Evolving Christian Faith Network

A Response to "Why I Hate Religion but Love Jesus" Video

2012-01-14T02:30:00.000-06:00

While reading Nadia Bolz Weber's blog, Sarcastic Lutheran, I was introduced to this video. The poet, Jefferson Bethke (who self-identifies as "bball1989" on YouTube), has crafted a beautiful expression of his faith. In it, he identifies well the perspective of many on the outside of the church regarding Christianity. And that depiction isn't entirely inaccurate. The church deserves this rant: "Religion is just putting perfume on a casket."

I wholeheartedly agree with Bethke as he asserts that Jesus "finishes" religion (and in this context I mean "put an end to"). Religion promotes a religious identity, whereas Christ calls us to enter into a fully human identity, a state of being in which we identify with all those around us through their humanity. When religion gets in the way of this (as it often does), it only invalidates itself.

A quick caveat though. There is a lot of beauty, compassion, and transformation that happens within the structure of religion. For those who are open to it, a well-done worship service can take them into new levels as human beings growing into God. When this happens, religion has served its divine purpose. Despite its flaws (and there are many), I would argue that religion isn't necessarily bad.

My concern with this video is that its criticism of "religion" rings hollow to me. I don't know the poet personally, so I'm not going to say that the hollowness that I hear is actually coming from him (though I also can't say that it isn't). The hollowness I hear in this reflects what I've heard in others who basically say the same thing. They believe in Jesus, they believe in the Bible, they go to church, but they don't see themselves as "religious." Their concern over "sin" and what we "should" and "shouldn't" do dominates religious conversation. I hear the gospel transformed into the recitation of religious formulas guiding us through a divine morality tale that calls people away from sin and into a more sanctified life, despite the rhetoric of "freedom" and "grace." In short, people suck, but God accepts us, and in response we grow into behavioral conformity (with or without a church as part of the equation). As a result, they end up becoming billboards for the oft-scoffed at "religious but not spiritual" (or, perhaps more accurately, "decidedly more religious than spiritual"), and don't even know it (and if they do, they actually don't understand why).

Even though I'm a pastor, I consider myself to belong in the "spiritual but not religious" camp (or, perhaps more accurately, "decidedly more spiritual than religious"). Perhaps this is because I didn't grow up in the church. I don't think that religion is hopeless (though sometimes I wonder). It's just that modern, organized religion doesn't seem to function well within current cultural organizational and social models. Its emphasis on hierarchy, control, and conformity (the propagandist term is "unity") are antithetical to liberation into diverse ways of living.

In the video, the criticism of religion, especially the heralding of the end of religion, is to be lauded, and even echoed. But that which takes its place can't be another version of the same thing. We need to move beyond cosmic morality tales. We need to move beyond "shoulds" and "should nots." As we move forward, we need to move in a way that honors and celebrates our humanity, with its unique beauty and potential, all the while drawing us into deeper dimensions of life. We need to reject the idea that we are the enemies of God, and embrace the idea that we re partners with God in life together. This is not something we can do if we carry a "people suck and need fixing" attitude, which naturally leads us to what the video calls "behavior modification." But I believe this is something we can do, because I suspect God is calling us down a different path than we've ever known before.

Edit: I found the poet's name and added it.

Becoming Christ-Like

2011-12-09T13:07:00.000-06:00

Years back, I read a book called The Celtic Way of Prayer. The highlight for me was when Esther De Waal talked about the importance of feeling comfortable in your own skin. That means feeling comfortable with who you are. Yes, we all have our shadow sides. We all have those personality quirks that tend to derail even our best intentions, and even our relationships. Part of her point was that the shadow side of me is simply a part of what it means to be me. That's what I have to come to terms with.

Frederick Schmidt just wrote a good article on the difference between "leaders" and "hacks." In my reply, I argued that spiritual leaders were able to listen deeply to divine calling and guidance. The hack, on the other hand, was primarily concerned with self-preservation and self-image. I then drilled that down to what I believe it the key difference: self-awareness. Because the hack is unable to recognize and face her or his own shadow side, it prevents deep spiritual listening.

While replying, it made me think a bit about not just spiritual leadership, but also what we are called to as Christians. It seems to me that the Christian calling may often be misunderstood by many Christian leaders. I suspect that the stories about Jesus are portrayed in many churches as if we are to aspire to become "Jesus" in our own stories. How Jesus lived, how Jesus felt, how Jesus interacted becomes the ideal. I've come to conclude that this may not only be wrong, but misleading when it comes to a spiritual walk.

Simply put, I am not called to become Jesus. Only Jesus was called to become Jesus. I am called to become me. That means my lifestyle, my demeanor, my habits, my curiosities, my concerns, indeed my life will be vastly different. While Jesus was meant to live his story, I am meant to live mine. Not only is that okay, but that's my divine calling.

We have to be careful how we use the gospels. We live in a different context. What was "appropriate" back then would not necessarily be "appropriate" today, and vice-versa. This is not to say that the gospels are bad for us. Although I will say that I believe using the gospels in such a way that we try to become who Jesus was will can actually hinder us from growing in our own spiritual becoming.

The Christian Testament teaches us that "God is Love." From a trinitarian perspective, the spirit that animates Jesus (the Spirit of Christ) and the Holy Spirit are the same love. So, when we come to the gospels, it's important not to get caught up in the particulars of Jesus life and personality. Rather, we should be asking ourselves, "What does love look like? Why is this love? What is love, anyway?"

As Christians, we are called to become "Christ-like." This means we are to be the bearers of divine love for all those around us. Love will look different in different times and in different places. As we live our lives, we will not look like Jesus (who lived in a different time and a different place as a different person), and we shouldn't. Instead, we will look like ourselves as we grow into a deeper love.

I am me. I am meant to be me. I need to be comfortable being me. I need to befriend and embrace my shadow side as an important part of myself, recognizing my quirks as a form of self-expression. And while I do this, I am called to continually grow into an ever expansive love. This I believe is is my personal calling, because I am called to be a Christian.

New Feature: Disqus Comments

2011-10-30T21:18:00.001-05:00

Disqus is a commenting network, and I've just added it to the site. Unfortunately, in the process of switching over, I seem to have lost all of my past comments. I'm going to talk with them to find out how to get them back. Until then, we're starting with a clean slate. Also, I may have to figure out how comments are moderated. I need responders to please be patient while I figure this out. Despite the speed bumps, I expect the new feature to be an improvement.

Edit: It looks like the comments are back. *whew*

Aikido as Divine Liturgy

2011-10-05T14:06:00.000-05:00

Founder of Aikido,
Morihei Ueshiba ("O'Sensei")

For half my life (about 20 years) I've been fascinated with the martial art Aikido (which can be translated as "the way of the spirit of harmony"). I was introduced to it in my mid-20s. At first, it confused me. I thought martial arts were about taping into one's inner animal, unleashing it, and overpowering one's opponent, thus winning the fight. Aikido turned all of that on its head. In class, I heard things like, "You want to take care of your uke (the person you are throwing)," and "Don't do that, because you could hurt someone. Do this instead." I was confused, yet enthralled.

I only studied the art a few months before life changes made it too difficult for me to attend any longer. But it was enough to for me to realize that this was the art I wanted to study. So I didn't study anything else until I found a class in my area a little more than a year ago. It has been a great joy to return to the martial art I love most.

When practicing Aikido, techniques begin with an "uke" attacking a "nage". In contrast to many arts, the nage's mindset is not one of defensiveness toward an enemy. Even though uke's attack is (theoretically) that of malice, nage perceives the relationship as one of mutuality and partnership. When the attack comes in with its malicious energy, the nage accepts the energy as a gift by absorbing it in some way (or at least not impeding it). The nage then blends her energy with the aggressive energy, thus redirecting it into her center to make it her own. Once the energy is her own, her concern for the well-being of her aggressor cleanses the energy of malice. After her perspective and intent have transformed the energy into that of compassion, she returns it back to her uke, her own life-giving gift to him.

Of course, my life has taken many turns since I first encountered Aikido, one of them being ordination. Those years of experience have led me to look at this martial art differently. In the early days, I thought of Aikido as merely a non-violent martial art. Now, I look at it as a magnificent form of liturgy.

Liturgy, when done well, is far more than "mere ritual." It is about participating ritualistically in a story of becoming. In basic Presbyterian liturgy, we begin with an opening call to worship in which the leader calls out to the people, and the people respond. It's story that begins with a divine word that creates, in this case, a people. But then we have the confession of sin and assurance of pardon, through which we act out the fall and restoration. Having been restored, we now listen to the Word of God (the scripture and sermon) with new ears, ears informed by the experience of our fallen/renewed lives. Having heard our calling, we are then sent out into the world as expressions of the grace that we have received.

Attentive liturgy has a shaping effect upon our lives. When we intentionally participate in a story repeatedly, that story helps to shape how we see things and how we respond to them. Christian liturgy is a story of redemption, a story in which the power of divine love draws in the darkness to itself and transforms it, sending it out again as new light. Or, to put it another way, it is a story of transforming malice into compassion, of transforming sin into grace.

What does it mean to become more "human"? What would the world look like if we were to transcend our bestial drive to survive and the ensuing need to conquer? It seems that a worship service that relays our calling to become agents who redeem malice through compassion and a martial art that nurtures an attitude of caring for one's neighbors are both wrestling with the same question. As they wrestle, they tell their stories. And in their ends, they present new visions of human possibility in which we can all participate. Whether I partake of cup or twirl people around me, I experience both as liturgical expressions of the Divine.

Fundamentalist Snake Oil May be Hazardous to your Financial Health

2011-07-18T19:55:00.000-05:00

Original image at The Daily Dose.

It has been months since Harold Camping decreed that the rapture would come on May 21, 2011. For those interested, here's how he knew. Of course, it didn't happen. The rain date is October 21. Well, actually, the rain date was May 21, since the original prediction was for 1994. So, October is really the rain date for the rain date. Math is hard.

I've made mistakes. Everybody has made mistakes. When the well being of others is involved in the decisions I make, I try to be a bit more diligent in my discernment. If I screw the pooch and others suffer, I try to make it up to them somehow. It's my own sense of what it means to be responsible.

In fact, I would argue that a sense of responsibility is one mark of what it means to be an adult. It's an internal motivation that naturally flows from empathy and compassion. It leads me to recognize that my actions in this world affect others. I do not go plowing through life like a bull in a china shop. I am able to act in a way that "responds to others," which is to be "response-able."

For those who cannot act responsibly, there is accountability. This is the external force that says, "you have done wrong to others; you owe it to them to make amends." The idea behind accountability is not just to promote reconciliation founded upon a justice, but also (and more importantly) to prevent the damaging acts from being repeated.

I've already discussed why fundamentalism deserves to be treated differently than other religious stances. In short, it is actively dangerous as it engages in a form of emotional and spiritual abuse. This whole scenario of predicting the rapture reveals a new layer to the problem. Harold Camping has done harm, more than once, and will continue to do harm.

Interviews with those who've committed themselves to his movement (I call them "victims") have been very telling. The financial damage distinctly stands out. Some have spent their life's savings because they truly believed that nothing else mattered. Some maxed out credit cards and will pay on the debt for years to come. Before we say, "it's just finances," I should point out that financial damage is still real damage, and in some cases it has been crippling. People who bought his theological bullshit spent and lived as if there were no tomorrow. And then tomorrow came. The irreversible damage had been done.

Thusfar, I haven't come across any pledge on Camping's part to reimburse his victims for the effects of his behavior. In fact, it appears that he stands by his words, even to the point of saying it really did happen, but not finally. Obviously, he is not going to accept responsibility for his beliefs-in-action and the damage they have caused. Will there be any accountability? Apparently not. In fact, he's going to do it again in but a handful of months. Rinse and repeat.

Charlatans are a dime a dozen. Buyer beware. In this case, we see lots of harm done, and still no foul called. We don't want to cry foul. To do so would be the equivalent of belittling someone for their religious beliefs. We generally don't approve of that in our culture. Maybe it's best to be silent, lest we make religious people feel bad.

This is exactly what the fundamentalists want. When people are being victimized, victimizers hope for silence from bystanders. Without it, they couldn't abuse people as they do. Indeed, we need to cry "foul" when people's beliefs manifest harm in the lives of others. To portray Camping's belief system as having possible merit--as being something other than a dangerous, irrational delusion--is to encourage theological predators as they work to ensnare their prey. No, we can't hold Camping accountable. We don't have that kind of power. But we can speak up and decry the lie.

Classic Joke: A Rabbi, Priest, and Minister Walk into a Bar

2011-03-11T17:13:00.001-06:00

A rabbi, priest, and minister walk into the bar. They sit down at one end, and the rabbi says, "Want to hear what I did this weekend?" The other say, "Sure."

