where Calvin preached, and the adjoining Auditoire where he taught during his Geneva ministry.

The first shock was when I arrived for worship way underdressed. I was wearing dress pants and a clean, unwrinkled shirt, but I found myself in a sanctuary filled with suits and dresses, all sporting "Calvin 500" badges. These were nearly all American Presbyterians coming to worship while on vacation. Unlike me, they have been part of the "official tour" for the preceding five days or so. I skipped the tour and signed up only for the conference. It was clear that while we shared a native land, we didn't share the same cultural expectations of worship (or travel).

Then, as worship began, a second wave of culture shock hit me. All of the leadership of the service, including all of the ushers receiving the "collection" were male. The preacher of the day, also a male, was dressed in a business suit more suitable to the Fortune 500 than the Calvin 500. I would not have been surprised to see a Geneva gown and preaching tabs, but a power suit? It seemed out of place. Then there were other things: instructions to stand (but not just to "those who are able"), lots of Father God language with no effort at inclusive language, and above all, a kind of preaching style that is expository without being exegetical, that confines itself to the theological issues of 19th century (yes, 19th, not 16th) Protestant evangelicalism with a tone of deep moral concern. (How many preachers have to decry the secularism and "immorality" on the streets of Geneva? Where do these people live?)

History tells us that Calvin was buried in an unmarked grave so that his tomb would not become a shrine of devotion, like those of Catholic saints. What I have encountered in my first two days of the Calvin 500 conference is less the spirit of the Calvin who didn't want to canonize the past than that of the church Calvin confronted, mired in a theology and a way of being the church that no longer fit either the times or our best understanding of scripture. Sometimes I feel like shouting down the preacher or walking up to the pulpit (it's about 6 feet off the ground) and taking over the sermon.

Case in point: one of tonights three (yes, three) sermons was on "Calvin's most cherished text": John 17:3, from Christ's "high priestly prayer": "Now this is eternal life; that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent." It is a provocative text, that invokes John's mystical understanding of "eternal life" (as in John 3:16) and "union in Christ." But did the sermon (by a seminary president, no less) make any effort to place the text in Johannine theology? Did he even try to place its meaning in Calvin's theology? No. Eternal life means the life in heaven after we die. Our purpose is to help people find heaven when they die, according to the preacher. No effort at all to understand what this pre-modern vision of salvation communicates in the 21st century. No effort to correlate Calvin and our day. It wasn't a sermon. It was an exercise in a meaningless language game.

There are times I want to say to them, "Haven't you even read Barth? He's only been published for 90 years, and is the most significant interpreter of Calvin in history." Oh well. there have been a few bright spots, at least. But for the most part, I feel like a tourist in a land where I don't speak the language or know the customs. Culture shock.