Drastically Different Themes, Same Source

So I recently read two vastly different books that both extensively referenced Christian and Hebrew scripture to espouse two completely antithetical viewpoints. Of course, this is nothing new. Theologians, religious commentators, preachers, teachers, rabbi’s, clergy and laypersons alike all quote scripture to back up their respective viewpoints on a regular basis.

Yet the stark difference in the two books made me step back and reaffirm for myself what many others have: that in any religion or philosophy in which scriptures are held to be canononical, inspired, important, revered, foundational or simply useful, there comes a point when you have to choose which overall thematic consistency you wish to stick with and affirm. That is, if you wish to stay with the scriptures in the first place. Saying that you do wish to keep some grounding with them, you have to decide and I think (like John Dominic Crossan mentioned in “God and Empire”) that it comes down to peace or war; love or judgment; common ground or divide and conquer.

The two books I’m writing about are drastically different in every sense of the word: they were written in different decades, by different personalities, in different styles, from different worldviews, from different religious doctrines and perspectives yet both claim absolute Christianity. One is “The Sovereignty of God” by Arthur Pink. It was written in 1918 as a treatise. It’s writer is very confrontational throughout, claiming most of the religious folks of his day have completely lost their way and turned to a fake, watered down and irrelevant God. His convictions lie in an absolute controlling, all powerful, intimately involved God who selected a few certain souls to save from hell before creation was even formed and who has laid out every breath of every person and every turn of every event before it occurs. For Pink, this is the only possible interpretation of God in light of scripture as he reads it. For Pink, the utmost important thing to realize is that God is mighty, powerful and deserving of deep reverence, fear and awe. Every thing that happens to an individual is for a reason known only to God; humankind is base, vile and created from the “polluted” ground and deserves nothing but punishment and hell–which most of them will get since only a small “elect” are destined for “salvation.” For Pink, the entire purpose of life is to preach this truth and await judgment hoping to be one of those elect knowing that no man truly knows who is among that number. Pink’s treatise is early 20th century hyper-Calvinism; he acknowledges that term with a scoff but never denies it and never delivers anything but it. He’s not crafted anything new, nor does he claim to. He claims it’s the original message of scripture that has been watered down, but more accurately it hearkens back to John Calvin and further back to Augustine. “The Sovereignty. of God” isn’t my typical reading, but it was recommended to me by someone who espouses the same view with full compassion and sincerity today. It’s also a popular theology for many young Christians now, folks influenced by writers like John Piper.
The other book is “The Irresistible Revolution.” It’s not a treatise, more of a memoir in the making. The writer, Shane Claiborne, is a young evangelical yet also a very “radical’ person in the sense of modern Christianity. He is uncomfortable with the term without amending it with the term “ordinary”– thus “ordinary radical,” because he doesn’t wish to puff himself up. He writes of working with Mother Teresa in Calcutta, assisting in leprosy care there near the end of her life. He writes of flying to Iraq to spend time with children and be an “advocate for peace” when the US was bombing them heavily. He writes of the lawsuits he’s been forced to defend himself in for sleeping on the streets, communal sharing, giving free food away to his neighborhood, etc. Claiborne takes the idea of Jesus to “give up all and follow me” literally and tries to do that as much as possible with the hope that he and all around him will have enough to get by.

Although written 80 years apart, both of these styles of thinking have been present for hundreds of years. One sees the thematic thrust of scripture to be that of radical compassion and social justice: protect the stranger and the outsider; love your neighbor; honor God. Turn the other cheek; go the extra mile, if you have two coats give one away, advocate for a world in which the last become first, the wine never runs out at the wedding banquet and everyone is welcome at the table. This type of theology has been present for a long time; it was called “the Social Gospel” in the 1920s and “Progressive Christianity” in our own day (among other more deriding terms in both cases). The other theology is one of judgment, vengeance and damnation. We are vile; we deserve punishment; Jesus paid the debt for some of us; the rest will burn in hell. Care for the world in this theology is relegated to getting folks into church and that’s it–for extreme opinions in this theology even that is suspect since God can call strangers to church so we wait for them and if they come then we care for them–but not before, because the world turned its back on Christ so we must do the same to the world.
Well, you can thoroughly back up either view with scripture…maybe not correctly, but you can throw out and string together verses, phrases and doctrinal interpretations to support either view, and although folks on the other side can refute those verses with carefully selected verses of their own, it can become a circular argument and never stop. If it could be decisively argued, it wouldn’t keep coming back into popularity in certain circles.

Obviously, whether you like to admit it or not, eventually your opinion and worldview within a faith tradition must incorporate things outside of just the scriptures themselves; after all, all the books in scripture were written by different authors with different historical and cultural perspectives, at different times, in different styles, in different languages. They were assembled later, far after the fact. They were translated through multiple languages. If you want to grasp your head around what you believe in their regards, you have to consult historical criticism, personal revelation, faith history, denominational and religious context, modern discovery and ultimately your own intuition, intelligence and heart.

You ultimately have a choice…does your heart tell you the thrust of Religion should be forgiveness, love, compassion, mercy and work that leads toward justice for fellow humankind and honor of God? Or does your heart tell you Religion is about following the rules to the T, discerning that you are indeed correct in a multitude of issues and ensuring you are part of the one “real” in-group rather than part of the out-group? Only one of these viewpoints is compatible to involving all and working with all for the betterment of the world and all people, all religions. The other is very exclusive and has room for but a few. Of course, one view is highly concerned with making this world better while the other is best suited for closing your eyes and waiting for eternity, hoping hell doesn’t await. That’s psychologically difficult on a multitude of levels…

As Serious as we Wanna Be…

With Religion, there is much we take only as seriously as we are comfortable with.

 I argue that the heart of the gospel in a modern Christian sense is simply: love God, love your neighbor. I further argue this by saying that the ideal modern church can be thought of as a “social justice hub.”

 Recently I began struggling with the real heart of the gospel and the major aspects a life, career or calling in regards to it plays out. How do we love God best? By loving our neighbors, our fellow humans. How do we best love our neighbors? By acting. The “Kingdom of God” is what Jesus stressed—if we follow him, we are called to break it into present-day existence. “It is at hand.” It was then, it is now.

The Kingdom is an idealized life in which there’s always more wine at the wedding party, always a spot at the table for the “least of these,” always forgiveness, always compassion, always truth. We bring this kingdom about by doing work that seeks to set things “how they ought to be.” Work that encourages the depressed, inspires the despised, builds up the weak, makes the last become first.

Okay. Flowery language. But to get to the heart of what I’m really getting at here, I’ll say that most of us don’t really heed the call. I’m not talking about doctrine. We can argue about historicity, literality and metaphor. Whether the scriptures, the doctrines, the creeds or the church history of the gospel is factual, metaphorical, mythical or actual is pretty much irrelevant to actually “heeding the call.” We can also argue about sin: what qualifies as sin, what qualifies as lifestyle, what is ingrained, what is chosen, what is dependant on context, place, time and situation. We can argue about universality and inclusion; whether our mission is THE mission or merely a shade of the mission.

 I’ve written at length and probably will continue to do as such regarding much of these issues, but for what I’m talking about here, yet again, these things are pretty much irrelevant to “heeding the call.” What brings me to “the call,” that I stress we all seem to ignore is admission of my repetitive action of the same.

See, to digress for a minute, I tend to think of 3 aspects of a religious life, career or calling. 1) Worship 2) Action 3) Education Taking myself for example, I’m most comfortable with the “education” aspect. I can read, write, talk, debate, consider and think about religion and spirituality ad infinitum. After all, my planned profession is that of a teacher. I hope to someday teach world religion, theology and philosophy in a collegiate setting. I enjoy classes and subjects on these topics from a student perspective. I like books that discuss these things, I write about these things in various hackneyed ways. As far as the worship sector goes, it’s where I was first introduced to these concepts and ideas years ago as a child. It’s a sector I detracted from, only to find myself coming back to years later from a slightly different angle. It’s the sector with which I am growing in and struggling with to find the right meaning, balance and use of. Then, there’s Action. The more I read and learn in the Education sector, the more I worship in the worship sector, the more the already obvious becomes even more so. The real area for Christ- following is Spiritual Action and Engagement.