The rabbi, whose name is Abraham, continues. "I talked with my congregation about the importance of circumcision. Our God is a God of the Covenant, and we are the people of that covenant. When we circumcise, we are literally 'cutting a covenant' in the flesh. This physical mark reminds us of who we are and to Whom we belong. It's about personal and communal identity. I am part of the divine Covenant. We are part of the divine covenant together. We are not, and never will be, alone."

The priest and minister nod together and say, "very nice." Then the priest says, "Do you want to hear what I did this weekend?" The others say, "Sure."

The priest, whose name is Peter, continues. "I talked with my congregation about the importance of liturgy. Liturgy isn't just 'meaningless ritual.' When we participate in liturgy, we are participating in an eternal story. In the beginning God calls us into being as a people. It is in community that God transforms us. It is in community that God nourishes and empowers us. It is out of community that God sends us to become enfleshed grace for others as we live out the story of Jesus in the world."

The rabbi and the minister nod together and say, "very nice." Then the minister says, "Do you want to hear what I did this weekend?" The others say, "Sure."

The minister, whose name is Paul, continues. "I preached about the importance of Scripture. The Bible is the Word of God, inspired by God to grant unto us real guidance in this and every age. It is a timeless book that bears witness to an eternal truth. And the most important thing that it does as the Word of God in text is to point us to the Word of God enfleshed: Jesus Christ, the Son of God, Savior of the World. It is the Bible, filled with divine prophecy and wisdom, that leads us to take Jesus into our hearts so that we do not find ourselves ultimately lost.

The priest nods and says "very nice." The rabbi shrugs and says, "Meh, whatever."

The bartender walks up the the three religious leaders. He asks the rabbi, "Abraham, need anything?" The rabbi says, "Yeah, I'd like a brandy." The bartender pours some brandy into a glass and slides it to him.

Then the bartender looks at the priest and asks, "Peter, need anything?" The priest says, "Yeah, I'd like a glass of wine." The bartender pops the cork on a bottle and pours out a glass of wine and slides it to him.

Then the bartender looks at the minister and asks, "Paul, need anything?" The minister says, "Yeah, I'd like a beer." The bartender pulls the tap and fills a mug full of beer and slides it to him.

The bartender then takes all their plastic and places it by the register, for at the end of the day they will pay whatever tab they run up.

Then the bartender goes down to the other end of the bar where another man sits. The bartender slides him a shot of Jameson's alongside a rum and coke, and they begin to talk.

Way of Ashes and Dust

2011-03-09T18:38:00.002-06:00

If you ask people what their favorite holiday in the Christian calendar is, usually they will say Christmas or Easter. There's a reason we have "C&E" Christians who come out of the woodwork twice (or once) a year. Christmas and Easter are the two happiest days of the year. Hooray for the triumph of God!

Oddly enough, my favorite holiday is Ash Wednesday. If there is a nadir in the Christian calendar, this is it. It begins the season of Lent in a somber way. It opens the door to self reflection (theoretically, serious self reflection) in a way that no other Christian holiday does (with the possible exception of Black Friday).

I think what appeals to me most about this holiday is that it is all about the grit of life. There is no gloss. There are no platitudes. There are no excuses. The fact is we are all human beings, and human life is messy. It's just who we are. To believe otherwise is to live in a fantasy world.

I like the "raw" feeling of Ash Wednesday. I look at my flesh and I see it for what it is: flesh. I look at the earth around me and see the dirt. I look past the light, and I see the shadow. It evokes the perfect emotional atmosphere to meditate on what it means to be human.

Years back, when I served a small congregation in Ladd, IL, we had a small group of young adults who gathered twice a month for spiritual nourishment. In our opening time we used to recite a liturgy together. Each season had its own, and I want to share the one we used for Lent.

I stole some of the text from Celtic Daily Prayer: Prayers and Readings From the Northumbria Community before I modified it. We would sit in a circle with ashes and candles. We would pass the ashes from Ash Wednesday around and each make the mark of the cross on one's neighbor's right hand, until everyone had been marked. During the marking, the marker would say:

Remember, from dust you have come and to dust you shall return.

Then, in the same way, we would pass around a candle to light our neighbor's candle, saying as we did so:

May the light of Christ shine in you always.

Then, together we would read:

Lord, help me now to unclutter my life,
to organize myself in the direction of simplicity.

Lord, teach me to listen to my heart;
teach me to welcome change instead of fearing it.

Lord, I give You these stirrings inside me,
I give You my discontent,
I give You my restlessness,
I gie You my doubt,
I give You my despair,
I give You all the longings I hold inside.

Help me to listen to these signs of change, of growth; to listen seriously and follow where they lead through the breathtaking empty space of an open door.

Amen.

I love that liturgy. I think I may keep it close through out this upcoming Lent. Let us welcome Ash Wednesday with open hearts, and may we be all the better as human beings for it.

Rabbi Michael Lerner on the Cry for Relief from Egypt

2011-02-02T19:13:00.002-06:00

Egypt is becoming a hotspot. It's people cry out for the end of an oppressive regime. With revolution in the air, I'm embarrassed to say that I hadn't realized the extent to which the nation had problems until I came across this video.

Upon watching, I was both stunned and moved. I've recently done a quick search to catch up on the situation, and it appears that the Huffington Post has an nice synopsis. After reading, I feel I should say something, but I have yet to find my voice in all of this.

Therefore, I'm going to point everyone to someone who knows more than I, Rabbi Michael Lerner. If there is hope in this situation, Lerner draws it out by saying,

In normal times, when the forces of repression seem to be winning, this kind of thinking [that generosity and caring rather than force can lead to national security] is dismissed as "utopian" by the "realists" who shape public political discourse. But when events like the uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt occur, for a moment the politicians and media are stunned enough to allow a different kind of thinking to emerge, the kind of thinking that acknowledged that underneath all the "business as usual" behaviour of the world's peoples, the yearning for a world based on solidarity, caring for each other, freedom, self-determination, justice, non-violence and yes, even love and generosity, remains a potent and unquenchable thirst that may be temporarily repressed but never fully extinguished.

Read Rabbi Michael Lerner's full article at Tikkun here.

Introducing Slavoj Zizek

2011-01-31T19:32:00.002-06:00

I thankfully stumbled Fora.Tv recently. I highly recommend checking it out; it's brain food on crack.

While searching through their religion section, I found a presentation by Slavoj Zizek. I must confess, I know little about Zizek, but from what I can tell, he's a hot item right now. He's a self-described Christian Atheist. From what I can tell, he draws his theology primarily from the Death of God theology that arose in the 1960s (something I intend to learn more about in the near future).

In the following presentation, entitled "God Without the Sacred," Slavoj Zizek challenges the idea that "if there is no God, then everything is permitted," (6.43, a quote allegedly attributed to Dostoyevsky) which would lead to unchecked exploitation. In response, he argues that it is the self-appointed agents of God, "the so-called fundamentalists who practice a perverted version of what Kierkergaard called the religious suspension of the ethical. On God's mission, one is allowed to kill thousands." (10.0) So, "If God exists, then everything is permitted." (13.30)

Zizek appears to adhere to an understanding of the sacred as something capable of extraordinary evil, much like how a human may appear in the eyes of a cat. This concept of the sacred leads to active sacrifice to stave off this possible evil. With this understanding, he claims that Judaism, Christianity, and Islam aret first religions without the sacred. Christianity in particular undermines the power of the saced by viewing sacrifice from the perspective othe innocent other. In these three religions, liminal experience remains, but not the need of sacred scapegoating to stave off great evil.

Zizek's narrow understanding of the sacred is not something of which I'm fond. As a result, I don't agree with his negative portrayal of the "neo-pagan, post-secular" perspective, which according to him views the sacred (and therefore the sacrificial act) from the communal perspective (of course, in contrast to his Christian perspective that views the sacred and sacrifice from the angle of the innocent other). Nonetheless, there is a lot of good stuff for thought in this video.

A good quote:

Christ's death on the cross means precisely that one should drop without restraint the notion of God as a transcendent Caretaker who guarentees the happy outcome of our acts. Christ's death on the cross is the death of precisely this God, the God above.... I think that Christ's death means to refuse any deeper meaning that obfuscates the brutal real of historical catastrophe. (41.50)

Edited to correct information.

Holy War: A War of Compassion

2011-01-04T20:39:00.000-06:00

The Way of Compassion

Holy war is perhaps one of the most taboo phrases in (non-radically militant) religious spheres. It immediately evokes memories of terroist bombings and other crusades. War is bad. War is something we want to avoid. There isn't any kind of war that can ultimately be good. Or is there?

What if we were to focus on the word "holy" instead of "war"? As Marcus Borg, in Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time, has noted, holiness in the Christian Testament isn't about ritual cleanliness or moral codes. Rather, compassion is the holiness of God. (Sorry, no direct quote. I loaned out the book.) Above all, Christians are called to love. And, we all know that for Jesus holy love isn't meant just for one's friends, but extends to one's enemies as well.

Unfortunately, it appears that followers of Jesus have been confusing holy war with violent war since before the crucifixion.

He said to them, "But now one who has a money bag should take it, and likewise a sack, and one who does not have a sword should sell his cloak and buy one." (Luke 22.36, NAB)

Jesus said to him, "Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?" His disciples realized what was about to happen, and they asked, "Lord, shall we strike with a sword?" And one of them struck the high priest's servant and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said in reply, "Stop, no more of this!" Then he touched the servant's ear and healed him. (Luke 22.48-51, NAB)

According to the gospels, nowhere did Jesus condone slicing people up, torturing them, or killing them...and certainly not in the name of God. Indeed, those willing to draw swords against other human beings are portrayed as being moved by a spirit not aligned with the Divine. Because of this, I am a pacifist. Admittedly, there are times when violence seems to be our only option to protect the lives of the powerless. This is why good people with good intentions will pick up arms against their human sisters and brothers. I'm willing to accept the possibility that some circumstances might call for the use of violence to stop violence. Still, I am not fully convinced, so I continue to walk and advocate for my path.

Recently, I have reentered the martial arts. My art of choice: aikido. In my mind, it embodies the spirit of holy war. To begin with, the assailant is not your "enemy," but a friend who has yet to recognize who you are. Destroying one's friends can hardly be considered a victory, so the goal is reconciliation into one spirit. As the assailant attacks, the attacker is projecting energy from her or his center toward you. Your task is to accept that energy as a gift (making contact that does not hinder, but flows with it), nurture it (using circular motion to redirect it), and and fully embrace it (completing the transfer of energy from the assailant's center to your own, which is now in control of the motion), thus ending the attack. It is a martial art oriented toward compassion. Of course, I'm a beginner and my articulation may be misguided, but that's basically how I perceive it.

If aikido were used as a model for holy war (a war in which one wielded the power of compassion rather than violence), then the world would look very different. Hitler rose to power because he basically said, "Follow me and I will feed you, give you a place to live, and restore your dignity." The result makes sense. These are basic human needs, and we court disaster when they aren't met. I have to wonder, if Christians had stepped up before Hitler's rise to meet those needs, how different would 20th-century history have been?

Violent war is reactive; a disastrous situation arises, boils over, and leads to mass death. Holy war is proactive; it attempts to head off violence by meeting human needs before they lead us down darker paths. Aikido is usually translated as "the way of the spirit of harmony." I actually prefer to read it as "the way of the harmonizing spirit." That's ultimately what holy war is about: heading off violence through acts of life-nourishing love. It is never about violence and ensuing victory. I suspect that if ever holy war were engaged in full, it could become the war to end all wars.

The Trinitarian Calling: Unity In and Through Irreversible Diversity

2010-12-29T11:12:00.000-06:00

I find myself revisiting certain books repeatedly, hoping to rediscover the wonder that I encountered upon first cracking them open. This morning, Divinity and Diversity: A Christian Affirmation of Religious Pluralism did not disappoint.

This is potentially my favorite understanding and application of trinitarian theology to date. As she works through her pluralistic theology, she notes that

The aspect of the tradition that I find helpful is the Christian association of the image of God with the trinitarian nature of God. In differentiation from the tradition, I suggest that if the image reflects trinitarianism, then the image must be communal, not individual. A Christian understanding of the Trinity necessarily argues that the very nature of God is a depth of unity that is established in and through irreducible diversity. (65-66)

When she talks about individuality vs. community, she is specifically referring to how trinitarian theology has been traditionally understood. In the past, the emphasis has been on how an individual is called to reflect the image of God. More recently, this has been expanded a bit and we have seen more emphasis on how the church as a united community has that calling. Suchocki expands this even further.

