Atheist Minister Gretta Vosper Receives a Hug from Fran Ota, Also

Atheist minister Gretta Vosper receives a hug from Fran Ota, also a United Church minister, before the start of the Toronto Conference sub-Executive meeting, held on Sept. 15. Vosper’s lawyer, Julian Falconer, sits to her left. Photo by Hugh Wesley Unsuitable Atheist minister Gretta Vosper is audacious, passionate and polarizing. She tested the limits of United Church tolerance and found little institutional appetite for her brand of unbelieving. By Mike Milne FAITH November 2016 On Jan. 7, 2015, two masked gunmen forced their way into the Paris offices of the satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo and murdered 10 journalists while shouting jihadist slogans. The attack was payback for caricatures of the prophet Muhammad the magazine had published. Two police officers would also die before the gunmen — brothers with links to al-Qaida of the Arabian Peninsula — were killed in a shootout with police. The Charlie Hebdo attacks were followed by a hostage-taking in a kosher supermarket that left four men dead. Twenty-four hours later, a police officer was murdered in the Paris suburb of Montrouge. In the immediate aftermath of the attacks, tens of thousands of people, many carrying placards that read “Je suis Charlie,” took to the streets in cities across France to show their solidarity with the victims. The French government raised its terror alert to the highest level, deployed soldiers throughout the country and rushed sweeping new surveillance measures into law. At the time, it was hard to imagine how the violence in Paris could have repercussions for The United Church of Canada, headquartered 6,000 kilometres away in Toronto. Yet the Charlie Hebdo massacre helped to set in motion a chain of events that could culminate in the firing of one of the church’s most prominent — and controversial — ministers, and trigger a potentially divisive debate about what clergy and members in the 91-year-old denomination are expected to believe today. It all began with a prayer. The day after the attacks, the church posted a message on its website from then-moderator Very Rev. Gary Paterson, praying for “all affected by the Paris shooting.” Posting it was nothing out of the ordinary: disturbing or tragic world events often prompt an official response from the United Church. “Gracious God,” the prayer began, “by the light of faith, lead us to seek comfort, compassion, and peace, in the face of escalating violence around the world.” What was unusual about the prayer was the response it elicited from one of Paterson’s fellow ministers. Rev. Gretta Vosper, a minister at Toronto’s West Hill United who is also an author, speaker, blogger and — for the past several years — a self-described atheist, quickly weighed in online with an open letter to Paterson. She questioned his reference to “a supernatural being whose purposes can be divined” and called it a belief that “has led to innumerable tragedies throughout the timeline of human history and will continue to do so until it fades from our ravaged memory.” Having a supernatural being at the centre of the church’s moral framework, Vosper wrote, means “we allow others to make the same claim and must defend their right to do so even if their choices and acts are radically different from our own.” In other words, Christians who confer divine authority on their God open the door to Islamic terrorists who can do the same with theirs. “I urge you to lead our church toward freedom from such idolatrous belief,” the letter continued. It concluded, “Now is the time to speak clearly and bravely.” Calling on a church to free itself from religion may stretch logic. Challenging the United Church’s elected spiritual leader over a routine public prayer certainly stretched the patience of the church leadership and many of its members and clergy — especially since it drew more media attention than the prayer itself. The buzz was hardly flattering. Writing in the Vancouver Sun, spirituality and ethics columnist Douglas Todd wondered if it wasn’t “a little gauche” for a minister to disparage believing in God from a Christian pulpit. The Winnipeg Free Press echoed the sentiment with a column headlined, “Atheist minister preaches hypocrisy.” While her response to Paterson’s prayer was surely a tipping point, Vosper was already a thorn in the side of the United Church establishment. She blogs prolifically on her own website; her Twitter account states she’s dedicated to “Irritating the church into the 21st century.” Yet she considers herself a bona fide product of the United Church, crediting its Sunday schools and critical approaches to scripture and theology in its liberal seminaries with nurturing her beliefs — or lack thereof. Born in Kingston, Ont., in 1958, Vosper was baptized at Sydenham Street United. As a Sunday school student, she was introduced to the New Curriculum — the United Church’s cutting-edge and