The shepherding strategy.

Promise Keepers Aims To Knock Down Denominational Walls And Build A Clergy-Led United Christian Men's Flock.

Renewing its claim as "a movement of God," the evangelical, male-only religious group Promise Keepers (PK) drew approximately half a million men to the Washington, D.C., Mall Oct. 4 for six hours of speeches and prayers.

The gathering, called "Stand in the Gap" after a passage from the Old Testament book of Ezekiel, followed a week of largely favorable advance press in national news outlets that came despite protests by feminist groups alleging that PK sanctions male supremacy. Stung by these charges and eager to allay criticism of its leaders' intimate ties to the Religious Right (see "Broken Promise?," May 1995 Church & State), PK scrapped its frequent fare of political sermonizing for appeals to diversity before the huge, sun-drenched throng.

Yet several sharp edges protruded from the carefully rehearsed PK program. These included condemnations of church-state separation in the public schools and shrill attacks on denominational traditions within the Christian church. In addition, in recurring rhetoric largely unexamined by the national media, PK founder and former Colorado University football coach Bill McCartney urged men to join with others from their home congregations to form a rigid, clergy-led corps of followers.

"Can't no guy leave out of here as a lone ranger," said McCartney in his speech near the close of the day-long event. Every man attending the rally, he explained, should "return home and submit to the authority of a local shepherd."

To reinforce this message, he cited a passage in Paul's letter to the Hebrews in which the apostle exhorts his readers to "obey them that have the rule over you and submit yourselves." McCartney wielded the verse, whose meaning remains bitterly contested among theologians, with no apparent qualm. "It's a clear mandate. It's not optional," he added.

Prior to McCartney's remarks, the Rev. Joseph Garlington, an African-American minister who is a fixture of PK programs, violated a pledge by the group's president Randy Phillips at the rally's outset that speakers would avoid "imposing our religious values on others." In anti-separationist remarks reminiscent of previous PK events, Garlington complained, "We have eliminated the authority of the Bible from the public schools!"

Garlington stopped short of offering a specific plan to reverse the situation but later asked men to take responsibility for it by shouting "It is my fault!" and "There is a cure !"

A series of speakers, including the Rev. Raleigh Washington, also compared - and even equated - racism with adherence to denominational loyalties within Christianity, such as the Catholic or Baptist churches. Washington joined several other speakers in invoking Martin Luther King Jr. and decrying "denominationalism." He asked rally-goers, "Have we loved our racially and denominationally different brothers?" Other speakers lumped together the two seemingly incompatible issues of racial bigotry and respect for Christians' doctrinal differences as "sins of disunity."

PK's national plea to erase boundaries within Christianity and unite comes on the heels of several such bids at the local level, where results are mixed.

One example often extolled by conservative evangelicals, including TV preacher Pat Robertson, is the massive interdenominational movement known as the "Church of Modesto" (Calif.), whose September "We Have a Dream" rally featured PK leader Tony Evans. "You've got to be a Christian before you're a Baptist," Evans told that gathering, according to the Modesto Bee.

Like PK's "Stand in the Gap" rally, the unified church gatherings in Modesto often promote better cross-racial cooperation. But unlike PK, which had struggled until its Washington rally to achieve significant tumour from people of color, the Modesto convergence has reportedly succeeded in reaching beyond white evangelical Protestants to bring in large numbers of Latinos and blacks as well as Catholics of all backgrounds.

Still, some observers of both PK and the Church of Modesto suspect that more than sincere desire for cross-denominational dialogue motivates both groups. In Sacramento, Calif., the Rev. Jerry Sloan of Project Tocsin, a group that monitors the Religious Right, notes that unified churches may be useful in swaying the votes of diverse constituencies during political campaigns. Evangelical leaders at the center of the unified church movement often play integral roles in such campaigns.

Indeed, plans for the "Church of Modesto" include the arrangement of "cell churches." While the term recalls the organizing model of paramilitary organizations, such bodies may more closely resemble the neighborhood or precinct committees of a political party.

McCartney's push for shepherding, coupled with other designs for the group's future, suggest that PK may be making the same turn to highly localized, coordinated action.

His call from the rally platform was only the most recent of many plugs for shepherding while representing PK. Appearing Sept. 30 on Robertson's "700 Club" program, McCartney discussed his goals for the Washington rally by saying, "I see every guy leaving out of there and coming under the authority of a local shepherd. And then I see the shepherds networking...and we can start to make a difference as men."

McCartney - whose organization, Robertson said, has been "assaulted by militant feminism" - mentioned shepherding twice more during the brief interview.

Shepherding, also known as "discipleship" or "the buddy system," may take many different forms, but usually involves a cluster of individuals who assign nearly absolute control over their decisions to an anointed local leader. Acting as both moral and financial arbiter for the group, the shepherd also serves as spiritual intermediary, leading his followers' prayers and relaying biblical interpretations or divine communications back to the individual members.

In part because it creates such power disparities between "shepherds" and the flock, shepherding has sparked allegations of abuse in several congregations. Mark Muesse, a religious studies professor at Rhodes College, told the Religion News Service that McCartney's approach raises concerns.

"It encourages a very uncritical acceptance of the perspective of another person," he said. "It sets up a pattern where you've got superiors and subordinates, and subordinates are supposed to do what they're told to do, and there can be no questions."

First noted as a fad among West Coast Pentecostals and New Age Christians in the 1970s, the shepherding movement soon suffered a series of embarrassing disclosures - mostly about financial and sexual misdeeds by leaders - that left it crippled for a decade.