We have tended to see this text [Genesis 1.26-27] as indicating that each human being reflected the divine image. Why can't we see it as meaning that all humanity in its togetherness is a reflection of the divine image? ... I submit that it is not our unity that is God's image, but our communal being that is God's image, and this communal way of being is our call; it is yet before us; we have not yet achieved it. (68)

Suchocki argues that God works through all cultures at all times. As they become more complex, that process is the reflection of divine handiwork. In their becoming, they were never meant to become all the same. Empowered to evolve uniquely by divine touch, Chinese culture is not meant to be the same as American culture. Empowered to evolve uniquely by divine touch, the Chinese worldview is not meant to be the same as an American worldview. Likewise, empowered to evolve uniquely by divine touch, Chinese religion isn't meant to be the same as American religion. Cultural diversity reflects divine diversity. Cultures are diverse because God is diverse.

I have argued elsewhere that the posture of a postmodern culture is oriented toward a healthy respect for diversity. We do not all have to be alike. We do not all have to belong to the same organization. We do not all have to believe the same things. Part of the Christian call is to promote an atmosphere that empowers diversity that respects individuality. I believe that this is what Suchochki means by "community."

Anyone who has listened to me prattle on theologically for any length of time surely can see why I like Suchocki. Admittedly, my emphasis is more on a Christological approach than a trinitarian one (though they are certainly not exclusive). I argue that on the cross, Christ irrevocably identified with all humanity (as opposed to just Christians). The primary Christian calling is to identify with Christ, and that happens in doing as Christ did, which is in identifying with all humanity. As we identify with being human, we become more fully human, and in doing so become more Christlike. So, Christians are not called to promote a "Christian" community, but a human one, one that makes room for and nurtures the diversity that makes life together what it is.

Word to the Presbyterians from Brian McLaren

2010-12-21T05:46:00.000-06:00

I've recently discovered the Patheos online community. It looks like a Beliefnet alternative (which is good, since IMNSHO B-net sucks). Admittedly, I haven't spent much time exploring it, so I don't know what kinds of goodies I can find there. Based on what I've seen so far, though, I'm hopeful.

Anyway, I found an interesting article in a roundabout way through blog links (and unfortunately, I don't know which blog led me there or I'd offer proper attribution). Unbeknownst to me, Brian McLaren talked with the Presbyterian Stated Clerk about the future of the mainline church. Of course, since I'm a Presbyterian, I found myself quite interested in finding out the specifics of that conversation. Uncovering the video thrilled me beyond belief.

McLaren's message lightens my heart. My favorite part is where he says,

Mainline protestants need the behavior of waking up in the morning saying, "If we want our tradition to continue into the future, we have to give permission, and indeed encouragement, for creative innovation and creative exploration. (see the 2:40 mark)

I wholeheartedly agree.

Nonetheless, as someone who works on the fringe, I think we have a couple of distinct hurdles to overcome. I'm not talking about the obvious, general cultural issues of a modern institution in a postmodern culture. I'm talking about specific issues for the PC(USA) as a denomination. And, they are hurdles that the system will probably not want to address.

First, we have to deal with theological barriers. The PC(USA) still has a strong conservative wing that has an exclusivist view that narrowly defines Christianity. When it comes to articulating a relevant theology for a postmodern context, we need to be creative. That means, tearing down the walls of the box. Almost assuredly, the theological explorations will be offensive to exclusivists, and if their track record is any indication of future action, they will also almost assuredly work to squash anything that they think is heretical. If we were to assume that about 1/3 of the membership fits into the theologically exclusivist camp, that's about 1/3 of the power already standing opposed to the creativity that McLaren identifies as necessary to pave the way to a new future.

Second, we have the issue of our polity. This is perhaps an even more sensitive area than creative theology. Institutional Presbyterians often pride themselves on overcoming theological differences by finding their common ground in our Book of Order. The Book of Order is the Presbyterian way of keeping the various parts of the denomination on the same page. This emphasis on polity as a source of unity actually makes sense. After all, when a denomination is this diverse theologically, you naturally end up with antagonistic camps fighting over political agendas. And, one of the ways you bring antagonistic groups to the table of reconciliation is by getting them to agree on ground rules. These rules establish a predictable framework that allows all involved to feel safe. Thus, our polity is a source of security that keeps us in relationship with each other. With polity becoming this important, rules lawyers have turned the Book of Order into their playground. Everything has to be by the book. Deviation is bad. Talk about fear-driven, anal retentive reaction. In this kind of atmosphere, it would be hard to unleash the creativity that McLaren is saying we need to allow.

I don't know what that means for the Presbyterian Church and its future. The Keepers of the System certainly have a stake in maintaining it's institutional interests while it works toward revitalization. I suspect that unless this changes, the outcome may be grim.

Still, it is nearly Christmas. It is a time that reminds us that things can and do change. Just because things are "this" way now, doesn't mean that they have to be the same in the future. Something new is coming, emerging, being born. And, if we are to be faithful, part of our task during this time is to keep our eyes peeled for some sense of divine movement in the perceived void that will guide us into new life.

Sacraments and Sacramentals

2010-12-15T10:11:00.004-06:00

I've recently been doing some reminiscing. Maybe I can expect this to happen more often now that I'm over 40. The more I have behind me in my life journey, the more fun stuff there is to rummage through.

For whatever reason, today I remembered what it felt like to read a particular book by Tom Beaudouin. I think the year was 1998. I had joined the church for the first time months before, and in doing so found myself in this strange new world. It fascinated me in many ways, and it was good for me with where I was at. I did a lot of growing there. Still, "my world" of the outside seemed very different than that of the inside of this institution. And in many respects, it seemed that stuff was happening on the outside that might have been spiritually healthier than on the inside.

Beaudouin went far to validate that sense. In Virtual Faith: Generation X and the Quest for Irreverant Spirituality (and yes, my screenname is a tip of the hat to Beaudouin), he argued that the gritty, angst-ridden counter-institutional spiritual movement was a prophetic indictment of an institutionalized religion that had grossly missed the point. I would say for one to actually get this, one has to understand that there truly is a category of people who are "spiritual, but not religious." And, from my experience, many in the church do not. It has been my contact with the church through the years that strengthens the validation of Beaudouin's claim.

Institutionalized Christianity simply has an emphasis that can't function well with the individualism of the non-religious. For the institution, everything that is of importance is "corporate." Corporate worship. Corporate meals. Corporate mission. Indeed, the Church is the Body of Christ, the Communion of Saints, etc. Perhaps nothing illustrates how much the corporate reality dominates more so than the sacraments: baptism and communion.

While in seminary, we read an atrocious theology book by Alister McGrath (whom I consider to be a terrible theologian perhaps best left unread). In it, he argued that there were two basic types of theology, personal and corporate. Of the two, only corporate theology is authoritative.

This seems to be exactly Beaudouin's point. It is this very mentality about spirituality (which really can't be distanced from theology, since that is little more than how we think about and articulate our spirituality), that the non-religious spirituals prophecy against. He separates out the corporate "sacraments" and the personal "sacramentals." The distinction is important. Sacraments are clean, communal, abstract expressions of faith. Sacramentals, on the other hand, are about what I will call "real" spiritual life. It's what spiritual life is like when the rubber hits the road. It's messy. It's imprecise. And it finds expression through such things as music videos, tattoos, kitsch, and bling. Contrary to what McGrath would have us believe, it is the personal spirituality, embodied in the sacramentals, that is truly authoritative as it speaks to and from an authentic individualized human quest for something more, rather than some abstract idea of what should be.

We have all heard about the dangers of "empty ritual." Ritual doesn't have to be empty. Personally, I love sacraments and sacramentals both. They speak to me in somewhat different ways. I adore the formal liturgy of communal engagement. There's a power atmosphere there unique to that kind of event. But what makes ritual meaningful is the extent to which it is born of one's personal experience, the extent to which it resonates with one's own faith journey, the extent to which it is personalized. By definition, sacramentals will always have more depth, even if the church is unable to perceive that.

Why Fundamentalism Deserves to be Treated Differently than other Religious Perspectives

2010-10-21T19:27:00.012-05:00

I have issues with Christian fundamentalism. I believe that fundamentalist "community" borderlines on a cult that is damaging to the moral and intellectual growth and wellbeing of adults as it promotes its imperialist ideology that is dangerous to wider society. I think I've made that clear before.

As a religious perspective, it has come under attack primarily as being "anti-intellectual." Basically, that means that one has to turn one's brain off at the door. Christian fundamentalists take a thousands-year-old text that is the product of various and conflicting manuscripts, and they turn it into this perfect book without error, for it alone has been given to us directly by none other than God Himself. Ridiculous belief? Absolutely. And anyone who is willing to turn their brain on for a short spell would see that quickly enough.

Still, is ridiculous relative? I think it is. There are many things people in this world hold to be true that I say are ridiculous. There are many things that I believe that others think are ridiculous. I want to look at something that many people place high on the ridiculous list to see why fundamentalism is different. Let's look at a belief in magic(k).

Recently, I've been reading a book on druidry. In short, druids believe that the world in which we live is filled with magic. Magic is life. By participating in their system of magic, they influence the world around them. Since we don't have a lot of scientific proof (if any) to back up such claims, many "reasonable people" scoff at the idea of tapping into the power of the universe by practicing magic as unreasonable.

Despite my emphasis on reason, oddly enough, I don't count myself among the ranks of that reasonable crowd. I believe there are many ways to interpret one's spiritual experience. Indeed, in part I share the druids' worldview that perceives the universe as magical and mysterious as well as scientific and rational. So, despite the lack of evidence supporting the claims of druidry, I don't have any issue with the perspective. I don't even know that I would have an issue with it if there were scientific evidence debunking it.

So, why a I willing to accept the "unreasonability" of druidry and not the "unreasnability" of fundamentalism?

I realized finally that it has less to do with whether the ideology is reasonable, and has a lot more to do with how the kind of world the ideology promotes.

Druids don't seem to have a problem making room for others in this world. Indeed, pagans in general promote a plurality of perspectives within the pagan framework. To my knowledge, they are not seeking power in order to impose their tyrannical ideology upon others without question. They take the healthy, adult stance that says, "I see and experience it this way, but that doesn't mean you have to see and experience it the same way."

Fundamentalism takes us in a 180-degree direction. On a personal level, it damages human beings by placing a cap on their personal development; it forces them to remain in a place where they process the world on the moral level of a 10-year old. On a societal level, it is dangerous when it acquires political power. Look no further than the legal push to eventually replace scientific evolution with the downright ignorant creationist understanding of the universe. In short, it doesn't allow for others to have access to a different truth. It seeks power to enforce its agenda on society. And in its extreme forms, it is willing to engage violence in order to pull this off.

One could argue that a magical worldview is just as unreasonable as a fundamentalist one. Perhaps that is true. But I've recently come to realize that reason isn't my key issue with Christian fundamentalism. It is my concern about the future and wellbeing of the world that fuels my disdain and ire.

Christian fundamentalism claims that Christ is its lord. There's nothing wrong with making that kind of truth claim. But by making that claim, it declares the standard by which it is to be judged: the life-giving image of Jesus himself.

Christian fundamentalism is not a religion of liberation, but of enslavement.

Christian fundamentalism is not a religion of peace, but of war.

As such, Christian fundamentalism's attempt at condemning the world only reverses as it condemns itself, exposing it as nothing but a lie born from the darkest recesses of that which we call "human."

Presbytery Agrees Physical and Emotional Abuse are Bad...But Avoids Spiritual Abuse?

2010-06-23T03:33:00.000-05:00

A couple of months ago at our presbytery meeting, a group presented information during our leaning time about “domestic violence.” The name was a bit misleading since it really wasn't about domestic violence, but about the wider topic of abuse. Nonetheless, it was a really good presentation. Unfortunately, we really didn't have much time to process or discuss the information, but that's not really their fault. They just didn't have enough time slated for such a thing.

Afterward, I started thinking. We talked about not only physical, but also emotional abuse. And we talked about it happening not only at home, but also at work. Still, there seemed to be something missing. Later, I realized how odd it was for a religious community to be tackling more “secular abuse” issues (meaning not church-specific) while completely ignoring a more relevant issue for the church: religious or spiritual abuse.

When I talk about religious or spiritual abuse, I mean forms of religion that use the threat of divine force or power to establish control over others. This can come in the form of dogmatic theology in which the threat of hell is used to make people stay in the pews and to keep them from developing into an adult spirituality. This can also come in the form of politics in which certain behaviors are forced on community members (religious or secular) against their will and their conscience, when their alternative preferences do not harm others.

It is primarily the cry to end abusive religion's threat to the wellbeing of the world that fuels the popularity of the “new atheists.” I dare say their criticisms are spot on. Especially the point they make regarding the moderate religious leaders. According to them, the real danger to our wellbeing comes only secondarily from the abusive types. The real offenders are the religious moderates who protect abusive religion as having a valid religious perspective. In essence, they say, “I don't agree with them and think they are wrong, but their perspective should be valued out of respect.” I recognize the importance of defending the rights of others to their voices, to their perspectives. But there is a difference between someone being “wrong” and being “abusive.” If we were to stand against religious and spiritual abuse as an ecclesial community, it would certainly lend to our authority when speaking out against the other kinds of abuses that happen in the world around us. Indeed, without doing so, it really turns us into little more than a great big joke as abusers decry abusers.