The “work of the kingdom” plays out in the real world. If we aren’t doing our part there we’re really just puffing ourselves up purposelessly. So, I try to devote time to that sector. From choosing student-work that I feel ties into social engagement to writing and working for needed social change, to volunteering time and money (in my case very little_) to appropriate organizations. The extent I do these things to is never the extent I should actually do though. I can even tie it in with the other aspects. For example, a book I’m slowly piecing together deals with calling on the worship sector to do more in the action sector (broadly speaking). So I use the area I’m comfortable in (education) to call on one sector to increase efforts in the other.

 Hmmm. Really though, I have to admit I only take it all as seriously as I’m comfortable with. All it takes is to read about people like Mother Teresa, Dorothy Day, Gandhi, MLK Jr., and even folks like Claiborne (who wrote “The Irresistible Revolution”) who worked in and sought to do the full deal for me to realize how little I actually do or feel capable of doing.

Reading the gospel, we can argue about the same old historicity and debate how much we really know of the historical Jesus and what he really said. We really only have the gospel text themselves to go on. But I feel that Jesus’ call to “Sell all you have and follow me,” stands out. His words to “turn the other cheek, go the extra mile” do as well. Paul’s writing of dying to self so that Christ can be all that lives through us is really clear. For if we died to self in all actuality and let Christ alone live through us we’d sell everything, go to work for peace through sacrifice and justice through non-violence.

We’d risk everything we had to make the kingdom present now. I’ve heard friends in recent days argue that:

(1) we can’t all do that and weren’t really all called to do that. After all, Paul wrote that if you are married don’t get divorced but if you aren’t married don’t get married. So you can’t be a light to the community if there is not community and we’re all wandering around seeking to help.” To that, I answer that no, we can’t all do that and yet we are all called to do that. Working single or as a couple we can do that, but Christ realized we wouldn’t all do it. We’ve always had the choice to not listen or to walk away. Since my concept of salvation and damnation is pretty far left, my concern is not that of hell but that of not really doing what we’re called to do.

 (2) “You have to meet people where they are.” Maybe. But are we not called to lead and go where we’re called and if the people follow, great, if not, that’s okay too? Christ knew not everyone would follow. Now, if my friends recognize themselves as being the ones who said these things, please don’t feel like I’m calling you out! I see clear cut examples of how to fully marry to the spirit and work for real change, real justice, real love and the real ever present Kingdom of God. Yet I don’t abandon what I’m doing and do likewise. I have family ties; my wife wouldn’t be too keen on trekking through central America (or even East LA) on a mission of peace with me. I like my time off; I want to read a book, go to a movie, watch a baseball game, go for a swim. I like good food and drink- could I live forever eating just enough to get by? I love music—I collect records, go to concerts, argue about the greatest albums of all time. Surely that money and time could be devoted to social justice causes. I own more than one coat, more than a few pairs of shoes. I waste my share of things, from time to food. I could go on, but I won’t. The point is despite student loan and various other debt I’m blessed enough to not fear where my next meal is coming from and I’m mulling over these issues from the safety of a graduate school when a huge chunk of the world gets slim to no education. I plan to teach in a university myself where I’ll continue to address justice issues that affect the world while I myself in all hopefulness will be relatively comfortable enough to be deemed “middle class.” It seems just a shade hypocritical to me in the light of “reality.”

So what do I do? I take it as seriously as I am comfortable with. I rationalize. I think that with grace I’ll be able to call attention to the real issues in the writing that I do, that I can donate money to valuable causes, that I can volunteer a few hours a week or month and ultimately that wherever I teach I can spark a mind or two to take the plunge and do the work I was too scared to.I was talking with another friend about all of this and I said that maybe we all rationalize our religious thought as a survival mechanism. Maybe it’s not wrong to do so. Maybe it’s a vocal way of acting on an inner calling that points us in the direction we are most fit for. Perhaps our skills and the needs we can address come together in certain areas and our rationalization leads us there. Maybe it’s a survival skill. Then again, maybe it’s a cosmic hi-liter we use so that we can avoid doing what we’d really be doing if we were more devout! The call for transformative justice isn’t an easy call and it’s not one we can all take

Balance, Compromise, Action, Apathy

I hear a lot about balance and compromise lately, especially in light of the ever increasing polarized political climate we find ourselves in.

Recently, parents across the country became angry when the President wanted to address the nation’s schoolchildren via television. Right-wing parents screamed that this was an attempt to “indoctrinate” their children in “socialism” and pulled them out of class in droves. That the President only wanted to speak of the value of education and hard work was irrelevant. Then came the infamous “You lie!” shout during Obama’s health care address. Even though the point Obama was making was proven true by independent political watch groups, reform opponents refuse to deny the “liar” claim even if many of them do agree that the way it was voiced during the speech was inappropriate.

So why rehash this now? Everyone else has already mentioned these things. I noticed a few facebook friends had linked an article by Pat Buchanan to their pages, and normally I’d avoid Buchanan’s opinion at any cost but I decided to give it a read. The piece, published on the web on September the 10th is titled “Is America Coming Apart?”  Buchanan makes a few good points, rightly pointing out that when G.H.W. Bush went to a school in 1991 the left freaked out, and went on to mention that those of us on different sides of the “big issues” (like abortion, gay rights, environmental protection and conservation, etc.) tend to label our position much more nobly than our opponents label it and term their position in a much more derogatory term as well. Buchanan goes on to make various observations about cultural and political issues he feels further polarize us today. Oddly enough, he at one point laments that we’ve replaced “heroes” like Robert E. Lee with people like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. I have major problems with the idea that it’s a bad thing to replace Lee with King as a modern hero, and I find it silly that King should be considered “polarizing” when the things he stood and worked for are good for all of us, but that’s another issue altogether.

 Buchanan seems to think that we now have diversity but not unity. Those of us who feel drawn to do work that seeks to help people, to help society, to build things up and those of us with spiritual and/or religious lives, feel a need to be open, tolerant and to seek unity. But some people seem to think this means we must be more “balanced.” I follow that we should speak with respect, debate with care and love those we don’t agree with. Yet I feel it’s worth pointing out that we can’t seek peaceful balance at the cost of mediocrity or apathy. Buchanan asks “where is the unity?” in a way that suggests that we once all got along much more civilly from both sides. I grant him that with the advent of openly biased 24 hour news networks like Fox News and MSNBC, the proliferation of politics on the internet and a slew of amped up anger and judgment, things are more vocally polarized. Yet there have always been universal differences in the right and the left. If in the past those that strove to bring about equality and justice through the civil rights movement, the women’s movement and various peace movements in our country had been too concerned with peaceful balance, progress would never have been made. I stress that peace was necessary– Dr. King used pacifism and nonviolent protest to accomplish his mission. Yet the idea he should have had to “compromise” with the Alabama government without offending their beliefs that African Americans shouldn’t have the same rights as whites seems absurd.

We can have respect for others as people without compromising our beliefs on issues that are very important-take the health care debate. There are hard facts involved. The World Health Organization ranked the US 37th out of 191 on the list of all health care systems in the world in 2008. France was ranked at number 1. Yet despite this FACT, those on the right argue we have nothing to take from the system France uses and that the system they use is really worse than ours because it is “socialism,” the latest hip disparaging word used by a sector of the right that really have no comprehension of what socialism. The struggle to be bi-partisan, to reach across the aisle and to compromise in this health care debate is seemingly fruitless. There is no compromise, because those on the right don’t see a need for reform.

