Hipster Calvinism

Almost everywhere I travel I can find a good United Methodist church on Sunday, although large urban areas can be challenging. Too often once-great congregations of decades ago in majestic buildings have declined to small, hyper-liberal niche communities. Two weeks ago I attended a wonderfully vital United Methodist congregation of African immigrants in Chicago. They meet in an old church whose original congregation officially opposes United Methodism’s orthodox marriage teaching and whose average worship attendance is down to a couple dozen. The handsome building is in urgent need of repairs. It’s at least generous that they share the space with the theologically conservative Africans, who hopefully will take full ownership when the old congregation expires.

This Sunday I was briefly back in Chicago but lacked sufficient time for returning to the afternoon African worship. The Chicago United Methodist Temple is famously downtown in a skyscraper, with a sumptuous sanctuary, and a soaring sky chapel on top. It represents the majesty of yesteryear urban Methodism. Today it’s strongly focused on LGBTQ activism and in congregational size a shadow of past decades. I did attend there once a couple years ago. The service that day was non-controversial, and the building tour afterwards was glorious, recalling an earlier age of dynamic Methodist witness in a great city.

Preferring more reliably orthodox worship, and seeing no available United Methodist options in downtown Chicago, I noticed nondenominational Holy Trinity Church, under two miles from the train station. One of four congregations in a Chicago church family, it’s Calvinist in creed, citing the Westminster Confession, and its parentage dates to a church in nearby Wheaton. The worship I attended meets in a magnificent 1920s auditorium built by a professional society of surgeons. Rich with columns, gold brocade, stained glass and carved mahogany, it felt like a temple from antiquity.

I attended the second of two morning services, and a large and young crowd was leaving as I arrived. The people coming and going were almost all in their 20s or 30s, some were young couples, some with babies, but most appeared single. A majority were white but a significant minority were not, with numerous Asians. The couple holding hands in front of me were a black man and white woman. The couple at my side were an Asian man and white woman, with a cute little baby whose name was from the Old Testament. The husband was a lawyer and amiably recalled to me they had attended the church several years but it dates back 18 years.

The worship, which lasted about 90 minutes, was warm. A praise band, including drums and piano, led the music, most of which were modern praise songs, but did include “It Is Well With My Soul,” an old favorite. The Apostles’ Creed and Lord’s Prayer were recited, and the Eucharist administered. Accustomed to Methodist grape juice, I was unprepared for swallowing the thimble of real wine. The 30-minute sermon was thoughtful, conversational and theologically nuanced. Nobody in the church was alive to recall when the Chicago Cubs last played in the World Series 70 years ago, the minister smilingly observed. (Most people in a typical United Methodist church WERE alive in 1946!) Neither officiating pastors wore vestments, and the congregation was all casually dressed, in jeans and mostly untucked shirts. Probably I stuck out in my coat and tie.

As a traditionalist, I prefer an organ, stately old hymns from a hymnal, and worshipers who are dressed respectfully for a special occasion. But the worship at Holy Trinity was orthodox, reverent, substantive, and clearly effective for its demographic. I left encouraged and inspired. Many of America’s cities, including Washington, DC, are filled with similar new church plants that appeal to young people. They are almost always theologically conservative, and most are probably in the Reformed tradition. Thank God for them, and may He continue to prosper them.

But it’s sad that United Methodism offers almost no equivalent urban ministry, its centers of vitality almost always in suburbs or small towns. It’s also true that more conservative Wesleyan denominations likewise typically do not have a strong urban presence appealing to young professionals, including in the nation’s capital. Why?