And don't get me wrong, there is plenty of speaking out against religious abuse within church structures. Taking stands against abuse is what church members are doing when they promote justice issues, such as women's rights and GLBT rights in religious structures.

Realistically, even though I would have liked our presbytery to speak to the issue of religious and spiritual abuse, I know better. We have a rather conservative presbytery, and such a topic would inevitably call out a majority of those in the room, especially if we included the issue of moderates protecting abusive ecclesial relationships. Such a feat isn't going to happen any time soon.

Perhaps this rant has gone on long enough. I know things aren't going to change overnight. And perhaps the reality of the picture is not as bleak as I perceive it. I guess what really bothers me is that the church seems so far behind society on justice issues. I mean, really? How is it that those who claim to have tasted the spirit of Jesus and found it to be liberating and good can be so far behind the curve? Is it any wonder that our truth claims seem like make-believe to outsiders?

Review: The Path of the Blue Raven

2010-06-11T22:26:00.013-05:00

Years back, I read Brian McLaren's A New Kind of Christian. What a great book for those coming from an exclusivist background (those who believe Jesus is the "only Way" to heaven). Through fiction, McLaren takes his protagonist on a journey through some difficult theological questions that come with living in our world. The most obvious, of course, is how could a loving God could send all those loving people to burn in hell for all eternity just because they didn't "believe" in Him? The journey is one of expanding horizons, a journey that portrays literarily the natural transition from exclusivism to inclusivism (the perspective that holds Jesus above others, but still makes room for them) that happens as we grow spiritually. Unfortunately, those unable to see past an exclusivist perspective will not be able to handle McLaren's book.

More recently (and to the point), I have read Mark Townsend's The Path of the Blue Raven: From Religion to Re-Enchantment. Townsend is an ordained priest in the C. of E. He is also a stage magician. He had always included his stage magic in his religiosity, but eventually his understanding of magic changed. Through experiential reflection and encounters with others of a more nature-based religious perspective, he grew into one who found magic (and I don't mean stage magic) to be truly a part of everyday life, indeed to be life itself. This growing awareness has led him to become a Druid.

His transition from parish priest to Druid has been one of liberation. The context of his spiritual practice in the church was one of dogmatism and highly institutionalized religion. The context of nature, in contrast, was one of freedom, excitement, wonder, and awe. The journey (as the subtitle aptly describes) followed a path from religion to re-enchantement. No longer serving a parish for the C. of E., Townsend reflects on his sense of call and purpose saying, "Now, however, I do not have an institution telling me how to behave or how to do this or that ritual or blessing. I still miss it, immensely, but I am freeer, happier, more myself and more a priest than I ever was." (p. 120)

It seems that what McLaren does for exclusivists, Townsend does for inclusivists as he helps them to connect to a pluralistic perspective (one that values all religious perspectives). To conclude his book, he adds several stories of others. Those voices include Christians who values a pagan perspective, Christo-Druids, and Pagan Druids.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Townsend's journey is, in many ways, reflective of anyone's journey as they grow beyond a parochial religious perspective. And its prose continually invites deeper engagement. I highly recommend The Path of the Blue Raven for anyone interested in learning more about an ever-expanding, personal, progressive religious perspective.

A bonus tidbit that came with this book was an introduction to the Ceile De community. I've enjoyed browsing through their site. It's definitely worth taking the time for a look-see.

Syncretism in Christianity

2010-06-02T17:14:00.008-05:00

Voices resistant to theological change have created a make-believe dualism meant to protect " (evangelical) orthodoxy" from outside contamination. This is the false dichotomy of "contextualization" vs. "syncretism." The success of this fantasy isn't really all that surprising. Evangelicals have noticed how important it is to relate to the culture in which they find themselves. Yet, they want to find a way to protect their eternal message from enduring the pressure of the cultural realities from invading their pristine chapels. They want to communicate the(ir version of) the gospel in a relevant way to convert and fill the pews. But they also want to feel justified in sticking their fingers in their ears and saying "lalalalala" in order to keep information from the culture out. In short, they want one-way communication. It's safe and clean. (While this may not be the stance of all evangelicals, it does seem to be the most dominant stance.)

The propagan... er, argument asserts that contextualization is good and syncretism is bad. Contextualization is taking cultural forms and filling them with evangelical meaning. So, The Passion of the Christ is good because it takes the form of a movie and uses it to communicate the message. Syncretism, on the other hand, allows not only form but meanings to mingle. Since this would contaminate the message, we can see how scary this is to evangelicals.

Theologian Kosuke Koyama pointed out the blatantly obvious more than 10 years ago when he said, "Condemning syncretism is like condemning the air one breathes. Nothing in history is pure and isolated. For the human mind, there is no choice but to meet, converse and syncretize. What a vast reality of syncretism is Christianity in the United States!" Though I realize how appealing the false dichotomy is to those who feel a need to stay pure, the resistance to basic reason sometimes baffles me. Even more interesting is the willingness to bury one's head in the sand and pretend reality isn't happening.

The reality I'm talking about here is the make-up of the central symbols of Christianity itself. And yet, strangely enough, as we explore them we see how the earliest Christians engaged in a healthy (well, that may be debatable) form of syncretism.

Baptism has its roots in primarily in Judaism, though its significance is best understood in light of baptism in the mystery religions. Generally speaking, from what we can tell, mystery religions viewed the worlds populace as belonging to one of two categories: the pure and impure. When joining a cult, one would first purify one's self, then undergo baptism as a rite of entry into the pure community. So it was purification, baptism, then participation in the pure community. Jewish baptism was an act of purification that happened inside the community. The community by definition was not pure but being purified. Christian baptism seems to have taken on the role of baptism in a mystery religion (a gateway into the community, the role also played by Jewish circumcision), and it filled it with the communal theology of Judaism. The separation of humanity into the pure and impure was liturgically rejected. Through the act of liturgical syncretism, early Christians took a stand on the nature of humanity. (For more on baptism, see the works of Wayne A. Meeks. Unfortunately, my books are in storage, so no citations today.)

The Lord's Supper (or Eucharist, or Communion) actually seems to draw more from a mystery sacrifice than it does the Jewish Passover. In basic mystery religion lore, a god (or son of a god) comes down to earth to teach humanity how it's done. Humanity, however, doesn't like this. So they unjustly persecute and kill the (son of a) god. In a grand reversal of the injustice, the god resurrects his son (or the god resurrects himself), thus the truth is vindicated. Those who would follow the god's teachings join the cult. One such cult was the cult of Mithras in which (if I recall correctly) the eating of the flesh of the sacrificial bull and drinking its blood empowered a participant to partake of the eternal life of the risen god. From the Jewish influence, it appears that the use of Passover imagery primarily served to identify which deity is setting the table. By injecting this hint of Passover theology into the rite, early Christians were able to claim the ritual and its mystery theology as their own.

We see syncretism written into the texts of faith early in the gospel of Matthew. According to the Zoroastrian religion, our world is the battleground between two gods, one of light and one of darkness. The human calling is to choose a side (and not choosing defaults you to the god of darkness). Their religion taught that one day, the god of light would send a divine emissary to lead the followers of light to victory over the darkness. The arrival of that emissary would be heralded by the appearance of a star. A task of the Zoroastrian priests was to watch for this star. Zoroastrian priests were also called magi. Thus, we see in the beginning of the gospel of Matthew a rubber stamp placed on the beliefs of the Zoroastrians. And in the gospel's dualism between light and dark, we see the incorporation of their religious dualism into the narrative itself. The textual evidence right up front, then, seems to indicate that the dualism prevalent in Matthew is drawn more from the Zoroastrian narratives than it is from Jewish fringe groups.

Then, we have the story of Jesus himself. I have to wonder, to what extend did the story of Socrates influence the recordings of the story of Jesus? Is the Holy Spirit of Jesus a rip off of Socrates' divine voice? Both were portrayed as men of strong character and amazing teachers. Both enjoyed a final meal with their friends. Is Jesus a literary parallel to Socrates? Or was the story a Jesus an attempt to overturn the story of Socrates (as the story of Jesus is clearly meant to overturn the story of the Emperor)? Socrates was educated from birth, but Jesus was not; perhaps the writers were trying to show their poor communities that wisdom comes from God and not classical education, so they need not feel inferior to their social superiors. I have not looked into this much, but I suspect we would find that the story of Socrates was partly written into Jesus' story in order to make a point. That, too, is a form of syncretism. (An old but interesting source to read might be Joseph Priestly, Socrates and Jesus Compared, 1803.)

So, if anyone really wants to proclaim that Christianity must protect itself from syncretism, then those people have some serious house-cleaning to do. They need to rid their theology (at least) of baptism, the Lord's Supper, the gospels, and (since the gospels are our foundation for what we know about him) Jesus himself. If their not willing to do that, they shouldn't expect me (or any other reasonable person) to take them seriously.

Posted via email from Evolving Christian Faith Network

Post-Church Christianity

2010-05-25T14:12:00.001-05:00

I've started reading The Existential Jesus by John Caroll. In the introduction he said something that caught my ear. I don't know if I've never heard this phrase before, or if this is the first time that it has distinctly struck me in this way. He claims that we have entered a "post-chuch era." I like that phrase. It says a lot more than the other "posts" that I've come across, though I admit my personal affection for "postmodern."

For years I have been saying that the sun is setting on the day of the paid pastor. "Post-church" evokes what may be the key element in re-visioning Christianity. As church membership withers, income diminishes. As income diminishes financial stresses increase, especially as buildings grow older and need more care. In order to pay off the seminary bills (which I believe will typically run around $200/month), pastors need a certain level of income. Eventually, there will not be enough in the bank to pay the pastor, then not enough to pay the bills.

Caroll, with his phrase "post-church" has made me rethink my tune. Rather than saying the sun is setting on the day of the paid pastor, what would it sound like if I were to say the sun is setting on the day of institutionalized Christian community? I don't mean "no pastor and no building." I mean "no established community of faith."

Back in the day (let's say pre-1950, before increasing enrollment in higher education and the information age, and before the Information Era), the church served as the primary place to learn about the faith. Pastors were teachers who told you what Christianity meant. If you wanted to learn about Jesus, the church, and the Christian tradition, the place to go was to the church down the road.

This is no longer true. Thanks to Barnes and Noble, Borders, and Amazon, anyone can find such information at their fingertips. And, thanks to various online resources, anyone can find out about nearly anything they want when it comes to religion from conversation with religious adherents. Very simply, the desire to learn about Christianity has been more efficiently met by other sources than by the church. That makes the church largely irrelevant, or at least of secondary importance, when it comes to such personal growth. Couple that with the suspicion that people may need "less" community, not "more" in postmodern culture, and it's easy to come to the conclusion (perhaps like many of the "church alumni") that Christian community is overrated, and perhaps even a waste of time (and not in the positive, make-believe sense that liturgists like to equate with worship).

Oh, no! But what happens to the seminary propaganda that says "Christianity is a communal religion"? Out the window. Instead of an ideology of institutional support, maybe "Christianity" should becomes the act of walk the path cut by Jesus in a messy, case-by-case basis through life.

So what might this new vision of Christianity look like? As I explore this, what I see is a network of people lightly connected through technology. On the internet, we have Facebook, blogs, and forums. These are places for people to encounter one another and discuss things relevant to their agendas, rather than the agenda of the one in a pulpit. Leadership can still pump out their materials through podcast, vodcasts, or streaming video. And it's not to say that groups couldn't form around social activities, such as the occasional (dis)organized worship, charity events, or even lunch. The main point is that this is a Christianity without membership.

Carroll identifies the Jesus in Mark as the existential Jesus "Because the normal identifying markers of the self have been stripped away from him--family, friends, a past, an occupation, and even an anticipated life-path." (p. 2) This is a troubling time for the church. Still, maybe having our form and identity stripped from us, leaving us bare before the world is not such a bad thing. After all, is not "resurrection" the language we use to say that it is the power of the Divine to transform the darkest of nights into the brightest of days...even if it happens in ways unforseen?

I find the idea of a post-church Christianity appealing. So, my thanks go out to John Caroll for helping me to tweak my question. Now that I've gotten this out of my system, I can move on to Part One of his book.

Image Source here. That's a cool site. Check them out.

Bart Ehrman Interviews on NPR

2010-05-03T03:50:00.000-05:00

This is a plug for Bart Ehrman. He's a hot topic right now in the pop realm of biblical scholarship. I say pop realm because those who have gone to seminary or have engaged serious biblical scholarship find most of what he says to be standard information.

We are watching his lecture series Lost Christianities (he has a book by the same name) in our Eclectic Mass spirituality group. In case you haven't figured it out, we're all fans.

For those who want to know more about what Erman's all about, here is a list of interviews with him on NPR. Enjoy!