I struggle with knowing how to draw the line. There are people that I love and respect that I don’t see eye to eye on over many issues. Yet when it comes to speaking out on, writing about and working towards positive change and progress on these issues, I feel I can’t be overly concerned with being “balanced” if it means balancing fact, compassion, justice, hope and progress with misinformation, hysteria, prejudice, greed and selfishness. The current health care debate affects the health, wealth, well-being and security of millions of Americans. Any of us making less than $50,000 a year, even with health insurance, aren’t secure under the current system because one serious injury or illness could easily result in bankruptcy for us. Yet to speak these things is considered “polarizing.” What about the environmental issues, as Buchanan mentions? Despite conclusive and repeated studies and warnings from every major scientific mind in the world that state that unless major changes are made we will irreparably harm the planet, must we still “debate” and compromise over that as well, at the cost of all future generations? What about issues concerning women, immigrant, minority and gay rights? Must we compromise that some of these people simply do not deserve all of the rights the rest of us have?

 That ‘s where I see the urging for balance as being misguided. I wholeheartedly agree that we should speak to those on the other side of issues with care, respect and compassion. I agree we should be friends with those that share completely different political and religious ideals than us. We can always learn from them, they can always learn from us. A dialogue and a friendship can provide all of us with a better understanding of the “Other.” Besides, outside of politics and religion, surely we have plenty else to talk about with our fellow human beings in friendship. But, on these issues that affect health, justice, love and equality we must not be afraid to speak, write and work towards a better tomorrow. When facts don’t work to persuade the opposition, non-violent action and devotion might. I remind myself that, according to the Christian scriptures and ideas, even Jesus got angry. When? Anytime an issue of justice came up. Jesus loved and spoke with all, regardless of their personal sins and flaws. He befriended and cared for everyone on a human level. Yet he had no patience for any system , belief or practice that oppressed the “other.” If government, religion or marketplace devalued the rights of the poor, the different, the immigrant, the overlooked, Jesus spoke out. Most other major figures from the enduring world religions and philosophies did this as well. Would they compromise their opinion on justice so as not to trouble or offend anyone?

Definition of a Prophet

In light of the work of Dr. Cornel West ( I recently read his book “Race Matters”) and an article from a current issue of “The American Journal of Theology and Philosophy” by Gary Dorrien,  I’ve been pondering what a true “prophet” is, who some examples in our past are, and the (possible) absence of current examples in our society today.

Contrary to the perception most people have when they hear the word “prophet,” a prophet is not a fortune teller or prediction giver, at least not in a magical sense. Of course, a true prophet may well be able to tell what will happen to their current society if certain changes are not made but it’s not a parlor trick.

A person can be a prophet of rage; a prophet of justice. A prophet of truth, revelation, social gospel, love or peace. Most often a prophet will be a mixture of all of these things. Prophets may be teachers, preachers, rabbis, clerics, doctors, thinkers or writers. They may be singers, poets, artists or activists. They may be religious or irreligious. Pious or plagued by bad habits. Many prophets don’t live full lives; society has a way of using violence to remove them.

Prophets seek truth, regardless of how that truth will be received by those that hear it. Prophets are consumed with purpose, driven by genuine emotion and spirituality. Prophets have connection to the past and a vision for the future. Prophets seek the advance and fulfillment of the entire group, culture and ultimately of all people. Prophets aren’t figures confined just to ancient history and scriptures. Certainly there were figures from those sources: Abraham, Moses, Ezekiel, Elijah and Elisha, Amos, Jesus, Paul, Buddha, Muhammad (for many people), etc.  But in more recent history there have been plenty more: Gandhi, the Dali Lama, Dr. King, Malcolm X, Harvey Milk.

We need Prophetic figures, certainly. Yet we need Prophetic Movements and Prophetic Religion for those figures to emerge from (or perhaps start?).  Such a religion, church or movement calls out greed, apathy, disregard, waste, prejudice, subjugation and hatred wherever it sees it. Such a movement seeks justice, equality, love and progress everywhere. Such spirituality is more concerned with people than dogma, spiritual fulfillment than pious regulation, love rather than misplaced judgment. Of course, judgment pours forth from a prophetic movement but rarely towards specific individuals (unless that individual is a political or religious leader) for specific missteps, but rather towards entire cultures, countries and groups (usually from which the prophet emerged from—critique from within) for their lack of effort toward justice, their acts of oppression, their mistreatment of those with the least…almost every single Prophet in history has called out nations for their mistreatment of the poor.

Okay. What brings in the recent article from the AJTP is that it concerns “liberal Christianity,” which other writers have more accurately captured with the name “Progressive Christianity.” Gary Dorrien published “The Crisis and Necessity of Liberal Theology” in the spring issue of the above mentioned journal. He describes the history of liberal theology and progressive Christianity which in modern forms was predominant in many areas of the country throughout the 1800s and up to the 1930s. The great Depression and the culmination of two world wars reduced its popularity at a time when many people wanted a more concrete, definitive, and unquestioning and strictly rooted religion. The modern problem facing progressive theology and Christianity is, to paraphrase Dorrien from his article, that it’s too religious and spiritually minded for our secular friends who we may otherwise share opinions with on the social issues facing us, it’s too full of openness, doubt, searching and interpretation for our more orthodox traditional Christian counterparts, and it’s too wordy, complex and academic for those that are unversed in philosophy, theology and academia. Dorrien noted that most of us enamored with Liberal Theology feel that Progressive Christianity would spread tremendously if only we could express its message more succinctly, truly and simply. Yet, he writes, it’s wrong to think droves would “flock to our doors” if only we could better express our beliefs. Most people DON”T WANT a Prophetic Religion that seeks to address social change and progress. Most people want a religion that acts as a personal security blanket, reinforcing pre existing thoughts, beliefs and prejudices. But as Cornell West calls out for in his writings, we need those prophets to enlighten those that don’t even seek such progress. We’ve had them throughout history and we’ve made great steps in their wake. When they’re not here we grow complacent. Yet as West writes, we can’t look towards a single person speaking prophetically and say we’ve got it. We must have that entire movement. For there surely are voices crying out now that speak the truth that seek to transform communities, culture and countries. In very recent years West himself as been such a person as well as Noam Chomsky, Ralph Nader, Barbara Ehrenreich, Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni, Marcus Borg…the list can go on and on and include writers, musicians, poets, teachers and preachers who maybe don’t always live in and think of themselves as prophets, but seize certain prophetic truths and address them to entire groups of people in the hopes of causing positive change. Yet we need an energized movement that speaks to more people and inspires them to do more for others; the more people inspired to do even a little more is like water rolling down hill, the work done for others may inspire some of them to get involved themselves. The point is, we live at a time when drastic prophetic social change truly can occur. We’ve been stuck at a point in which it was possible for some time now, yet it really hasn’t happened. Dorrien may be write that Progressive Christianity may never be fully widespread, and that’s okay. If it’s a niche corner, then it needs to be a strong niche corner in which good work is done, truth is spoken and it needs to partner with like minded niche corners in every sector, religious or irreligious, secular and spiritual, political or communal.

She Said “I Want Some of That Hellfire and Brimstone Stuff”

Okay. I’ve put off this article for awhile. I’ve touched on it several times in other pieces on my site and I’ve spoken of it countless times with friends but I’ve never put it all into one concise article before. But here goes, I’ll try.

“I want some of that old hellfire and brimstone stuff,” a 20-something woman I used to work with once said. She was visiting different churches and when I asked her what she was looking for, that’s what she told me. I thought she was joking. “That’s what you really want?” I asked.
“Well, not for me personally, like I don’t want hellfire and brimstone! I want to hear it in the sermons at church though!”

