Joe Aldred | My resignation as a bishop
BORN, BROUGHT up, and inducted into church life in the rural community of Top Mountain, St Catherine, Jamaica, during the 1950s and 1960s before emigrating to England, I never imagined that one day I would become a bishop in the denomination that has been my family church in Jamaica and in England.
Now, after decades of membership and ministry in this USA-based Pentecostal denomination, I have resigned as a bishop. I can no longer, with spiritual or intellectual integrity, defend the faith as taught by my denomination.
In truth, I arrived at this conclusion over 30 years ago and pivoted from pastor and bishop to pursue a career in intercultural ecumenism and education, but hesitated because I did not want to disappoint those I cared for – friends, spiritual siblings, elders, and mentors – who I met through the church. Over time, some of those significant to my spiritual journey have passed away. My dilemma was further complicated by sentimentality of my own lifelong involvement, having been baptised and formally joining the church at the age of 11.
INTELLECTUAL AND SPIRITUAL CHALLENGES
My earliest intellectual and spiritual challenges within the denomination began to surface as I matured. I realised also that my denomination is similar to other Pentecostal denominations with roots in the Holiness Pentecostal movement of the 19th century emerging in the deep south of the United States. I have become increasingly aware of disturbing theological and doctrinal peculiarities, particularly regarding pneumatology and the way the Holy Spirit is evidenced in the lives of believers.
As the years went by, my holding the office of bishop became untenable as I felt increasingly unable to offer apologetics for several areas of my denomination’s teachings and practices. I categorise my concerns under three headings: theological/doctrinal, ecclesiological, and cultural.
Theologically/doctrinally, my denomination’s teachings are rooted in the perspectives of its white Holiness/Pentecostal pioneers from the mid-19th century American South. Bad doctrines taught catechistically by a denomination have real-life impact upon its members, usually empowering leaders, while disempowering and harming lay people. Doctrines such as a three-fold salvific formula, insistence on tongues as ‘initial evidence’ of Holy Spirit baptism, strictures about women’s attire and ministry, jewellery, tithing, divine healing, et al, in my experience, have been limiting, and, at times, injurious.
Ecclesiologically, the denomination functions as a blending of congregational and episcopal systems but with interpretative authority overwhelmingly centralised in the USA. The General Assembly, which has always convened in the United States for over 150 years, is led by an American overseer – now (more sensitively) renamed ‘International Presiding Bishop’. Because the denomination places great emphasis on outward displays of holiness and spirituality, it inadvertently neglects the deeper, more meaningful attributes of faith and God’s grace that should be supported by sound liturgy.
Culturally, my denomination’s identity is heavily influenced by American culture, extending a kind of neo-colonial dominance that overlays its manifestations worldwide. As someone proud of my African heritage, shaped by experiences in Jamaica, the Caribbean, and the UK, I struggle with my church functioning as an American ecclesial British outpost. I have concluded that only full national autonomy within the denomination can suffice.
TETHERED TO REGRESSIVE TRAJECTORY
As the apostle Paul writes in Galatians 5:1, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.” Church should, therefore, nurture our sense of liberation, not act as a tool of constraint, or, worse, as an instrument of spiritual or cultural oppression. Sadly, I have come to see that my denomination’s theology, ecclesial structure, and culture together amount to a systemic thwarting of the spiritual lives of its lay members. Those who survive have had to discover alternative sources of spiritual sustenance, besides that offered by the denomination.
Since I pivoted back in 1996, I have undertaken further studies, culminating in a PhD from Sheffield University, involvement in both secular and Christian broadcasting, writing and editing nine books, numerous chapters and articles, as well as engaging in public advocacy and theology. Like other organisations, churches must choose whether to move forward or to retreat nostalgically towards a perceived golden past.
In my observation, my denomination has increasingly become tethered to this regressive trajectory. I have no desire to be a defender and promoter of such retreat. Counterintuitively, my denomination in the UK has excelled in areas such as social housing and property acquisition. This is thanks to the vision and tenacity of the black-led UK leadership and may be a pointer towards a better future.
My hope is that my church in the UK and elsewhere can discover the theological/doctrinal, ecclesial, and cultural autonomy it needs to chart a course better suited to the flourishing of its people and the nations in which it ministers. For now, I remain grateful for the ways my journey has shaped me but aware that true spiritual growth sometimes requires letting go of titles and positions to embrace a more authentic self and calling.
In laying down the title of bishop, my place now as a lay member in my denomination brings me into solidarity with other lay members who have been my journeying companions over the years.
Dr Joe Aldred (former pastor and bishop), retired ecumenist, broadcaster, writer and speaker. Check out my latest book, Flourishing in Babylon – Black British Agency and Self-determinationavailable from online bookshops and bookstores. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com