Religious Dialogue, Not Religious Monologue

2010-01-17T19:08:00.000-06:00

With each passing moment, the world in which we live becomes more and more religiously pluralistic. Thanks to popular media and online access, we have at our fingertips more information about the “religious other” than ever before. Thanks to the increasing availability of higher education, young adults come into face-to-face contact with a global populace that comes from various faith perspectives. The parochial boundaries of our past have shattered. We can no longer pretend that our everyday sphere of contact is homogenous.

Amidst this increasingly pluralistic atmosphere, we see a rise in religiously-informed violence. In most cases, religious ideologies do not lead directly to violence, but they do hold within them the seeds for a radicalism that leads to violent outbursts when coupled with radical political ideologies. Radical religion and political extremism can make a dangerous combination. Add to the mix personal emotional instability and insecurity and we have a powder keg waiting to be lit.

It seems that the most successful match for lighting that powder keg is the encounter with a dominating, opposing ideology that is infiltrating its snug cultural context. Whenever a narrow, hard-line ideology feels powerless against the advances of an alternative ideology, adherents can easily feel threatened. Cosmic implications are read into the new environment, leading to actions that would normally be abhorred but are now justified by the greater calling. As the religiously pluralistic culture continues to expand, we can only expect a rise in religious violence in the world.

It is time for religious adherents to take a stand for a particular form of religious interaction. Too often inter-faith monologue is the reality when religious representatives encounter each other. Each side presents its own perspective into the Truth as absolute. The purpose of listening serves the greater goal of conversion (connect, then convert). The assumption carried into the discussion is that “I am more right than you.” As long as we enter into conversations with that assumption, we are doomed to fall into a monologue; others are objectified as they become targets for the religious agenda, rather than being respected in their personhood.

A better posture for interfaith discussion is one of a humility, which says, “I hold to my truth because I have experienced it to be most true, but that doesn’t mean that your truth isn’t more true than mine.” This posture leads to an authentic dialogue. We enter the conversation with our judgment suspended. We are open to hearing what the other has to say to us. We are open to having our perspective changed for the better. Yet, we still are able to maintain that there is a reason that we hold to be true that which we hold to be true.

Keep in mind that there is nothing wrong with upholding one’s religious truth. Our truth (religious or otherwise) is our measure for what is right and wrong in the world, meaningful or meaningless. And there’s nothing wrong with using our religious truths as our filters for understanding others’ truths; this is just a fact of life for how human beings operate. The problem arises when we assume that we have personal access to the Truth in ways that no other does. At that point we have not only closed ourselves off to spiritual growth, but we have opened the door to the dismissive atmosphere that encourages, and indeed fuels, religious violence.

The God That Neither Exists Nor Does Not Exist, But is Real

2010-01-11T18:17:00.000-06:00

I discovered fellow Presbyterian minister John Shuck on the web a while back. The part of his blog that drew me in was his “Meaning of Life” series (bottom right of home page) in which he quotes authors (including theologians) in order to present their alternative visions of what we are called to become.

Today I came across his post, “Sexed Up Atheism”. Basically he takes Richard Dawkins' description of pantheism and runs with it. The conversation that follows discusses the merits and differences of pantheism and panentheism.

What I like about posts like this is that they make me think. We need more of those.

What I like about posts like this is that they make me want to write a reply that identifies where I am (at the moment anyway). I need more of that.

What I don't like about posts like this is that, as I process my theoretically coherent reply, I discover how I am not of one mind regarding an issue. But, this is perhaps why I'm not fond of “systematic” theology. I figure the more theology can be systematized, or packed into a nice neat box, the more inaccurate it is doomed to become.

I don't consider myself to be a theist, panentheist, or pantheist. The thing that they all hold in common is what I want to avoid: a statement that “God exists.” Saying that “God exists” binds God to a category of being. As a result, all those theologies share a Story of Becoming, one that features the protagonist Being vs the antagonist Non-being (very Augustinian, I believe). The fact that they share the same story is important. Stories are the framework of meaning. Those things that are aligned with their end (the purpose) are deemed meaningful (or good), and those not are meaningless (or bad).

The crucifixion dismantles this Story of Becoming. Jesus does not overthrow Rome. Jesus does not liberate Israel and reestablish a Jewish nation. According to messianic expectations (a Story of Jewish Becoming), he did not fulfill the purpose of bringing a new Israel into being. Instead of fulfilling this Story, he embraced its opposite: he willfully entered into a state of non-being and left Israel in that state as well. Thus, according to the messianic Story of Becoming, he died in a way that was not aligned with its intended end, which means he died a meaningless death. This is why I argue that Jesus' self-emptying (traditionally called “kenosis”) reveals that non-being is as divine as being. Or, to put it another way, the becoming of the Divine is realized with, in, and through non-being.

In and through Christ, we are freed from the shackles of meaning that the Story of Becoming would impose upon us. Once freed, all things become meaningless. The goal of life (if indeed it can be considered a goal, or even life) is to freely eat, drink, and be merry (in case we have forgotten the book of Ecclesiastes). (By the way, this actually leads us toward the call to justice, but I want to bypass this and skip down to my point before I forget where I was going.)

So, what happens to God in this “meaningless theology” (which is what I think I'm going to call this)? I don't want to say that God both exists and does not exist (or is to be equated with both Being and Non-being), for that would maintain the divine tie to categories of being that I want to avoid. Instead, I want to say that God neither exists nor does not exist, but is Real. (And when I say Real, I think I differ from John Hick's assertion that God is the Real in that he emphasizes God's existence.)

God does not have to exist to be Real. There are many ways in which non-existent perceptual realities affect the world in a very real way. Yet, to say that is still not to say that God does not exist.

So, my affirmation that God neither exists nor does not exist moves me beyond theism, panentheism, and pantheism, and my personal theology becomes meaningless in a very real way.

Once I've said my God is Real, I have to ask myself what my vision of my God is. So far, the best formula I have come up with is to say that God is...

...the life-giving Source of creativity
...the loving Way of interpenetration
...the abysmally absolute Other

And this is why I say I'm of (at least) two minds regarding the issue. I have just spent a lot of time pointing out that God should not be reduced to the categories of Being inherent in theism, panentheism, or pantheism. Then, I articulated my new vision of a God that neither exists nor does not exist, but is Real. Then, I articulate this Divine Reality with a trinitarian panentheist formula that contradicts everything I just said.

So, in the end, I guess all of this has turned out to be quite meaningless...which in my mind is really a good thing (assuming it can be considered a “thing” at all).

The Call to Happiness and Joy

2009-12-31T08:32:00.000-06:00

I woke up this morning and decided to check out the lectionary before work. It turns out that the passage for 1 Jan is from my favorite Hebrew Scripture book, Ecclesiastes. Yes, my favorite book is the one that declares, "Utterly meaningless, says the Teacher. All things are meaningless." (And, in this case, I actually like the NIV translation the best.)

We are about the complete the first decade of the new millennium. It seems strange when I think about it that way, but it's true. As we get ready to enter the second, the words of the Teacher can help us to orient ourselves. I'm going to edit to ease reading.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:...
a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to throw away...
What gain have the workers from their toil?...
I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live;
moreover, it is God's gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil.

As we get ready to celebrate the turning of the new year, embrace your destiny, fulfill your purpose, hearken to the divine call: eat, drink, and be merry. And while doing so, be responsible, don't hurt others, and be safe.

Theologian Del Brown Interview

2009-10-16T02:38:00.000-05:00

Transforming Theolgy has a fascinating interview with theologian Delwin Brown. I must admit I've never heard of him before this. That is unfortunate, because I enjoyed watching him speak on the following questions:

Why does theology matter?
What is truth?
Why should I be a Christian and not a humanist?
How can you hold to Christian particularity without becoming absolutist or running into relativism?
What is the biggest weakness of progressive theology?
What does God's future mean for our present?
What did God do in Christ that we couldn't do for ourselves?
Whose problem is sin?
What is your favorite film?

I admit I was a bit surprised with where he went with original sin, but overall a good interview.

An Interview with Del Brown from J. Ryan Parker on Vimeo.

Video: "The Price of Silence"

2009-10-15T17:24:00.001-05:00

I just came across this on John's blog (thanks for the following, John!). It's brilliant!

New Q&A Site for ECF-Net

2009-10-15T17:09:00.000-05:00

My friend Gnarf just put together a StackExchange Q&A site for WoW called EpicAdvice. It's very cool. Since the StackExchange platform is in beta and free, I decided to put one together for ECF-Net.

The Evolving Christian Faith Network Q&A page.

The StackExchange platforms is very community driven. I've snagged a TED vid for the ECF-Net blog entitled "Clay Shirkey on Institutions vs. Collaboration" that may help if the idea is difficult to grasp. Basically, it is for the community, by the community. As people gain standing in the community, they are able to do more things (such as edit posts). The more the community trusts someone (based on the quality of their interaction), the more power the community gives them.

This is an experiment. Its longevity may be determined by whether I can afford to keep it up once the beta ends and StackExchange starts charging. Hopefully, it takes a while before that begins, and I am able to gather enough people for the site to become self-sustaining.

X-posted: Eclectic Mass.

TED: Clay Shirky on Institutions vs. Collaboration

2009-09-19T20:28:00.000-05:00

I came across this TED talk recently. It does a good job of portraying the cultural shift that I'm working with. Watch, and then consider the implications for the future of "Christian community."

Lewis Black on the Old Testament

2009-08-13T18:01:00.001-05:00

It seems that everyone on the face of the earth has seen this but me. Regardless, I'm posting it here. Humor is an important part of theological inquiry. It keeps us from taking ourselves too seriously.

American Psychological Association Takes a Stand Against Repairative Therapy

2009-08-05T23:38:00.000-05:00

Again and again, the bigoted perspective that calls homosexuality a sin in the eyes of God has reminded us that the American Psychological Association (APA) hasn't said that homosexuality is necessarily genetic. Okay, so that means that there are also social factors at work in tandem with genetics. This would not be surprising.

The biggest issue in the reminder is their approach toward gays and lesbians that follows. Since the sinful impulses toward homosexual sex can be replaced with holy impulses toward the opposite sex, evangelical/fundamentalist psychologists feel justified in leading gays and lesbians struggling with sexual identity to programs that help them overcome their sinful (sic.) nature. Recent developments within the APA distinctly threaten that position.

Article: "Psychologists repudiate gay-to-straight therapy"

It's about time. It is well known the psychological damage "reparative therapy" does to human beings. It is immoral and destructive, and in some cases life-threatening or life-ending. I recognize that part of the framework from which a psychologist must operate is her or his belief system, even if that is a form of fundamentalism. Yet, I believe that psychologists need to be evaluated as to whether they are capable of operating in the psychological field ethically. This evaluation needs to includes their ability to suspend their own theological judgement of right and wrong in order to ask what is best for the patient. If those are their beliefs, then they need to be held accountable for effect that those beliefs have on the health and wellbeing of their patients. I'm glad the APA has taken this stand.

And, note that the vote was 125-4. That's not even close to "debatable" within the community.

Peter Rollins on Entering the Wisdom of the Judeo-Christian Tradition

2009-07-05T05:09:00.000-05:00

A few years ago I read Peter Rollins' How (Not) to Speak of God. Ever since, I have been a fan. The stuff he does is parallel to the work I am trying to do with Eclectic Mass. Here's a glimpse into what he's all about.

By the way, I snagged this from a new blog I just discovered called Progression of Faith. There's some good stuff over there. I recommend it.

Is Waterboarding Torture?

2009-05-25T12:56:00.001-05:00

"Oh, don't be afraid of a little water." I remember my mom saying that to me when I used "it's raining out" as an excuse to not do something in the yard, like pick things up. Apparently, there are those out there who like to say the same thing about waterboarding. Maybe it's not unlike a little extra water hitting you in the shower. And it's a controlled environment, so it's not really dangerous. Moreover, if you know that it's going to end, all one has to do is endure a little discomfort for a spell.

That's radiohost Mancow's stance. Or at least it used to be. In order to "prove" that waterboarding isn't torture, he allowed himself to be waterboarded. After six seconds, he changed his tune. (I would link to the video on that page directly, but for some reason it keeps registering as "page not found.")

Well, maybe this isn't really a legitimate test of whether waterboarding is torture. After all, it's not like Mancow has been trained to resist interrogation. That's why I've also added the link to a Jessie Ventura spot on Larry King. Ventura has been trained, and he's very clear that not only is waterboarding torture, it's also dangerous.

It turns out that it's easier to say that waterboarding is not torture when one hasn't experienced it. But once one has been hit in the face with that raw experience, something changes. No longer are we able to distance ourselves from the madness, thus insulating ourselves. Immersion forces us to identify with the other. And once the power of identification claims us, it's amazing how our perspectives change.