So, she was saying she didn’t want to experience it herself, but she wanted to hear about it in the sermons preachers gave on Sunday morning when she went to church. She certainly didn’t want to go to hell, but she wanted to hear about how others were going to go there, she wanted to hear about the fire, the gnashing of teeth, the wailing, the violence that would be inflicted on those that don’t believe what she believes. Well, at least she was honest, I’ll give her that. Many people subscribe to a belief in a literal, violent, flaming hell in which everyone who isn’t  a factual-literalist conservative Christian will go to. These people may believe in such a place for a multitude of reasons, many quite innocently. They may think that to be a true Christian you have to believe in such a thing. They may be Biblical literalists that ignore the near absence of a literal hell in the Hebrew Old/First Testament and focus on every parable, reference to Sheol and seemingly actual reference to an eternal pit of fire from the New Testament and apply it to their current lives with fervor. The church has grown significantly in historical periods in which the fear of hell was invoked with the most fervor. The early tent-revival explosion of the early 20th Century owes a large debt to hellfire and brimstone (as well as Rapture theology). For many, it’s fear of hell that initially “converts them” and it’s fear of hell that leads them to evangelize to others to seek their conversion—honestly, if you truly feel that your best friend will writhe in eternal torment if he doesn’t pray the same prayer to Jesus that you did, you’ll spend every waking moment trying to convince him to say that prayer, right? If you truly, deeply believe that you will.

I don’t buy it. Many other Christians don’t buy it either. Let’s take a look at some other ways of looking at this for awhile.

In two recent articles, “Why Church? Why Christianity? + ‘The Heart of Christianity’  by Marcus Borg” and “Salvation,” I tackled other ways of viewing Salvation, the Christian mission and why church and Christianity are and can still be relevant. I mentioned arguments that attempt to deflate Christian exclusivism. So if I believe other Religions have a valid tie to salvation even though I myself hold to Christianity, do I believe that anyone goes to hell? People always throw Hitler out to get hell deniers to concede a point. Yes, what Hitler did was atrocious. But, could anyone who was truly whole, full and complete have believed as he did and done as he did? Something was missing from him at his very core, for whatever reasons and contributing factors. Does that mean he will forever suffer as a result of that, when (and I’m not saying this as a certainty, just a suggestion) what drove him to be so monstrous may have been at least somewhat out of his own hands, in some way? Some Muslims believe that many of us go to hell and “burn off” our sins and transgressions and then proceed to paradise. I can see that more than I can an eternal hell. If God “punishes” humans, isn’t the point of the punishment to cause the person to modify their behavior, change their viewpoint or to grow as a person? If the person is eternally in hell there can be no modification, change or growth. Of course, many Christians don’t believe God chooses to literally “punish” people, yet that’s another issue altogether. But for those many who do believe God may sometimes choose to punish humans in order to grow them, where does that leave hell? I imagine most would say that hell is a last resort, a place for all of those who refused to accept Christ despite their many chances in life to do so. Well, what about all of the millions of folks born, raised and rooted in Islam, Buddhism, Judaism, Taoism or Sikhism?  Sure, they can hear about Christ through missionaries. Yet will they be prone to accept him? How prone are we as natively born Christians in America to adopt Buddhism or Islam? We can say that we aren’t very likely to do so because we have the “right” God and doctrines. Yet we have the luxury to say that by feeling so comfortable in our scriptures and traditions, and we would most likely be as such in one of the other enduring world religions had we been born elsewhere or at a different time in history. Marcus Borg once wrote that if we believe that only one religion is right and that there is only one true way to get to heaven, it’s awfully convenient that it’s the tradition we ourselves are born in.

That’s the thing. We as humans love to sort everyone  out into “the saved and the damned.” We desire to classify huge numbers of people as an out-group so that we ourselves can be part of an in-group. Humans do this in grade schools, church groups, workplaces and prisons alike. If we can convince ourselves with utter certainty that our way is right, many of us feel we must identify all other ways as wrong. After all, what’s so special about heaven if everyone gets to go?
That belief makes heaven a prize we have earned through proper beliefs. Heck, if it’s all about proper belief proper action becomes irrelevant. Many that hold this belief do begin to emphasize proper action with the concern that it shows the believer to be authentic, but usually in the personal morality sense. We must act right if we’re truly believe right, but righteous social concerns are often still irrelevant for this group.

It’s important to stress that there are many different ways of looking at the concept of hell and that more than one of these viewpoints are valid within the Christian tradition. Christ himself rarely mentioned the afterlife at all, heaven or hell. He was most concerned about the world here and now: how we treat each other, how we act, live and interact in groups, how we honor God, ourselves and our neighbors. His primary message was concerned with the Kingdom of God, a system very much rooted in present, real life. Often when Jesus mentioned Hell the actual Hebrew term was Sheol. Sheol can be modernly translated as “abode of the dead,” “death” or “the grave.” It often meant simply physical death, the end. It other times was used to imply a “second death,” an ultimate and final end. In the books of Ecclesiastes and Job, Sheol referred to the final destination of both the just and righteous as well as the unjust and unrighteous alike. Jesus used Sheol in parables that linked it to the pits outside of the cities in the Roman empire where trash was hauled and burnt, completely evaporated until nothing was left. This and the concept of a second death both point more to “oblivion” than “eternal punishment.” One major way of looking at hell is this idea of a second death. In this view, those that live, believe and cultivate a spiritual life and core continue on after death, growing and becoming whole. Those that have no spiritual side in life don’t suddenly gain one in death. Those that reject all eternal belief thus will themselves to this “second death,” this eternal oblivion. When Hebrew texts were translated into Greek, many such uses of “Sheol” were substituted with “Hades,” and from there it later became Hell, and once Hell caught on as such a fear tactic and conversion inspiration, it stayed. It was the bread and butter of an entire evangelical movement of Christianity within the United States at the turn of the 20th century.

Also of note is that the majority of popular perceptions of hell come from admittedly fictional works. Dante’s “Inferno” most famously. Christian scriptures don’t literally describe hell, what most people assume comes from scripture on this subject really come from Dante and sermons of early Puritan and traveling evangelist sermons.
Which is not to say that there isn’t any basis for the most persistent views of hell within scriptures. Of course there’s basis for such a viewpoint, it’s been a predominant Christian viewpoint for hundreds of years. But it really boils down to what most other modern theological debates boil down to: how you view scripture interpretation. You either find it to be literal/factual or historical/metaphorical, which affects almost every other issue coming forth from it.

It’s really not of the utmost importance that progressive Christianity goes on a battle to dispel and remove all concepts of hell from modern Christianity. That’s not necessary. But it is important that we step back and take stock of the different views out there. Most importantly we need to think before we ever consign entire groups of people to hell. God is compassionate, forgiving, loving, all-encompassing and divine. He’s not petty, cruel or joyous over inflicting pain. The arguments for inclusivity are numerous, there are so many common-sense approaches that leave room for those of all religious stripes to find a seat at the table and do the earthly work of God’s kingdom in their own way, in their own culture and with their own scriptures. Yes, there are some people that seem to reject all forms of love, compassion and forgiveness. There are people that do horribly heinous things with clear minds and no discernible defects. Are such people still privy to a continuing life after death or any type of “paradise?” It seems odd to think so. For that reason I myself still find room in my theology for some type of what many would call hell, but I don’t perceive a loving compassionate God as making it a place of agony, or making it a place at all for that matter. I think the earliest perceptions of Sheol are the most fitting. Those that reject peace in life and form no spiritual core are apt to “wink out,” to fade away. Then again, there’s no clear teaching from Jesus what heaven is like either. The main point this should show those of us that call ourselves Christians is that far more important than the afterlife is the here and now. “Let the dead bury the dead,” Jesus is said to have stated in Matthew’s gospel. What matters is now, the afterlife however it may be and whatever form it may take will take care of itself someday. Christianity is based around the person of Jesus and Jesus’ concern was ushering in the Kingdom of God through charity and peaceful, nonviolent justice on earth. “A new heaven and a new earth,” isn’t some other dimension but rather a transformed world that we are to work towards. Hell shouldn’t be a threat to scare others into saying a certain prayer and then relaxing at home no longer afraid. What good does that lend the Kingdom of God? Why would God instill a system that’s all about humanity believing proper doctrine without bothering to do righteous action?

This issue isn’t fully encapsulated here, I realize. It’s a weighty issue, and there are many great ways of looking at it from Islam, Buddhist and Jewish world views that help shed some light on what it universally is. I think it’s safe to say that most point to it being almost something we make for ourselves by not allowing ourselves to reach our full potential and purpose in creation, working within and living inside of God itself. So really, if anyone is truly concerned with hell they’re already on the path to overcoming it if they haven’t fully done so yet.