controversial education resource for children and adults, which encouraged biblical questioning and interpretation. After earning an undergraduate degree at Mount Allison University in New Brunswick and starting a family, she moved back to Kingston in 1986, entering theological school at Queen’s University as a single mother. Ordained in 1993, she began her ministry in Toronto as part of a clergy couple before being called to West Hill United in 1997. She now says she mouthed the words of traditional prayers, hymns and scripture without really believing in them. In 2001 — in what she calls her “de-constructing God sermon” — she told her congregation she no longer believed in God. She was ready for a showdown, but it never happened, not then anyway. Many of the parishioners at West Hill had already been studying progressive theologians such as Bishop John Shelby Spong, Tom Harpur and Marcus Borg. In 2004, Vosper spearheaded the founding of the Canadian Centre for Progressive Christianity, and in 2008, she published the Canadian bestseller With Or Without God: Why the Way We Live is More Important Than What We Believe. It clarified her disbelief in a supernatural God, stating: “I know no proof of God beyond personal experience, and I cannot acknowledge that proof as substantial.” That same year, Vosper stopped using the Lord’s Prayer in Sunday services. That proved too much for some of the people in the congregation. As many as half of them left, most joining neighbouring United Church congregations. Those who stayed slowly rebuilt the church, adopting an increasingly unorthodox theology. Currently, West Hill’s regularly updated vision statement reads, “With roots in the Judeo-Christian tradition, we embrace theists, agnostics and atheists.” There’s no mention of God or Jesus, but the statement cites “love as our supreme value, understanding love to mean the choice to act responsibly with justice, compassion, integrity, courage and forgiveness.” Scripture isn’t mentioned either, but the congregation makes it clear that “we consider no text, tradition, organization or person to be inherently authoritative, assessing all resources on their own merit.” John DiPede, a longtime member of the congregation, elaborates: “We’ve always said that we don’t think anybody can come into West Hill and . feel uncomfortable about what we do. They may find discomfort in what we don’t say. But all that we do talk about has a values base. And that’s common not just to us, to the Christian religion, but to all of humanity.” On Sundays, the congregation gathers in a sanctuary where rainbow-coloured streamers obscure a large cross. Movable chairs, couches and easy chairs replace pews along one side. It feels more like an upbeat, musical kitchen party than a church. Visitors are welcomed warmly. There’s an opening song, greeting time (much like passing the peace in other congregations), readings (rarely from the Bible), at least three more songs (familiar melodies, with new secular lyrics), perspectives (replacing a sermon), sharing time and, instead of the Lord’s Prayer, words of commitment written by Vosper and her spouse, Scott Kearns, who’s also the music leader. The congregation seems happy. Needless to say, however, not everyone approves of what goes on at West Hill United. A 2011 Observer article on so-called post- theistic congregations, in which West Hill figured prominently, triggered a torrent of angry letters to the editor. “These post-theistic congregations have turned their places of worship into little more than coffeehouses for self-centred conversations,” wrote one reader. Another chimed in: “I have come to the conclusion that the United Church has finally and totally lost it.” Undeterred by such criticism — and some that was frequently harsher — Vosper published a second book, Amen: What Prayer Can Mean in a World Beyond Belief, in 2012 and continued to raise her profile through her blogs, media appearances and speaking engagements. By 2013, her website identified her as “Minister, Author, Atheist.” The new label made little difference to her congregation, but West Hill United member Kelly Greaves acknowledges that the word atheist is likely “what freaked everybody out.” Vosper was not the only non-believing minister to step into the public spotlight. In 2013, retired pastor, United Church television host and two-time moderator nominee Ken Gallinger, wrote that he no longer believed in traditional notions of God, was disillusioned by the institutional church and gave up his minister’s credentials. In late 2014, Bob Ripley of London, Ont., a retired minister who had led the United Church’s largest congregation, came out in a book and syndicated newspaper column as a born-again atheist. After being swiftly challenged by an official of London Conference, he too gave up his status as a minister. A few months before the Charlie Hebdo attacks, West Hill United launched a satellite ministry in Mississauga, Ont.

Load more