Stats on Torture Poll Reveal More About How Evangelical Christian Education Impedes Moral and Spiritual Development

2009-05-15T07:56:00.000-05:00

Evangelical Christians are more inclined to support torture than any other group the Pew Institute surveyed.

I am aghast.

I knew conservative evangelicalism had serious issues, but I guess I needed to see the stats on something as extreme as this for the significance of how bad it is to sink in a bit more.

In this podcast, I'll reflect on James' words (2.18b, 26) and their significance for this. Before listening to the podcast, I ask that you look at the following articles:

The Atlantic, "Pew: Church-Goers Like Torture More."

The Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, "The Religious Dimensions of Torture Debate"

New York Times: "Spanish Court Weighs Inquiry on Torture for 6 Bush-Era Officials"

Another relevant passage from the Christian Testament that comes to mind:

"Then [The Son of Man] will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.' Then they will answer and say, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?' He will answer them, 'Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.' And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life." (Matthew 25.41-46)

Once done listening to the podcast, I encourage readers/listeners to see what Philip Zimbardo had to say about "How People Become Monsters...or Heroes" at TED (below).

Listen to the Podcast: Evangelical Christianity and Torture

CAUTION: The TED talk contains images of a graphic nature.

For those who want more, there was an interesting perspective on all of this on Gus DiZerega's blog, with relevant links.

Special thanks go to SSG who created the new music for the podcast.

What is Christianity?

2009-05-13T20:29:00.000-05:00

In case you've missed it, I haunt Gus DiZerega's blog. There, Thora proposed that,

To be a christian does not automatically necessitate such beliefs as original sin, a male God, or the exclusive salvation of christ-followers. To claim so indicates a misunderstanding of the faith.

To lock either christianity or paganism in a box is to diminish it, and to deny syncretic integration is to deny the whole history of religion.

To this DiZerega responded,

I mean this question quite sincerely - what do you take to be the irreducible core of Christianity? That without which one cannot be a Christian and the minimium one must hold or practice in order to be one?

Of course I couldn't pass this up. Here's my answer to the question.

I argue that being (“becoming” is more accurate) Christian is about participating in the Spirit of Christ. As such it needs to be understood primarily as a dynamic calling, rather than as an identification with a static, institutionalized religion. A Christian spiritual path pays special attention to Jesus (Christianity’s primary symbol) as it winds through life. Christian community forms around arguments regarding the meaning of their central symbol, with different communities arriving at different answers and wrestling with different questions.

What I propose is neither an individualist nor a communal understanding; neither a religiously dogmatic nor a secularized understanding. Accordingly, specific beliefs are less important than actively (or passively) interacting (whether playing or wrestling) with the Christ encountered in liminal experiences.

Reflection: Christian Wicca, Part 3

2009-04-28T19:01:00.000-05:00

Pittman has made some statements to which I feel a need to respond.

The religious teachings, principles, and faith in Jesus Christ are not the concepts from which Christian Wiccans are fleeing; instead, it is the cold heart of the Organized Church and the absence of love of a Heavenly Mother. (pp. 8-9)

In mainstream Christianity, the feminine aspect of the Divine does not exist. (p. 45)

There is some truth to these statements. However, to take them at face value is unfair (at the least) to (not so) recent theological endeavors.

Conservative evangelical theology accepts that the Bible identifies God as Father as does trinitarian theology, and therefore so do they. A few years ago I was at an Emergent conference in San Diego. A panel of three Christian scholars were fielding the issue of the divine feminine. The evangelical scholar asserted that the feminine was as much a part of God as the masculine. Another scholar pressed him on the issue and said, "then you have no problems calling God Mother, Daughter, Spirit." The evangelical replied, "I think we should lean on traditional formulas." So, even amid lipservice to the feminine side of God, it seems evangelicals have a hard time actually accepting it and validating it with their liturgical language. If this is what Pittman means by "mainstream" (conservative evangelical), then she has a point.

Mainline theology, on the other hand, is far more accepting of the use of feminine language for God. Mainliners concerned about the evil of marginalization have not overlooked the power of language and the reality of sexism. Feminists such as Rosemary Radford Ruether, Carol Gilligan, and Sallie McFague have a voice and influence. It is not uncommon for mainline Christians to accept the use of Her or She for God. We recognize that calling God "He" or "She" are merely discriptors that speak metaphoircally of that which is beyond. Inasmuch as Pittman silences such a perspective in her work, she chariactures Christianity and does it an injustice.

The moderate and progressive wings of mainline Chrsitianity (the conservative wing is really conservative evangelical) have actually moved beyond the issue of the masculine and feminine of God. Moreover, we have become leery of anthropomorphizing language. So, for the last 50 years or so, a more pressing question seems to be to what extent God can be understood as "personal" or "impersonal." The shift has moved from a radical theism (God separate and out there) to various forms of panentheism (God in, with, and under; transcendent and immanent). Popular panentheist theologians include John Cobb with his process theology, Paul Tillich with his existential theology, and David Tracy with his God of the mystical, liminal experience. Other more radical theologians, such as Mark Talylor and Jack Caputo bring with them a deconstructionist bent. As theologians continue to arrive on the scene, it continues to evolve. Where it is going, we don't know. But what we can say is that such work isn't concerned with whether it is appropriate to speak of God in the feminine. The question is settled with the answer "obviously."

I would like to know whether people are more inclined to move from an evangelical Christianity toward a Christian Wicca, or whether they primarily come from mainline Christianity. If they come from evangelicalism, then perhaps she has a point about the need to connect with the feminine of God driving people away from Christianity. But I doubt that is where they are coming from. Alongside Pittman's work, I've also been reading Joyce and River Higgenbotham's ChristoPaganism: An Inclusive Path. Those they interviewed seemed to come primarily from mainline Christianity, which is not hostile to feminine imagery for God. This leads me to believe that something else is key here: the decentralized authority structure of paganism is more in tune with the postmodern family romance than is that of mainline Christianity.

I should be fair to Pittman. The reason people move from Christianity to Christian Wicca isn't a significant part of her book. My commentary doesn't reflect the significance of her work. It just so happens that she touched a hot button of mine. I felt a need to respond. After all, this is a reflection, not a review.

Mary Magdalene

2009-04-27T21:12:00.000-05:00

Standing at the empty tomb,

wanting to believe.

Devastated,

yet numb.

Weeping,

yet dried up.

Hoping,

yet crushed.

Dare I hope? The tomb is empty.

The faithful have made my faith a mockery.

The lovers have bruised my fragile heart.

The believers have filled me with doubt.

Tenaciously clinging to something --

--anything --

Why do I hang on?

How?

Why have I not yet fallen?

Could I already be damned?

But there is still hope, my bedrock.

Hope screams at me to hang on,

calls out to me to relax,

whispers I am not alone.

From behind, the glow of dawn,

and a voice which says... “Woman, you need but turn around.”

Audio: A Postmodern Family Romance

2009-04-20T23:10:00.000-05:00

I've just discovered the Yahoo Media Player. That means we now have sound!

Short of a year ago, I recorded a piece about how the family romance has changed and drawn out some of the significance of that shift for the church. It seems relevant to what we're doing here, so I thought I'd add it.

Click to listen: A Postmodern Family Romance

(Referenced: Lynn Hunt, The Family Romance and the French Revolution)

Reflection: Christian Wicca, Part 2

2009-04-16T12:35:00.000-05:00

Is prayer a form of magic? That may be the first question that arises for anyone who considers the relationship between Christianity and Wicca. And the answer: It depends on who gives you the answer.

Christian theologian Paul Tillich (arguably popularized by John Shelby Spong) divides what is commonly understood as prayer into two categories: meditation and magic. Tillich is a panentheist who understands God as the Ground of All Being. The Christian task is to open one’s self up to the Ground of Being in order to be transformed by It. We are called to participate in the Power of Being, not manipulate it. Prayers that attempt to manipulate the Power of Being in order to influence beings are not considered prayer by Tillich, but magic. Christians are called by God to be transformed into a divine image, not to attempt to recreate the world in their image. So, Tillich would answer by saying it depends on the kind of prayer being discussed.

While reading ChristoPaganism: An Inclusive Path by Joyce and River Higgenbothem, I came across an alternative view. Classical magic distinguishes between theurgy and thaumaturgy. Theurgy is magic that opens the door to communion with the divine. Thaumaturgy is magic that influences the universe according to one’s will. We have the same basic categorical distinctions. So, the witch may answer by saying yes.

I personally prefer Tillich’s understanding. I believe that prayer includes both meditation and magic. I disagree with Tillich when he says that Christians should not do magic. Humanity has a unique place in the universe. We have a responsibility to the universe to use everything in our power to nurture it. The traditional idea is that humans are called to be stewards of the earth.

Unfortunately, many Christians adhere to Tillich’s approach to appropriate prayer. Maybe it is a safer way to practice. In a mechanistic, cause and effect, scientific worldview I’m sure there are many who would not want to be seen as anti-intellectual because they believed that the universe responded to their desires.

Yet, there is a new scientific worldview that has emerged recently. According to quantum physics, our universe is participatory. We interact with it naturally and continuously on a quantum level. The way we perceive and desire affects the world around us. Influencing the universe in this way is, in a nutshell, what magic is. We do it everyday. We just don’t realize it. Human beings are wired to interact with the universe in this way.

By default, Christians do magic. The question is whether they will do it intentionally or unintentionally. As agents of divine love (that other-centered, justice-oriented, and self-giving love that is the Spirit of Christ), we need to extend the sphere of our intentional influence beyond the tactile realm. Many already do this. By praying for healing, safe passage, or a lucky break we extend our participation into the luminal dimension as well. These are all good and faithful things. We should not let the concern that we may be doing magic turn us away from them.

There are many ways to understand what happens when one asks for the grace to make a small change in the world. We can give answers that range from the mythical to the scientific, or combinations of both. I’d say it matters less what we call it, and more that we do it.

Reflection: Christian Wicca: The Trinitarian Tradition, Part 1

2009-04-15T16:22:00.000-05:00

For those who’ve missed it, the question that haunts me: “Into what is Christianity evolving?” A few years back I came across an article, “Inside the Spiritual Jacuzzi.” It highlighted how spiritual practitioners were incorporating different elements of different religions, making them their own.

This isn’t really new. That’s what ecumenism is all about in Christianity. We used to have hard and fast lines between Methodists, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, etc. Now, the traditions share freely. In multi-traditional seminaries, future pastors learn the same curriculum.

The spiritual jacuzzi of “interspirituality” (as I’ve seen it written), is really just an extension of the spirit of ecumenism. In my early-mid 20s, I came to identify as I Christian with a Taoist bent. That meant that my primary identity was that of a Christian, but I strongly resonated with Taoist spirituality. Concepts crossed the boundaries freely. The Tao that could be named wasn’t really the Tao. Humans shared positive and negative energies with each other and the universe. We are all meant to participate in the energy of the universe. Parallels may be found for these in Christianity, but for me they came from Taoism. For postmoderns like myself, the spiritual Jacuzzi is as entrenched in lived experience as television.

I’ve never checked out an intentional blend of spiritual practice, though. When I first saw the phrase “Christian Wicca,” I had to pause. On the one hand, it seemed paradoxical. Yet, on the other hand it made a strange sort of sense. I’ve only recently decided to find out more.

Thus begins my series of reflections upon Nancy Chandler Pittman’s Christian Wicca: The Trinitarian Tradition. I’ve finished the book, and there are several things I’d like to touch on. I’ll try to keep the reflections short…but this is me after all.

Green Light for Gay Marriage in Iowa

2009-04-04T21:09:00.000-05:00

It appears that Iowa has not only validated legal standing for gays and lesbians, but they have taken it a step further declaring that using the language of "marriage." According to the NYT article,

“We are firmly convinced the exclusion of gay and lesbian people from the institution of civil marriage does not substantially further any important governmental objective,” Justice Mark S. Cady wrote for the seven-member court, adding later, “We have a constitutional duty to ensure equal protection of the law.”

Furthermore,

“If gay and lesbian people must submit to different treatment without an exceedingly persuasive justification, they are deprived of the benefits of the principle of equal protection upon which the rule of law is founded,” the Supreme Court said in agreeing that the 1998 law was unconstitutional.

Iowa? Really? Wow! This is truly good news.

*insert doxology here*

Spirituality, Religion, and/or Faith

2009-04-04T21:00:00.000-05:00

I was over on Gus diZerega's blog, and have found myself in a conversation (blog.beliefnet.com//apaga...; the link feature isn't working for some reason). I thought I should flesh out how I perceive the differences and relationship between spirituality, religion, and faith.

When I think of spirituality, I think of personal experience that arises from our sense of connection with the Source of our spiritual experience. Spirituality is personal. It hinges on the experiential. At its best, it draws us continually deeper into encounter with that which we call Divine. It opens us up to the wonder that is in the universe. At its worst, it leads us to turn inward as we cease to identify with those “lesser” people who do not connect as we do, and we end up with a self-aggrandizing spiritual perspective that may not be unlike looking up from the bottom of a well.