Why Church? Why Christianity? + Marcus Borg’s “Heart of Christianity”

A few weeks ago, I posted an article titled “Salvation” on my blog. Someone I know commented that they liked what I had to say on most of the points, but being agnostic they asked me to answer for them two significant “whys.” Following and agreeing on the call to social justice, compassion, education, spirituality why must “church,” “Christianity,” and “hell” be invoked and used as relevant concepts as part of the deal? First off, “hell” in the traditional sense is pretty irrelevant to the point but I’ll deal with that in another article sometime.

While thinking about the other two terms, which I do find to be relevant and important parts of this ideal, I happened to read “The Heart of Christianity” by Marcus Borg. I can’t recommend it highly enough, he succinctly and efficiently makes all of the best points I tried to make in my “Salvation” article as well as all the points I hope to make here. He does it clearly, understandably and compassionately. So if you’re interested in progressive Christianity, what Borg terms “the emerging paradigm,” seek out that book. Heck, if you’re a happy traditional Christian read it as well, Borg does his best to find common ground for all Christians and aims to build a bridge between both camps (one point he makes is that we should all quit arguing on literality, if something “actually happened“ and focus instead on what each thing really means). At least you’ll get a good overview of some of the other ways of looking at things you may never have considered before from someone with the work experience and scholarly credentials to support his positions.

Okay. So to start with, why is “Christianity” important. After all, if you feel called to work for the cause of peace, justice and compassion you can do so as a member of any religion or of no religion whatsoever. Many times throughout history organized religion has even worked intensely against peace, justice and compassion. Borg focuses on deflating Christian exclusivism at several points in “Heart…” He even takes the few (for there are really only a few passages in which Christianity is stated as being the exclusively right and only way) and approaches them in a new light. In John’s gospel the famous verse that conservative Christians use to defend Christian exclusivism has Jesus saying “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Borg points out that John’s gospel is one of incarnational theology. Jesus is “Word made flesh,” and so he is “‘the way made flesh.’ the path embodied in a life…what is ‘the way’ that Jesus is?” Borg writes, “For John ‘the way’ embodied in Jesus is the path of death and resurrection. Dying and rising is the only way to God. Christian exclusivism understands this verse to mean that you must know Jesus in order to be saved. But ‘the way’ that John speaks of is not about believing doctrines about Jesus. Rather, it is what we see incarnate in Jesus: the path of death and resurrection as the way to rebirth in God. According to John this is the only way…it is ‘the way’ spoken of by all major religions of the world. Dying and rising is the way. Thus Jesus is “the Way”–the way became flesh…his life and death are the incarnation of a universal way known in all of the enduring religions.”

Borg attempts to deflate exclusivism in many other ways in his book yet also emphasizes the importance and his personal love of and practice in Christianity. So if Christianity isn’t believed to only be about getting to heaven and avoiding hell and it is no longer believed to the only absolute way of reaching our potential and our “salvation,” does that make those of us who feel strongly that it is what is right for us as individuals and good for the world when practiced compassionately foolish or does that make us more sincere since the decision to participate in it doesn’t come from fear or compulsion? Furthermore, why do we find it the right way at this point? I like the anecdote Borg recounts concerning an American meeting the Dali Lama and asking him if he should convert to Buddhism. The Dali Lama told him no and advised him to “stick where your roots are the deepest.” It’s better to have one well dug 50 feet deep than 50 wells dug a foot deep each.

For Progressive Christians in the US, our roots are deepest in the Christian tradition. We are familiar and comfortable in its creeds, hymns, iconography, scriptures, prayers and base. We probably would have been more comfortable with Islam or Judaism if we were born with a faithful base in such, but we weren’t. Yet we recognize the truth at the heart of this tradition, in the person of Jesus and in the scriptures and traditions that emerged from those who were inspired by him. In the church as a force for social justice and compassion in the world if only it can live up to its full potential. Why Christianity? Because as my priest once said, “for me it’s simply where the points line up most fully,” where I can feel myself most in line with God and what I can be and should do.

Why Church? Because although I may not always agree with every person in a pew beside me on every theological and social issue I can still be inspired by the music, prayers, creeds, sacraments and sermons. I prefer a broad, open liberal faith in which I am free to read, think, ponder, doubt and question anything set before me but also that provides me with a link to history and tradition that makes those practices become less about the specific words and doctrines and more about opening the heart to possibility and the mind to inspiration. If the church strives to live up to its potential, as I outlined in an article on this site a few months back, it will be a place of great things. Brian McClaren writes in his book “The Secret Message of Jesus” that a local church should be a place that where at any given time you stumble into it there may be people praying silently in the chapel, students debating philosophy in the classroom, workers serving hot meals to the homeless in the kitchen, adult professionals on their time off planning local and foreign aid to necessary social concerns, people hearing a sermon that both inspires and edifies them while also challenging them to more that they expect. It should be and can be all of these things. Why church? Because as much as we as individuals may feel strongly about, think about and say we plan to do something about important social and community issues we may not stay on ourselves to follow through on them and we may find it difficult to act on such plans without proper resources. A community of like-minded individuals can support, challenge and work side by side to accomplish these types of things as well as have the resources to back them. Of course charitable organizations and clubs can do these things to, so church isn’t the only way for that side of it. Yet equally important is personal edification, inspiration and challenge. We can get a lot of this through personal study and mediation, yet hearing from other perspectives opens our minds to ways we on our own might not have considered. That tie to history and community can open doors and link us to a place outside of ourselves as well. By pointedly leaving our own daily lives to visit a place that aims for a more vertical than lateral approach that is rich in iconography and ritual can help us elevate our hearts. Now I know it takes commitment, which draws many away. Let’s face it, if we work all week and Sunday is our only day off we aren’t always going to want to devote a portion of it to the church for whatever reason. That’s why it should never be viewed as a place where an attendance record is kept like a grade school or a place where we feel pressured to go to every week whether we feel like it or not. No, it should be a place where we feel comfortable to go to once a week or once a month, establishing our own regularity as we feel comfortable to it. Sometimes people want to spend that time with family, in nature or in private study and personal reflection…and that’s good. Yet it should always be there for us, and the deeper some of us get into it the more facets of it we may find ourselves utilizing.

Yes, people in groups can be just as misguided as individuals if not more so. Yes, organized religion in all countries has historical periods of guilt and persecution. Yet the terms “Christian’ and “Church” are still relevant to the modern world and to the works of justice and compassion. The more progressive, thoughtful and varied people that can enter into them can only cause these systems to be more as they truly should be.

Salvation

Recruitment. Conversion. Uniform lifestyles, in-line opinions, conformed worldviews. Membership, belonging, being part of the in-group, tribe, community or church. Salvation?
In case you don’t know, I do not believe that last term belongs in a list of the terms that precede it. Meaning, “salvation” is not synonymous with belonging to a group or adopting an exact worldview.
I would argue that salvation is not a term for a momentary singular moment in which suddenly someone is adopted into a large spiritual family either. Salvation isn’t the reward for praying the right prayer or reciting the right doctrine or interpreting a religious scripture in the exact way as another has.

“Salvation” is a blanket term for something that is hard to describe succinctly. Salvation merely captures the essence as best as an English word (a human word for that matter) can. Yet it also means exactly what it infers. It’s a transformation, a lifted burden, a successful rescue. It’s when one finds what one has been missing, that moment or series of moments when the culmination of searching, pondering, questioning and struggling to make sense of life and the world all line up to give that person a sense of fulfillment, peace, guidance and direction.