But in the mid 1990s, with shepherding poised to make a comeback, fresh allegations once again threatened to derail the movement. In April 1994, a Southern California shepherding group called Momentusfaced charges of coercing and humiliating members. The crux of many confrontations, according to The Los Angeles Times, were "encounter" sessions sponsored by group leaders whereby members gave detailed impressions of one another's personal lives based on little or no familiarity.

Then, in April 1997, a report in The Washington Post detailed the activities of the Mother of God group in Gaithersburg, Md. One-time participants explained how leaders compelled them to fill out "buddy reports" about "sin areas" in their lives. Such areas included "sexuality" and even "sexual relationships with the spouse."

McCartney's plans for PK bear some resemblance to these arrangements. During an Oct. 5 post-rally appearance on NBC's "Meet the Press," he agreed that men's spiritual goals should be scrutinized and explained the network of "key men" and "ambassadors" whereby PK leaders cultivate emerging leaders and keep tabs on the group's grassroots membership.

A one-time Catholic, McCartney had his own initiation into shepherding in the 1970s during a coaching stint in Michigan. He is now a member of the Boulder Valley (Colo.) Vineyard Christian Fellowship, whose worship services include speaking in tongues, spontaneous healing and other so-called signs and wonders. His minister there, the Rev. James Ryle, also addressed the Washington PK rally.

McCartney told "Meet the Press" interviewers that Ryle holds a strong influence over him. "I depend on my pastor to help define the word of God for me," McCartney said. "I haven't studied. I haven't been to seminary. I'm very much at risk, if you will. I need to stay under constant monitoring."

This kind of top-down authority has prompted questions about the influence of Religious Right figures who continue to lurk behind the scenes at Promise Keepers. Asked if he would accept financial support from Robertson, Jerry Falwell and James Dobson, McCartney replied, "First of all, you've got to understand, those guys love Jesus Christ. They've been born in the spirit of God. We're all in the same family. We're gonna spend all eternity together.... Dobson saw the value of men standing up, so he got behind [PK] early."

McCartney denied any political aspirations, but left the door open for a possible run for public office. "I don't have any intentions," he replied. "I'm gonna be obedient to the call of God in my life.... If he calls me to do something else, I'll go do it, but I don't foresee it happening."

Asked if he would run for president if God told him to, McCartney said, "Absolutely. I'd be a fool not to."

Opinion polls indicate that McCartney's troops don't want to see the group become too partisan. A poll by The Washington Post found that seven in ten rally-goers opposed endorsement of a presidential candidate. But four in ten would support PK legislative lobbying on behalf of stricter divorce laws and vouchers for religious schools.

McCartney used the Mall rally to announce plans for the group's next high-profile events. On Jan. 1, 2000, he said, PK leaders are "calling for every church to gather on the state capitol steps in their particular, geographical state. We're asking the pastors to stand with their men." Perhaps in order to further PK's penetration into states and local communities and expand its internal hierarchy of "ambassadors" and "key men," McCartney also announced a January 1998 "pastors-only" summit meeting called "Building Mighty Men of God."

PK leaders aggressively plied departing rally-goers for donations at an estimated 950 "collection drums" stationed just off the Washington Mall. (Regulations bar direct solicitations for money on federal parklands.) Some clergy had chastened PK after seeing the group's drawing power and pursuit of a $100 million budget cut into local church giving. The group, subject of a June Chronicle of Philanthropy expose detailing shortfalls in its fund-raising, admitted after the Washington rally that collection tallies were disappointing.

Despite an early request from the stage by PK president Phillips to"suspend today your appeals before men," scores of activists for conservative causes recruited petition-signers, handed out pamphlets and hoisted placards. These included several anti-abortion protesters and staff and supporters of the Family Research Council, a Dobson-affiliated group whose president Gary Bauer is threatening a Religious Right-based run for the White House in the GOP primary.

PK volunteers, meanwhile, distributed thousands of copies of special edition "Stand in the Gap" New Testament Bibles containing envelopes for donations to PK.

According to the on-site survey of rally-goers by The Post, a wide majority (61 percent) identified as conservatives. The congressional delegation attending the event reflected this pattern, with heavy attendance by Religious Right allies, including Sen. Strom Thurmond, the longtime South Carolina politician who began his career as a segregationist; Sen. Sam Brownback of Kansas; Sen. Tim Hutchinson of Arkansas; Rep. David McIntosh of Indiana; and Rep. Jon Christensen of Nebraska.

But even among men who are not conservatives, the political undertones to the day's program and McCartney's push towards regimented spirituality seemed to raise few eyebrows. Both Victor Tanchez and John Henderson, who rode a bus with 35 other men from Los Angeles, voiced little concern about either matter. "If it's not of God," said Henderson of PK's ambitious plans for the future, "then He won't let it happen."

Meanwhile, religious leaders who are wary of PK are watching developments closely. Writing in The Washington Tithes, the Rev. David Currie, a Southern Baptist minister, observed, "What concerns many people of faith is that some of the key leaders and supporters of the PK movement are also leaders of the religious-political right. These leaders - Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell, James Dobson, Gary Bauer - carelessly mix evangelical faith with right-wing politics in pursuit of their vision of a 'Christian nation.' Many evangelicals do not subscribe to the politics of Pat Robertson, nor do they endorse an agenda that seeks to weaken church-state separation.

"Therefore," said the San Angelo, Texas, pastor, "many of us are seriously concerned that PK will be subverted and converted into another right-wing political organization. This is exactly what the leaders of the political-religious right would like to see."

Hans Johnson is a Washington, D.C., writer with a special interest in the Religious Right.