When a pastor is re-frocked

Frank Schaefer, a Methodist preacher in Pennsylvania, officiated at his son’s same-sex wedding in 2007. This act of sacrilege earned him a suspension. When he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t do it again for another same-sex couple, the United Methodist Church decided to defrock him last year. But in June the church went ahead and re-frocked him. A panel of judges decided it was unwise to punish the minister for something he had not yet done. Mr Schaefer now has plans to resume his pastoral work in Santa Barbara, California, ministering to college students. “One day we will celebrate the fact that we have moved beyond this horrible chapter in our church’s life,” he said.

Same-sex marriage poses an existential problem for a number of religious groups in America. Now that these unions are legal in 19 states and the District of Columbia, faith-based leaders are left wondering how much they need to change with the times. Though some are sympathetic to the needs of gay congregants, many pride themselves on their principled dissonance with popular culture. Indeed, not a few Methodists are appalled at the example set by Mr Schaefer. Reverend Rob Renfrone, president of Good News, a United Methodist organisation that opposes same-sex marriage, says that the decision to keep him in the fold “helps us see that maybe we are so different that we’ve come to the end of the road together.”

Orthodox Jews, Roman Catholics and conservative Protestant groups like the Southern Baptist Convention remain adamantly opposed to gay marriage. It is hard to know what impact this is having on attracting and retaining followers. The Public Religion Research Institute found that one-third of millennials who left the faith they grew up with did so because they felt alienated by such narrow, anti-gay views. The Methodists now count 7m American devotees, down from 11m at its 1968 peak.

There seems to be a general sense that some change is inevitable. In June the Presbyterian Church voted to change its definition of marriage in order to recognise same-sex unions. American Catholics are pretty evenly divided on same-sex marriage; around half are now in favour of it, says PRRI. Pope Francis’s refreshing take on sexual orientation last year—“Who am I to judge?”—has reportedly helped coax some lapsed Catholics back into pews.

This isn’t to say that embracing same-sex marriage will stem the tide of declining membership. Liberal Protestant and Jewish denominations that recognise same-sex marriage are seeing their numbers fall, too. At its height in the 1960s, Protestant affiliation reached a combined membership of 40m Americans. But this trend has steadily reversed, and mainline Protestants now number around 15m. Between 2012 and 2013 alone, the Presbyterian Church lost 80,000 members.

Within the religious marketplace, unaffiliated Americans are actually the fastest growing subset, according to the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life. More than four in ten American adults have either switched denominations, joined a faith or dropped one altogether. This kind of religious flux is unprecedented. It suggests that Americans are becoming more discerning, spiritually, and are increasingly uncertain about where to land in a culture of rapidly evolving social mores.

The biggest shift is generational. “It is difficult,” says PRRI, “to overstate the effect age has on support for same-sex marriage which is evident even among groups that oppose same-sex marriage.” Seven in ten Americans aged 18 to 34 support same-sex unions, as opposed to fewer than four in ten of their elders. Even within evangelical denominations, where support for gay marriage tends to be lowest, twice as many young people as old are supportive (43% versus 19%). The new generation of American adults has radically different social views than those who came before them, and this shift is putting religious groups in an uncomfortable position. Do they adapt to the practices of secular society in order to retain younger congregants? Or will this damage their credibility?

The trend appears to be towards greater tolerance. But as more denominations revise their stance on sexual orientation, some are witnessing a backlash. “You can’t allow same-sex marriage until you destroy all religions,” says Phil Burress, president of Citizens for Community Values, a Cincinnati-based conservative group that championed the 2004 constitutional ban on same-sex marriage.

Where national religious leaders are wary of making grand pronouncements on the matter, local authorities can be more brave. Regional bodies in the Presbyterian Church, called Presbyteries, are allowed to decide whether to approve same-sex marriages. The United Methodist Church has discussed allowing local congregations to decide for themselves whether to allow same-sex unions and ordain gay clergy members.

Among those who wish to be ordained is Frank Schaefer’s son, Tim. Despite the rejection and condemnation he suffered in the church, he still plans to follow his father into the ministry as an advocate for gays. He’s hopeful that the United Methodist Church will change its policies before he finishes his theological training. Hundreds of Methodist ministers have signed a statement declaring that they’re willing to officiate at same-sex ceremonies. Many have also come out as gay and lesbian. At the United Methodist Church’s next general conference in 2016, gay rights advocates within the church intend to push for a removal of the ban on same-sex weddings and the ordination of noncelibate gays and lesbians. If the ban isn’t lifted, the younger Mr Schafer says he’ll join whatever Protestant denomination will accept him.