It’s not about heaven, not really, at least not entirely. It’s certainly not about escaping a literal, physical place called “hell.” When I was a child I was scared to death of hell, so many church sermons and Sunday school classes convinced me that even as a young kid I was so rotten and misguided that I was hell bound, and that no matter how many times I prayed the right prayer, walked the aisle or got baptized, I never felt secure that I truly believed deeply and rightly enough to dodge the flames of hell. Then I got older, became more cynical, more doubting, a little more rebellious. I soon stripped all of those fears and spiritual insecurities from myself and for a time got over religion altogether. For many, that’s where it ends. A lot of people that are exposed early on to the “hellfire and brimstone” style of preaching turn away. They find such simplistic concepts of heaven, hell, salvation and damnation as out-of-touch and unrealistic and cringe over such stark black and white legalistic codes of morality. They don’t really know of any other version of Christianity, many probably assume the more liberal versions of it are just a softened and more PC version of what they grew up with, and these people are often pretty sure that since the supposed “pure” form of it that they were exposed to is hogwash, any “diluted” form of it is as well.

So as not to recap a lot of impertinent information for this article, I’ll briefly say that despite periods of doubt, cynicism, skepticism and anger at the establishment of modern American Christianity, I’ve always been interested in religion, theology and philosophy and that my searching eventually led me back to it, yet in a much different manner. I’ve written on this site many times about differences between moderate, liberal or traditional Christianity versus conservative, fundamentalist and legalistic Christianity. I’ve written of the multiple Christs that people create from their studies and worship. Yet as I grow deeper into my personal spiritual life, through study, reflection, education, worship and thought, I find a more solid, real perception of salvation, one in which I never fully grasped as a younger person. Salvation as I’ve said here and in other pieces, isn’t a “get out of hell free” card.

If you read my recent post, “The Church as it Could be: Social Justice Hub,” parts of this may sound like I’m beating that same topic to death, but I can’t help it, it seems so important to me. In the past two centuries Christians in America have been the primary “in group,” the group of folks who had such status that any negation of rights seems treasonous. Yet Christians started out as a subversive, alternative and persecuted group. After the Roman Empire, who had been the primary persecutor and opponent of Christ followers adopted Christianity as official national religion, the violence that Christianity so opposed suddenly began to be used to expand it. Now, of course in America it hasn’t been done that way. Yet in a land of civil liberties, religious freedom and encouraged tolerance most Christians haven’t experienced true persecution, intolerance and the like. So, fundamentalist preachers invent that sense of persecution. “The Government doesn’t support us.” Well, they shouldn’t. Separation of church and state is good for both church and state and historically supported by both. Not to mention that even when the government that is in power is a just, morally responsible one that most church members would be supportive of, the church still must exist wholly outside of government. Government and empire are polar opposites in that they are the established normalcy of civilization that the church is called to stand outside to urge toward just action and criticize for unjust action, always remain apart….remember, Rome was “the beast numbered with 666.” Empire is a form of antichrist….nothing more, nothing less.

The imagined persecution as perceived by the fundamentalists goes further. “The education system doesn’t respect us. We send our Christian children to college and they become liberal, anti-Christian.” This perception has created an irrational, eerie fear of education amongst religious fundamentalists. It’s gone so far that fundamentalists churches refuse to consider anyone who has received religious training, education and preparation from a seminary or state university as an applicant for a pastor at their church. Furthermore, in many areas of the country churches have formed “Kingdom Schools,” alternative “Christian” schools that they state exist to train their young to have the same beliefs, share the same doctrines and work in the same manner that they do. No longer do these schools attempt to prepare their children for state universities, universities that will “liberalize” and change them and send them away from their communities. Now they prepare them to step into their own community with the same opinions and values as their parents, right or wrong.
“The Media and pop culture deride us and persecute us.” Well, even though I am an ardent fan of quality pop culture, music, film, television, books or magazines I realize that pop culture and mass media are a reflection of society and it’s people. So, not even accounting for the poorly made garbage containing bad values or poor quality, even the best and most entertaining work still exists as a product of “normal” society. So although Christians may very well enjoy and love much of what comes to them through pop culture, they should always realize that it’s not supposed to express their values, beliefs and perceptions. It may echo them occasionally, sometimes it may capture the heart of it completely (and almost every time I’ve ever seen this happen in art, music or film it has come from established mainstream media and culture, not from so-called “Christian entertainment’ which usually exists to reinforce a small portion of Christianity and to exclude and separate Christians from the rest of the world rather than incorporate them with their fellow human). Christians in America, at least in fundamentalist camp, have forgotten that they aren’t meant to be the “in-group.” They shouldn’t depend on society, government, media or pop culture to prop them up, reinforce their opinions and applaud them.

The past few paragraphs probably seem like a detour since I’m discussing the concept of salvation, but I think it’s central to the issue. Christians that look for acknowledgement, respect and support from all of the above listed institutions are missing the point. Salvation is a release from desiring the support of those institutions. Salvation is a freeing of the mind, a renewing of the spirit. It’s a dying to the old ways of empire, society, wealth, and war and a rising to the ways of love, compassion, peace and nonviolent justice. In the early years, Christians faced real persecution. The kind that consisted of being beaten, beheaded and crucified, not made fun of in a Hollywood comedy film. The law of the land was stacked against their best interest, they were downtrodden, seen as threats to Roman security. Much different than a mere senate ruling that goes against a conservative pet issue (and then gets inflated and badly exaggerated from the pulpit).

A lot is made of England and western Europe being “post Christian” now. In England, only about 13 percent of the population attends any sort of Christian church on any type of basis. After decades of swelling, some have predicted that things would begin moving in that direction in the states as well. I can’t help but think that 13 percent, in England and in the states, is probably much closer to reality anyway. True Christianity is a minority, because it’s demanding, difficult and alternative. It’s a minority mindset, practice and lifestyle. Now, I don’t say this in the sense that some fundamentalists do. Many famous fundamentalists have stated that only a small percentage of their congregations are actually “saved.” I’m not stating that. I don’t consider only 13 percent “saved” in that sense. Of course, I don’t consider evangelicals, conservatives, fundamentalists or traditional Christians as “damned to hell,” but neither do I consider spiritually sound and loving Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Jews or Agnostics as damned to hell either, but that’s another issue altogether. No, I think 13 percent is more accurate because most of us who are raised in the Christian tradition make a public proclamation of faith at a very young age. I consider most of those early times I traipsed down the aisle more akin to the infant baptisms done in certain religious traditions. That infant baptism is a sign that parents will raise the child in that tradition. That young plod down the aisle and recited prayer was, at best an early sign that I would be raised in the tradition (at worse, and more close to the truth in my personal case, it was an overwhelming fear of the burning fires and gnashing demonic teeth of hell).

The point is, most people in America that walk down the aisle and proclaim the Christian faith really don’t understand the concept fully. It’s hard to understand that the normal machinations of society are built on war, greed, consumption, division, prejudice, violence, destruction and “peace through victory” and to feel a call to an alternative system of peace, love, compassion, forgiveness, self-sacrifice, unity, inclusion and “peace through nonviolent justice” at a young age; for many it’s hard to grasp that at any age. It’s hard to imagine that the majority of young converts feel the weight of societal pressures, personal failure, self-doubt and the incomplete feeling that one gets by being led to believe that happiness can only come from money, power, respect and adoration and thus find that deeper meaning, the sense of real fulfillment that results in realizing true
happiness comes from being at peace, working for justice, displaying love and compassion, and getting in touch with yourself through personal reflection and meditation. That all being said, I’m sure there are young converts that do just as I’m sure that there are many older people who never grasp the issues either.

I was speaking with a friend of mine the other day. We talked about the concepts and forms of Christianity that differ from our personal feelings and beliefs. I mentioned that I am consistently trying to be at peace with other beliefs, respect others positions even when I disagree. Yet my friend and I both agreed that certain aspects of Christianity as it’s expressed, falsely in our opinions, just angers us. My friend said he thought of why that was. “I don’t get angry at Buddhist, Jewish or Hindu doctrines, forms or thoughts I disagree with. Why do I with Christian opinions I differ from. Then I realized its because I am a Christian.” He gets angry at perversions of the central core of Christianity that he sees in popular, conservative thought because it is being done in the name of Christ when he sees no Christ in it.