When I think of religion, I think of a community that extends beyond our own time. It incorporates more voices and experiences than that of the one, which is articulated primarily through some form of general consensus (doctrine, dogma, teaching, rites) that forms a tradition. Even if a person isn’t “officially” part of a self-identifying community, there is a sense of participating in something “corporate” as people converse with a tradition, seeking to make sense out of experience within the context of others. The key to religion is that it incorporates its plurality of voices in conversation around shared symbols. At its best, religion helps us to identify with others and their experiences and grow into a wider sense of identification with the other. At its worst, it becomes a shallow, self-serving, and abusive power that does damage to people and potentially the world.

Faith seems to be fully identified with neither spirituality, nor religion. Instead, it playfully intermingles (or not) with both. When I think of faith, I think of the bond of trust that intimately ties us to that which is of Ultimate Concern (for the theologically minded, see Paul Tillich, The Dynamics of Faith). Faith drives us to do what we do. The stronger our faith, the stronger our bond of trust in our Ultimate Concern, the more we willingly pursue the interests of our Ultimate Concern. Significantly, one’s Ultimate Concern need not be spiritual or religious; it can be secular (for example, radical patriotism). It is the source of one’s perceived authority. At its best, it takes us beyond our comfort zones in a way that brings new life to the world around us. At its worst, it threatens to unconscionable acts in the name of Ultimacy.

While I nice and neatly categorize the above, I am aware that these categories are “functional” at best. People can have spiritual experience inside or outside of a religion. People who are religious may or may not have spiritual experiences. And faith, as already noted, may or may not play within the realms of both, or neither. Hence, the spiritual but not religious, or the spiritually religious, or the secular patriot Maybe the best way to portray how I see the three interact is with three circles, overlapping in the middle.

(x-posted: My A/Musings)

Words on God

2009-02-13T22:25:00.001-06:00

It's easy to get caught up in language. How many fights start not because people disagree with what is being said, but how it is being said? Admittedly, there are times when people use the same language to talk about different things. And at times like that, a separation of meaning is necessary. But too often people split hairs over vocabulary, perhaps because they can't stand the thought that someone else's language might be an upgrade.

The encounter: alternative words.
The reactionary emotion: feeling threatened.

Yeah, it sounds silly, but it happens. Espeicially when we bring God-language into the mix. For many, God must be spoken of in the masculine. To talk of God as "She" rocks their mental dingys. And don't even bring non-personal language into the mix, lest the boat tip right over. When I encounter people who have such rigid God-concepts, I find that use of alternative language is seen almost as an attack on God Himself. Hence, the too often aggressive reaction.

Here's my suggestion to those with rigid mental concepts of God: get over it.

Anytime we speak of the Unspeakable, we use words. Words strung together coherently becomes a language. And all language is metaphorical. The language used does not contain the essence of that being spoken about. Rather, it relays an idea, one that is meant to be grasped through experience. God-language is no different.

Whenever we use God-language, we are trying to articulate in human language our experience in this world with that which is beyond the limits of our full experience. For some people, personal language works best. For others, impersonal. I tend to beg, borrow, and steal...as long as what the words invoke resonate with my spiritual experience.

One day a couple of years back, I decided to reflect on what my favorite metaphors for God are. This is what I came up with (since modified, but only slightly):

To me, God is...
~The Life-Giving Source of Creativity~
~The Loving Way of Interpenetration~
~The Abysmally Absolute Other~

It was quite fun to do. There's actually a lot packed into those three descriptors. And they all come from my experience. It will be interesting to see what happens to that package in the years to come.

Faith/Not-Faith

2009-02-13T22:19:00.000-06:00

“It’s a matter of faith.” “According to my faith,….” “My faith is wavering.” “I’ve lost my faith.”

The word of the day is “faith.” It’s not a word that is used consistently. We might talk about losing faith in the government, having faith in humanity, or to identify one’s religious faith. It’s a good word. But it is also grossly misunderstood, especially when in reference to religion and spirituality.

So far, it seems that the evangelical community has dictated how this word is to be used. Most common usage equates “faith” with “belief.” The degree to which one has faith is revealed in the extent to which one buys into the party line. Was Mary really a virgin? Well, it’s a matter of faith. Is the Bible truthful? Well, it’s a matter of faith. Did Jesus really raise from the dead? Well, it’s a matter of faith. If one wants to have a “Christian” faith, then one’s Christian-ness is wed to the extent to which that person believes the supposed “tenets of the faith.”

A significant amount of the reaction against Christianity flows from a rejection of these tenets as unthinking and meaningless in today’s society. What I find interesting in this rejection is the complete assent to the evangelical community to define the terms of the debate. When I talk with people who reject Christianity and I ask what faith is, the dominant answer still equates faith with belief. They cannot be Christian because they don’t buy the intellectual crap that the church is selling.

As a religion that equates faith with belief, Christianity becomes charged as being an arrogant form of ignorance. Not only that, we now see a movement emerging that indicts such religion by atheists such as Sam Harris (The End of Faith), who argues that certain unreasoned beliefs are not just silly, but “intrinsically dangerous.” (44) “Throughout this book, I am criticizing faith in its ordinary, scriptural sense—as belief in, and life-orientation toward, certain historical and metaphysical propositions. (64-65) Ideologies drive people. And some ideologies clearly drive people to destroy others and the world we live in. When dangerous ideologies are wed to the absolute justification of a divine mission and embraced by power, the potential for evil becomes more imminent.

Equating faith and belief is not the only way that faith can be understood. Paul Tillich (The Dynamics of Faith) takes an existentialist approach. Personally, I don’t see myself as an existentialist, but I think this approach articulates best what “faith” really is. According to Tillich, faith is the bond of trust that ties us to our Ultimate Concern. This Ultimate Concern doesn’t have to be “God.” It can be regional (nationalism/patriotism), ideological (democracy), material (money), relational (family), or something else. One’s Ultimate Concern is really the orienting power over one’s life. Inasmuch as we promote and pursue our Ultimate Concern, we are acting faithfully, or to put it another way we are living out our faith. Significantly, Harris doesn’t seem to have a beef with those who take this existentialist approach, as “My argument, after all, is aimed at the majority of the faithful in every religious tradition, not at Tillich’s blameless parish of one.” (65)

Since I’m focusing on religious faith, the Ultimate Concern I now refer to is commonly known as “God.” In religious faith, God (or the Divine, or whatever other religious language one might use) is the orienting power over the lives of the faithful. For the spiritual, there is depth to this world beyond the limits of our mundane experience that bears Ultimate Significance for existence. The spiritual quest is to connect more fully with that divine Depth (which Tillich likes to refer to as our Ground of Being). As we become more in touch with the Power of Being, we become more than we already are. We are transformed. As we grow, the false barriers that we have erected to separate and protect ourselves from others and the world we live in begin to fall, and we find that we have become more concerned with not only our own wellbeing, but also the wellbeing of others. In short, as we are more and more apprehended by the Power of Being, we find we naturally participate more positively in the being of all existence. This positive, life-giving transformation is the fruit of our connection to the Divine, or the mark of faith.

Note that the way that I just described faith does not equate faith with belief. This is not to say that there is no connection. Our beliefs reflect our understanding of our faith experience. It is the way that we talk about the relationship between the Ultimate and ourselves. But we must be careful not to confuse the language we use to express our faith with faith itself. Indeed, sometimes there is a disconnect between the language that is passed on to people and the faith that they manifest in day to day life.

Let’s look for a moment at the importance of distinguishing belief and faith with an example: the story of the virgin birth. According to the basic storyline, God impregnated the Virgin Mary, who gave birth to Jesus. Simple enough. And the “faith=belief” (or what I will now call the “dogmatic”) approach takes us in a completely different direction than the “faith=trust” (or what I will now call the “spiritual”) approach.

The dogmatic approach looks at the story and turns it into an important belief, without which one is seen as less faithful. The approach to faith here is one of “comprehension.” The authoritative text of Christianity is the Bible. The faithful comprehend the teachings of the text. When the authoritative texts are at odds with other sources of information, it is a test of faith. In this case, basic biology points out the physical impossibility of a “virgin birth,” and the response is to say that one should just accept the dogma as a matter of faith. As long as one continues to give assent to the dogma of the “miracle,” one can still remain a Christian. And as long as one wants to remain a Christian, one must be willing to give authoritative assent to the “tenets of the faith,” despite evidence to the contrary.

The spiritual approach is vastly different. Because faith is understood as our relational bond of trust with our Ground of Being, spirituality takes a holistic angle. As a result, it moves beyond asking what the story says to what the story means. Intellectually, it asks about the makeup of the original story. This story is a narrative written by a first-century community to articulate the significance of Jesus for their context. The spiritual approach listens to the biblical scholars who point out that the narrative of Jesus virgin birth rivaled the imperialistic narrative that lauded the virgin birth of Augustus as a sign of divine favor upon Rome. In short, the story of the virgin birth is a myth, not an historical event. Jesus was not born of a virgin (a biological impossibility), but through human conception like every other human who ever lived. Yet, the rejection of the historicity of the event does not vitiate the story. Its significance (social, political, and religious protest against injustice) remains. This significance speaks, and draws the attentive into the divine reality known as the Kingdom of God. Those who hearken are transformed into heralds, agents of a new way of being in the world that bears an indictment against oppression and dehumanization by the powerful. Because it is a way of being rather than simple acceptance of a belief system, it carries a very real risk. Inasmuch as we embark upon the path of other-centered, justice-oriented, and self-giving love, we find we are compelled to sacrifice our own wellbeing for the wellbeing of others. But in doing so, we find more fully the joy of being human.

When we talk about “religion,” we’re talking about the structure (beliefs and practices) a particular religious community gives to its orientation around primary symbols (for Christians, it’s Jesus). When we’re talking about “spirituality,” we’re talking about the personal, transformative participation of a seeker who is orienting his or her life toward God. Just like belief and faith, religion and spirituality are not the same. It is possible to be religious but not spiritual (one who buys in to a belief system but does not manifest transformation into a more healthy human being). And it is possible to be spiritual but not religious (one who manifests transformation into a more healthy human being, but does not buy into a belief system). The former illustrates the active danger of equating belief with faith.

Let’s look once again at the dogmatic approach to the virgin birth. “Faith” says it must be accepted as a miracle. A rational approach says that it is impossible. In order to accept the virgin birth as “a matter of faith,” one must first be willing to turn off one’s own brain. One must be willing to stop thinking critically. One must accept without serious questioning “just because.” Humans have brains. Humans are meant to use their brains. To require or even expect people to turn off their brains does active damage to them and their human development. It takes minimal brainpower to recognize that human biology (like evolution) is a fact. First-century people did not make babies without doing the humpty. Indeed, once a person even begins to turn on his or her brain, the assertion that the virgin birth could even be possible becomes a ridiculous belief, perhaps even worthy of laughter when the belief is spouted off by a supposedly healthy adult.

It is important to note that healthy spirituality leads to healthy human development. Whenever religion does damage to human development, it cannot be considered authentically spiritual. Moreover, inasmuch as it claims divine approval for itself, it deserves the label "demonic." This is why i stand with those like atheist Sam Harris who decry certain types of religion as a dangerous force in this world. and I stand with him not in spite of my Christian faith, but because of it.

1989 Means Something

2009-02-13T22:04:00.000-06:00

Tonight I heard Walter Wink speak. I was a bit disappointed because I had hoped for something new. Everything came out of his book Jesus and Nonviolence. Nontheless, it was a cool thing to see sucn an influential figure in person.

Near the end was the part that struck me most. He said something like, "After 1989, when there were many successful nonviolent revolutions, noone can ever say again that nonviolence doesn't work. Indeed, nonviolence is the only thing that is working." I've been pondering that ever since I heard it. And I think I will be chewing on that one for a while to come.

Walter Wink is Coming to Town

2009-02-04T11:23:00.000-06:00

Now this is something I can get excited about. I know that Second Congregational Church (Rockford, IL) has has J.S. Spong speak a couple years before I arrived to town, but they haven't done anything like this since.

The following is from the presbytery newsletter:

Walter Wink is one of the leading theologians and authors on nonviolence of our time. He developed the scholarship and concepts on "The Myth of Redemptive Violence" and "Jesus' Third Way of Nonviolence" and has written a number of highly respected books, including The Powers that Be, Engaging the Powers and more. He was involved in developing the nonviolent responses to South Africa's apartheid regime. He is Professor Emeritus of Biblical Interpretation at Auburn Theological Seminary in New York City. Previously, he was a parish minister and taught at Union Theological Seminary in New York City.

