The Church Cracked Open: Disruption, Decline, and New Hope for Beloved Community. By Stephanie Spellers. New York: Church Publishing Incorporated, 2021. 152 pp. $16.95 (paperback).

James Baldwin, writing more than sixty-five years ago, identified a nefarious trend in American history and culture, namely, the “necessity to find a lie more powerful than the truth.” He warned that this self-deception “persists yet with a terrible power.” (1) Sadly but unsurprisingly, the trend continues in our own day, and the white mainline and evangelical churches in America are among the chief offenders. The Episcopal Church’s own self-deception about its history of racism, oppression, and exploitation, coupled with its cozy relationship with the mechanisms of American colonialism and imperialism serve as further confirmation of the veracity of Baldwin’s warning.

How do we undo this cycle of self-deception? The answer is at once simple and uncomfortable: we tell the truth. Enter Stephanie Spellers and her new book, The Church Cracked Open: Disruption, Decline, and New Hope for Beloved Community. The book begins from a specific point in time: August 1, 2020. COVID-19 is raging, the economy is in turmoil, in-person church gatherings have largely been shuttered, and the country is reeling from the horrific video documenting Derek Chauvin’s murder of George Floyd. A pall of lament shrouded the country, and people everywhere, but especially in communities of color, seemed to be crying out in anguish, “How long, O Lord.” The Church and society alike were indeed cracked open. 

What would the path forward look like? Would there be a path forward at all? The reality of steep declines in church attendance generally, and in the Episcopal Church specifically, were undeniable. What is God up to? What does faithfulness look like in the living of these days? Spellers is under no illusion that there is a quick and simple answer to what ails us. Quite the opposite: the path toward trusting and following where God is leading means that our own brokenness must be laid bare. 

Spellers turns to the fourteenth chapter of the Gospel of Mark for an illustration that will serve as the guiding metaphor of the book. Here, a woman breaks open an alabaster jar and anoints Jesus with a costly ointment as the disciples look on, outraged. In what will become a guiding metaphor for the book, Spellers writes, “We don’t know how to embrace the disruption, make the sacrifice, stop worshiping the beauty of the jar, and instead break it open so the healing substance inside can work its way into a world that so desperately needs it.” (p. 5)

We are invited to imagine what this unnamed woman might have to say to us in this moment. We have been given a beautiful jar, and we’re used to attending to it carefully, holding it with both hands, and carefully pouring out small doses of ointment. “Someday,” Spellers imagines the woman proclaiming, “you will have to break it open so the contents flow free, or God will do it for you.” (p. 5) Being broken open so that God’s life and love might flow freely is the point. The Church is being called to reorient itself away from empire and toward God and God’s life. The question, which launches the book, is, will we continue wandering in the wilderness of our own self-deception, or will we follow where God is leading? 

The first chapter begins with an epigraph quoting The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: “There is nothing more tragic than to sleep through a revolution.” The quotation is apt, as Spellers utilizes the first two chapters to present the reality of decline in the Episcopal Church, calling the Church to turn away from a posture of self-sustainability and institutionalism and instead turn toward embracing beloved community. She writes, “A church that has been humbled by disruption and decline may be a less arrogant and presumptuous church... It may be less willing to ally with the empires and powers that have long defined it. It may finally admit how much it needs the true power and wisdom of the Holy Spirit. That’s a church God can work with.” (p. 23) 

At first glance, many might be tempted to receive yet another book calling the Church to beloved community with tired trepidation. Spellers, however, is onto something refreshingly different. In the same way, while most books aimed at addressing change in the church fall heavily on either the theological or the practical ends of the spectrum, Spellers is fluent in both languages. She writes from her position and perspective as an Episcopal priest, denominational leader, and woman of color primarily to the Episcopal Church, but Christians of all denominations stand to gain much by engaging this book. The book is accompanied by other digital and print resources available from the publisher, which may lend itself well to a parish study or book group. 

Spellers digs deep into the history of American Christianity—the Episcopal church in particular—in chapters three, four, and five. She reveals both horrifying stories of racial oppression, subjugation, and violence, making the compelling argument that, “Of all the churches in America, the Episcopal Church was arguably the most willing to continue accommodating slaveholders, traders, and upper-class racists, and the least likely to welcome the equal and full participation of Black people, slave or free.” (pp. 60-61)

While it is important to tell the truth about the church’s past and present failure and complicity, Spellers takes great care to raise up powerful and hope-filled moments when prophetic witnesses resisted and remained steadfast followers of Jesus. In particular, she highlights the life and work of Vida Scudder, Jonathan Daniels, and Paul Washington, among others. As she prepares to make the final turn in the book, she holds out these witnesses as examples of people who turned away from the trappings of colonialism, empire, and self-centeredness, and turned toward faith-filled discipleship. Like them, we have that same choice in our own day. 

The final three chapters of the book offer a step-by-step guide for the Church to be transformed into beloved community. First, Spellers guides readers through the spiritual self-emptying practice of kenosis, wherein we give up our own self-interests and commitments in order to make room for God’s life. Second, readers are invited to assume a posture of solidarity—of crossing the boundaries imposed by self-centrism, in order to promote compassion, healing, and mutual understanding. Finally, we arrive at a place where we can take on the mantle of discipleship.

Spellers draws from “The Way of Love,” Presiding Bishop Michael Curry’s and the Episcopal Church’s recent work on discipleship. Individuals and groups familiar with this ongoing work will find many points of connection here, but every Christian—Episcopalian or not—stands to gain from this indispensable book. Stephanie Spellers has given a grace to the Church—and like all graces, it offers a challenge and a gift. My prayer is that we accept both.

1. James Baldwin, “Everybody’s Protest Novel” in Notes of a Native Son (Boston: Beacon Press, 1955), 20.