So although I can peacefully and silently disagree with or politely debate with Christians who hold different opinions and doctrines from my own on a whole host of issues, and I can most certainly work side by side with them doing the actual physical social and community work that needs being done, there are certain issues, thoughts and perceptions that lose Christ so badly that I simply can’t help but feel angry at what is being marketed to huge populations of people who want to do what’s right and our truly seeking God yet are being shoveled something else. It makes me angry that such misperceptions have spread so much that the world at large thinks these misperceptions are generally what Christianity is and so they scoff at it, conversely making many of the intelligent and respectable liberal thinkers to write it off as well and state their own misperceptions towards it.

So I’m ending with a few key statements that set me and those like me far apart from many who claim to be the new mainstream Christians.

My God is not a vengeful God of wrath. My God does not look forward to some great raining down of fire and blood upon humanity, nor does my God prepare to be the cause of the destruction of all creation.
My perception of Christ is that of a Lamb. Jesus defeated evil and injustice through suffering, love, forgiveness and peace. He did not do this through violence, military might, the sword or battle. I am not waiting on a violent return of a Christ clothed in battle gear who will punish the world and accomplish his rule in a manner inconsistent with his teaching and living.

My God doesn’t expect me to wage a holy war on non believers. I am called first and foremost to look for Christ in the heart of the poor, the homeless, the sick, the children, the incarcerated, the forgotten, the war torn, the displaced, the immigrants, the prejudiced against, the discouraged.
I do God’s work by serving and helping others, giving others a kind word, encouraging and supporting, teaching and learning, living and loving. Not by seeking to conform others to a universal thought, opinion or lifestyle.

The Kingdom of God isn’t a future tense far removed place set outside of this world and I do not seek to rescue people from this world and lead them to set by and wait for either their death and removal from the world or some downpour of violence and Armageddon so that this world can be destroyed and replaced by something better. No, if I’m able to at all I point others in the direction of the kingdom of God by showing them help, love and consideration so that they can enter it here and now as a way of living in peace, working for peace and spreading peace wherever they go.
God does not hate. Jesus is not a violent warrior. I am not a Christian soldier.

The Church as it Could Be – Social Justice Hub

Some time back I was speaking with a more conservative friend of mine. The subject of Rick Warren, the evangelical mega church pastor and author of “The Purpose Driven Life” came up. Now, I’m not a huge Warren fan on many issues, but I was speaking favorably of a plan of Warren’s that had  been recounted in a Time magazine interview at that time. In the article, Warren posited the idea that globally, the Christian church could become a central hub of help and support for the community around it. Theological arguments and differences can become so big and divisive that Warren was laying out an area of overlap for all churches to focus on. Poverty, sickness, hunger, depression and other global problems can and should be addressed by the local church. Warren envisioned a system in which each church in a given town could provide shelter and food for the area homeless and poor, basic and preventive medical and dental attention for the sick (after all, there are church going doctor’s and nurses), counseling for the depressed and so on. My friend made a comment similar to ones that many conservatives often make. “If you’re going to be mainly concerned with feeding and clothing people around the world, simply focusing on physical and bodily needs and forsaking the spiritual business of saving souls you may as well just join the peace corps.”

For many conservatives, the church should only be concerned with evangelism in the sense of “soul winning,” and “preaching the good news.” Save their souls, for there’s a better place in heaven and this world’s just a dirty old pond for us to fish folks out of. That’s 19th and 20th century evangelical thought in it’s most basic and concise form.

Yet isn’t it obvious that “preaching the good news” is synonymous with caring for the poor, feeding the hungry, loving the outcast and welcoming in all to the fold? Isn’t that how one breaks the Kingdom of God into the present world in the highest form of outreach that one can do?

I commend Warren’s plan in this case. There are areas in which I would take it much further than he, but I feel that’s okay. I’m sure Warren would be fine with me and “mine” keeping a more liberal theological stance for ourselves as long as we share in the common goal of doing God’s physical work on earth.

Of course, it sounds too simple. Much more simple than it is, unfortunately.  For many people, faith is wrapped up in a few key concepts that tend to leave the true heart of Christianity out. For some, anything that challenges their belief in biblical inerrancy, substitutionary atonement or dispensationalist rapture theology is unacceptable, and often heretical. A quick scour of the internet doing any sort of theology research will load you up with plenty of angry refutations of Borg, Crossan, Funk, Rob Bell and even NT Wright, for their larger probing questions as well as their most basic thought that push far outside of those few “key” concepts. It all comes down to how someone understands the concept of salvation and how someone reads the Bible. It’s worth noting that dispensationalist and rapture theology is largely absent from the Bible in any notable way and only began to be taught in the past 150 years or so and that substitutionary atonement is but one of many interpretations of New Testament thought, not the sole doctrine it’s thought of in certain circles. So bear with me for the sidetrack, but I think a quick summation of this particular doctrine is necessary at this point.

Substitutionary atonement holds pretty much the following: Humankind is sinful, people are born full of sin and earth had become so base and vile that a great sacrifice was required to pay the debt that such sin had created. This debt was so large that only a Godlike sacrifice would suffice. So God became incarnate in the human flesh of Jesus whose entire purpose in life was death, to die on the cross so that the debt could be paid in blood. Now, since that debt has been paid, humans can receive forgiveness and the gift of salvation. Salvation understood in the context of this particular framework is explicitly life after death in heaven and this gift is received by praying a certain prayer once one becomes knowledgeable and thus accountable for their sins.

This may seem like one of those theological tangents that are so divisive that I mentioned earlier. This article is concerned with the local church being a “social justice hub,” so why mention such a thing? Well, such a mindset helps explain why such a seemingly agreeable cause can be considered “radical’ or “liberal” by many Christian groups.  I myself am much more in tune with a more “participatory atonement,” one in which as a  Christian I  don’t rely simply on Christ to die and rise to pay my debts in my place but instead feel that we ourselves must metaphorically die to our old way and rise again to a new way of living, to “pick up our cross daily,” so that it’s never a matter of finished and complete. No, we must constantly die to the ways of the established order, the order in which greed, money, empire, violence, injustice, self interest, anger, bitterness, spite, and war reign and instead rise to live to a new and alternative order, one in which peace, justice, love, compassion, truth, honesty and progress reign. In this sense the world is not a “dirty pond to fish people out of,” no, it’s a wonderful creation full of immense possibility in which we are called to break this alternative kingdom into being, a world in which we do our best to spread peace and non-violent justice everywhere we go. In this sense, salvation isn’t just a gift that provides us a ticket out of this world once we die and so we must simply bide our time till this all falls away, no, it’s instead a means to provide us with inner peace, comfort, guidance and preparation so that we can set about making things here and now the way they ought to be with the belief that we will one day find it so. (Not to mention I also feel Jesus’ life and teachings were very important, not just his death)

It’s understandable how looking at things from a way never before considered can be upsetting to people. Universal inclusion, acceptance, non-violence, equality, an open and evolving interpretation of scripture, environmental preservation and responsibility, and being open to new discoveries every day are challenging to those that have boiled spirituality down to a matter of a “get out of hell free card,” an upcoming violent battle of end times, a well defined and boxed in list of do’s and don’ts. Not to mention that the politicization of a certain religious thought has led to a tie-in with capitalism and republicanism causing peace and justice issues to seem just a bit too “socialistic” for some.

Not to be snide, but all are free to think how they want to, read scripture in the manner they choose to, rally behind whatever causes they are drawn to. Yet knowing that for even the most far-right Christian who holds to their concepts I’ve mentioned earlier, the call to “plead the case of the widow” and “defend the fatherless,” the call to feed the hungry and nurture the sick, to love the outcast, this call is not defined to either liberal or conservative. This is universal, basic, heart of Christianity material. To ignore it is to ignore the entire person of Jesus and his teachings.

So I can let go of my difference of opinion on many issues with Warren and still support his universal cause of outreach to the less fortunate. I feel that this is the call of the church in the modern era to remain relevant.