He will speak at 7 p.m., Friday, February 13 at Second Congregational Church, 318 N. Church Street in Rockford. The program is cosponsored by Emmanuel Episcopal Church, First Presbyterian Church-Rockford, 2nd Congregational Church, Rockford Peace & Justice, The Lutherans in the North Conference, Lutheran Church of the Good Shepherd, the Presbytery of Blackhawk through its Mission Strategies and Resources Board, and Rockford Urban Ministries. The program is free and open to the public. For more information call Rockford Urban Ministries 815-964-7111.

I hope it's not too late notice for people to go. I can think of several who would like to be there.

Challenging the Powers that Be

2005-07-06T12:10:00.000-05:00

The religious right is not the only religious voice in America. It is about time to amplify the alternative Christian voice.

The United Church of Christ is not officially behind gay marriage: "God is Still Speaking, and the UCC is Celebrating".

Many church leaders are continuing to call for an end to the war: "NCC Group Calls for End of 'Dishonorable' War." A link to the statement can be found on the NCC home page for those who would like to sign it.

Today's SojoMail

2005-06-30T10:13:00.000-05:00

This SojoMail arrived in my in-box today (SojoMail comes from Sojourners Magazine. You can sign up for free e-mails at their website.

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"The Supreme Court got it right on religion"
by David Batstone

This week the Supreme Court issued two controversial judgments on the display of religious monuments in public places. The two 5-4 rulings allowed the Ten Commandments to remain as part of an exhibit of monuments on the grounds of the Texas statehouse but barred postings of the same biblical text in two Kentucky courthouses.

The Supreme Court baffles me at the moment. At least the unpredictability of its judgments makes for highly suspenseful drama. Regardless, the majority opinion got it right this week. I readily admit to my detractors that we are dealing in shades of gray here. What I would like to draw attention to is the intention behind each decision.

The justices clearly affirmed the valuable contribution that religion makes to civic life. The Ten Commandments monument on the grounds of the Texas Capitol is one of 17 monuments and 21 historical markers that adorn a public park that envelopes the Capitol. Symbolically, the exhibit celebrates that religion has shaped American history and merits a place smack-dab in the middle of the public square.

"Of course, the Ten Commandments are religious," Chief Justice Rehnquist noted in his comments bolstering the majority opinion. He then added the linchpin: "Simply having religious content or promoting a message consistent with a religious doctrine does not run afoul of the Establishment Clause."

Some secularists are bent on stripping the role of religion in public life, of course. But they are dead wrong when they take the "separation of church and state" to mean that people of faith should keep their religious sentiments hidden away in the privacy of a closet in their home.

No Christian, Jew, Muslim, or other person of faith should feel coerced to suppress their faith in the workplace, at the social security administration office, or at school. Get over it, secularists, "G--" has never been a taboo subject in American society and never will be. People are free to show up in public wearing their faith on their sleeves.

The Supreme Court ruling against the Kentucky monuments had a quite different intention. In Kentucky, monuments displaying the Ten Commandments were posted alone by orders of county governments. They added secular documents only after a suit was filed - evidence that the government's motivation was religious, the Court said.

The key question in each case hinged on whether the display of religious monuments violates the First Amendment's prohibition against an official "establishment" of religion. The state, in other words, cannot identify itself with a particular religion. American legal tradition thereby protects the integrity of citizens to pursue their own religious traditions without the interference of the state.

Many Christian conservatives interpreted the Kentucky decision as yet another expression of hostility to their faith, and a deviation from the intent of the Constitution's framers. They operate under the assumption that "America is a Christian nation." But they are as wrongheaded as the secularists. I, for one, don't want the government to start speaking for God or claiming God's blessing, even if it is my faith tradition being referenced. Why would any devout Christian or Jew want a county courthouse to equate its application of law to the deep moral justice that the Ten Commandments demands?

In sum, the intention of the Court's decision was to undergird the free expression of religion, yet prevent the association of the state with a sole religion. Lest we lose ourselves in the application of law to these two particular cases, can we at least come to agreement regarding the importance of this distinction for American civic life?

Canada Moving Toward Acceptance of Gay Marriage

2005-06-29T13:25:00.000-05:00

For those of us who promote the Christological right of full human inclusion, this is big news. I'm glad to see that advancement is being made north of the border, even if it appears as though our own U.S. government is not.

"Canada is on its way to becoming the third country in the world to openly embrace homosexual marriage after the House of Commons gave its final approval last night to a bill that changes the definition to include same-sex couples."

Walter Wink, "Homosexuality and the Bible"

2005-06-24T02:27:00.000-05:00

Biblical scholar Walter Wink has written a significant article entitled "Homosexuality and the Bible", the first version of which appeared in The Christian Century in 1979.

For those who like to read, I highly suggest the "Powers" trillogy.

Book Review

2005-06-23T22:30:00.000-05:00

Jim Wallis (founder of Sojourner's Magazine) has written the bestseller, God's Politics: Why the Right is Wrong and the Left Doesn't Get It. Here is a review by Dr. Robert Boehlke for the Witherspoon Society.

What if...and No One Cared?

2005-06-14T10:03:00.000-05:00

The following article was found posted on another blog. The original can be found on the site for the Witherspoon Society, a Presbyterian organization revolving around social consciousness and transformative action.

Admittedly, the following article is old, but its significance remains. "What if...and no one cared?" indeed.

(Following the article is the actual decalogue, as posted by the Witherspoon Society.)

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A new "decalogue" for peace [4-18-02]
By David Waters

What if leaders of the world's major religions got together one day and denounced all religious violence? What if they unanimously agreed to make this plain, clear and bold statement to the world? "Violence and terrorism are opposed to all true religious spirit and we condemn all recourse to violence and war in the name of God or religion." It could change the world. It could save the planet.
At the very least, it would be big news, wouldn't it? Apparently not.

More than 200 leaders of the world's dozen major religions did get together Jan. 24 in Assisi, Italy. Maybe you missed the story about it the next day. Most newspapers didn't carry it. And it was hidden inside many of those that did. There was a lot of other news that day. The Enron hearings opened in Washington. John Walker Lindh made his first court appearance.

It's no wonder the largest meeting of world religious leaders in history couldn't even make the front page. Pope John Paul II and a number of cardinals were at the meeting. So was Bartholomew I, spiritual leader of all Orthodox Christians. So were a dozen Jewish rabbis, including some from Israel. So were 30 Muslim imams from Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Pakistan. So were dozens of ministers representing Baptists, Lutherans, Anglicans, Methodists, Presbyterians, Pentecostals, Disciples of Christ, Mennonites, Quakers, Moravians, The Salvation Army and the World Council of Churches.

So were dozens of monks, gurus and others representing Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs and Zoroastrians and native African religions. They ignored the personal and political risk of attending such a high-profile gathering.

They convened and talked and prayed. They unanimously agreed to condemn "every recourse to violence and war in the name of God or religion." They also said, "No religious goal can possibly justify the use of violence by man against man." And that "Whoever uses religion to foment violence contradicts religion's deepest and truest inspiration." They called their statement the Assisi Decalogue for Peace. It consists of 10 mutual commitments to work for peace and justice in the world, including this one:

"We commit ourselves to stand at the side of those who suffer poverty and abandonment, speaking out for those who have no voice, and to working effectively to change these situations." On March 4, the Pope sent a copy of the Decalogue to all of the world's heads of state.

Maybe you missed the story. It didn't even make the newspapers the next day, hidden inside or not. There was a lot of other news that day.

Seven American soldiers were killed in Afghanistan. Israeli troops killed 17 people in the West Bank. Mike Tyson got a license to box.

What if leaders of the world's major religions got together one and denounced all religious violence--and no one cared?

The author: David Waters is a columnist who writes about religion for the Memphis, Tennessee Commercial Appeal and appears in syndication.)

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Decalogue of Assisi for Peace

1. We commit ourselves to proclaiming our firm conviction that violence and terrorism are incompatible with the authentic spirit of religion, and, as we condemn every recourse to violence and war in the name of God or of religion, we commit ourselves to doing everything possible to eliminate the root causes of terrorism.

2. We commit ourselves to educating people to mutual respect and esteem, in order to help bring about a peaceful and fraternal coexistence between people of different ethnic groups, cultures and religions.

3. We commit ourselves to fostering the culture of dialogue, so that there will be an increase of understanding and mutual trust between individuals and among peoples, for these are the premise of authentic peace.

4. We commit ourselves to defending the right of everyone to live a decent life in accordance with their own cultural identity, and to form freely a family of his own.

5. We commit ourselves to frank and patient dialogue, refusing to consider our differences as an insurmountable barrier, but recognizing instead that to encounter the diversity of others can become an opportunity for greater reciprocal understanding.

6. We commit ourselves to forgiving one another for past and present errors and prejudices, and to supporting one another in a common effort both to overcome selfishness and arrogance, hatred and violence, and to learn from the past that peace without justice is no true peace.

7. We commit ourselves to taking the side of the poor and the helpless, to speaking out for those who have no voice and to working effectively to change these situations, out of the conviction that no one can be happy alone.

8. We commit ourselves to taking up the cry of those who refuse to be resigned to violence and evil, and we are desire to make every effort possible to offer the men and women of our time real hope for justice and peace.

9. We commit ourselves to encouraging all efforts to promote friendship between peoples, for we are convinced that, in the absence of solidarity and understanding between peoples, technological progress exposes the world to a growing risk of destruction and death.

10. We commit ourselves to urging leaders of nations to make every effort to create and consolidate, on the national and international levels, a world of solidarity and peace based on justice.

S. Mark Heim Articles on Religious Pluralism and Atonement Theory

2005-05-27T21:54:00.000-05:00

Part of the purpose of this blog is to present resources for doing theology. Sometimes, that will come in the form of articles. A great place to do an article search is www.findarticles.com.

One author if distinct interest is S. Mark Heim. Here are links to a couple of works he has in the archives of Theology Today and The Christian Century. Both are two-parters.

These two articles discuss the issue of religious pluralism and the effects is has on the Christian understanding of “salvation.” Heim comes at this from a distinctly trinitarian perspective.

~~Dreams Fulfilled: Religious Ends Interpreted by Different Religions—Critical Essay
~~A Trinitarian View of Religious Pluralism: God’s Diversity—Analysis

The following discusses atonement theory. Something I want to note in advance is that while there is an official orthodox Christology which is trinitarian in nature, the church has never identified one theory of atonement as singularly authoritative. In fact, throughout history, there have been several versions that have pulled significant weight.

~~Christ Crucified
~~Visible Victim: Christ’s Death

My first introduction to the work of Heim was through his book Salvations: Truth and Difference in Religion. It is work I highly recommend.

"Into What is Christianity Evolving?"

2005-05-25T13:31:00.000-05:00

Many scholars argue that postmodernity has birthed a new "Copernican revolution" in the field of theology. As is the case with all intellectual revolutions, what was once believed to be "true" becomes no longer tenable in light of the new living experience. Throughout history, such revolutions have brought about great change in religion. Because religion is inseparable from the human condition, it changes as the human condition changes. All religion evolves. Christianity is no exception.

The Evolving Christian Faith Network (ECF-Net) exists for those coming from a liberal-mailine tradition who want to engage the challenge of postmodernity. The reason for this focus is the uniqueness of that tradition's questions. For example, many theologians coming from the conservative-evangelical tradition are struggling with the such issues as the place of women in leadership and the validity of "openness" theology (which I have heard described as an evangelical version of process theology). Meanwhile, those coming from the liberal-mainline tradition are used to women pastors, and revisionist theologies (such as liberationist, process, and post-liberal) are commonplace dialogue partners. Differing frameworks lead to differing questions.

Different questions require different approaches to inquiry and often lead to different answers. Because postmodernity is so pervasive, both traditions must face the overarching question "Into what is Christianity evolving?" But, that very question means something different to those sibling traditions. And as a result, their answers will be as different as their journeys.

If we were to try to collaborate in this endeavor while ignoring our differences, then the framework would be a de-valuing one. Our uniqueness would not be able to be fully utilized for the task at hand. Moreover, to do so would bring a degree of conflict that would consume the energy that should be devoted to theological investigation. This approach would prove counter-productive.

But it would be just as counter-productive to segregate ourselves from each other and engage our quests with an air of disregard for our sibling's struggles and accomplishments. Such ego-centricity would dangerously drive us down the path to self-absorbed isolation. Any quest for a relevant theology must accept the diversity of our reality.

When we are open to dialogue with the "other" we are open to both affirmation and challenge. We are able to remain focused on our own quest, while still being able to allow that quest to be informed from the outside. Therefore, ECF-Net is not meant to exist in a theological vacuum.

Rather, ECF-Net is meant to be a place for those coming from a mainline-liberalism to explore the significance of postmodernity for that tradition's understanding of Christianity, to be able to articulate that understanding (which would be a "revisionist" theology), and to bring that voice distinctly into dialogue with our emerging sibling-movement coming from the conservative-evangelical tradition.

Yes, the path ahead will be a rough one. But I believe it will be fruitful. The future is open. Let us see what we can do with it.