Thoughts on Dr. George Tiller, Writings of Anne Lamott

Every time this incident is mentioned, Dr. George Tiller is referred solely as “the late-term abortion doctor, one of only three clinics in the country where such a procedure occurs.”

That may be, but little attention is given to why and how such procedures were arranged. The very term “late term abortion” is code word, it’s supposed to be an area even those of us who are very pro-choice are forced to concede, to agree with the opposition that such a thing is heinous and never acceptable. Surely if a woman can’t make up her mind before the 21st week, surely if she’s carried the child to that point and begun to significantly show, surely there can also be no doubt that there is a heartbeat and numerous signs of life, surely we can all agree she has waited to long and to have an abortion at such a stage is irresponsible, wrong and unforgivable. Surely?

Well,  not exactly. Now, I can’t state everything as exhaustively written and researched, but I can’t help but do my part to mention that from what I have read, Dr. Tiller‘s work was not just a matter of very late term pregnant women stumbling in deciding at the last minute they just didn’t feel like having a child after all. No, from what I have read it seems that many tests were always ran, second consultations were requested, and the procedure was for those women who had discovered that the child they were carrying would be born significantly disabled, mentally incapacitated and/or plagued with a very difficult and life-shortening disease. In short, many things that don’t show up until that point of a pregnancy have thus shown up for these women, and they have been forced to face the decision. Will they, or can they, devoted the time, effort, sacrifice and devotion to care for a child that cannot care for him/herself and may not even be aware of him/herself much at all either? Certainly women, men and families raise such children every day and many find such work rewarding and heart fulfilling, and of course many of the people in such situations found themselves without a choice or a preemptive decision in such a regard. Yet can we tell others that do know beforehand what they will be getting into that they must make that decision for themselves? That at the very least they must bring such a child to full term and put him/her up for adoption in the hopes that someone else will seek out and care for them, and failing that leave them to be cared for by the state? Should we be able to tell all others they must have no choice in such a matter? (Keep in mind that at the 22nd week we’re still not dealing with a fully formed human child that would live on their own outside of the mother’s body either.) So should the state strip all women from any choice in the matter when it is indeed such a heartbreaking and difficult decision that none of us would ever hope to have to make ourselves? I don’t think so, and evidently Dr. Tiller did not think so either.

No, the term “late term abortionist” is so loaded that I feel the media strips Dr. Tiller of some honor by negating him to such a term. Here is a man who was violently, ruthlessly gunned down while worshipping in his Lutheran Church on a Sunday morning, a church where both he and his wife were both regular attendants and active, as deacons and choir singers respectively. Here’s a man who has been shot and injured before, and as soon as he recovered he was back at work stating that his community had taken care of him and he wanted to be back at work to care for them. His clinic was bombed, he regularly received death threats and had to be escorted by a body guard much of the time. Yet he honestly believed he was doing work to help others.  Work that sought to help those that were looked down on by much of the world, the desperate and sad, those left to make the hard choices with often little support. He felt he was doing good work and he was gunned down in church for doing so.

I’m ending this article with some excerpts from Christian writer and philosopher Anne Lamott’s chapter on abortion from her book “Grace (Eventually),” which I happened to run across while reading on Sunday.

In this excerpt she was at a panel discussion with two other Christian writers and speakers, both of the somewhat liberal lean (for their particular denominations at least), one an evangelical the other a Catholic. During a question and answer session a man stood up and  asked how they (Lamott and the other speakers) could reconcile their “progressive stance on peace and justice with the ‘murder of a million babies every year in America.’” Lamott’s co-panelists proceeded to address the question, speaking heavily of such a painful issue but that focus should instead be placed on other “pro-life” matters like “capital punishment, the war in Iraq, poverty and HIV,” and that the efforts should go to “reducing unwanted pregnancies, the need to defuse abortion as a political issue,” etc.

Lamott-  “I announced that I needed to speak out on behalf of the many women present, including myself, who had had abortions, and the women whose daughters might need one in the not-too-distant future–people who must know that teenage girls will have abortions, whether in clinics or dirty back rooms. Women whose lives had been righted and redeemed by Roe v. Wade…I actually feel, and said that it was not a morally ambiguous issue for me at all….Then I said that a woman’s right to choose was nobody else’s goddamn business…Plus, I was–I am–so confused about why we still have to argue with patriarchal sentimentality about miniscule zygotes, when real, live, already born women, many of them desperately poor, get such short shrift from the government now in power [the symposium was during the Bush administration]. …But as a Christian and a feminist, the most important message I can carry and fight for is the sacredness of each human life, and reproductive rights for all women are a crucial part of that. It is a moral necessity that we not be forced to bring children into the world for whom we cannot be responsible and adoring and present. We must not inflict life on children who will be resented; we must not inflict unwanted children on society.”

Observations on “The Reader”

I missed seeing “The Reader” during its theatrical release in 2008, otherwise I certainly would have placed it high on my list of “Best Films of 2008,”  it certainly out-classes and out-thinks some of the more basic diversionary films that settled near the bottom of that list.

“The Reader” is now out on DVD, and a viewing of it left me with all sorts of thoughts. First, on a simply film appreciatory level, it’s a wonderfully made movie with tremendous performances by the entire cast. Kate Winslet consistently proves herself to be one of the, if not THE, eminent actresses of her time. Her work in “Iris” and “Little Children” displayed that, “The Reader” solidifies it.

In narrative and artistically, “The Reader” knocks everything out of the park. I’ve never read the novel on which it’s based, yet I’m certain the allegory, subtext, nuance, philosophy and empathy that cuts through in all directions was present there, and if so it’s amazing that was brought to the screen so successfully. The visuals and many certain shots highlight the deeper meanings that come through in the words and actions of the characters so much so that this film works on so many different levels.

The film explores the after affects of the holocaust in a way I’ve never before seen displayed. The story takes place in Germany in the ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘80s (the ‘70s are entirely skipped) and concerns first a boy of about 15, Michael (played by David Cross as a teen and later by Ralph Fiennes as an adult), who is seduced by a thirty-something woman, Hanna Schmitz (played by Kate Winslet) . Hanna abruptly disappears from Michael’s life one day and he sees her again years later when he is a law student in as his class observes the trial of a group of SS women for war crimes. She is one of those on trial.

What this story manages to do is to remove all easy judgments the viewer might normally make on any character. Whereas noir films muddy things up by showing that there is no complete good in all and the heroes and villains alike share darkness within themselves, this film is like a reverse noir in which the emphasis is on no character being completely bad. It’s ingrained in us to feel it’s good and just to hate the Nazi’s. What other human group can be so easy and blameless for us to loathe? It’s true that there were many human monsters traipsing around in SS uniforms, it’s true that people like Hitler, Mendel and the like cause us to question their very humanity in light of their actions. But what of the rest of the country? Those that served in the army, the SS and other jobs as accomplices in the whole messy, evil affair? Those that simply felt they were “doing their job,” or “serving their country,” or merely trying to get by? Those that didn’t take the time to think about the depth and implications of their actions. Or what of those that didn’t work in any related field yet passively allowed such things to happen by not speaking up, by not acting out, by not revolting? This film shines a light on the next generation of Germans who lived knowing their parents, teachers, preachers and older friends had actively or passively allowed one of the absolute worse national crimes in history to occur.  By taking it further and juxtaposing this relationship between a young teen, who represents that next generation, and a thirty-something woman, who represents Nazi-era Germany, this entanglement is even more pronounced. Most difficult and surprisingly, Winslet portrays this woman in such a way that you begin to feel sympathy for her tremendously, yet then you question yourself for doing so. Shouldn’t these people be void of our sympathy? We’re practically trained to think so. Yet her humanness  shows
through anyway, and her protestations of “I never thought about the past” ring true. Were such a terrible ordeal to occur this day, in this country, wouldn’t many act in the same way? This doesn’t excuse the behavior, not at all, and the film never does that., it never excuses the behavior or lightens its impact.

It reminds me quite a bit of a comment theologian NT Wright made in his book “Evil and the Justice of God,”  in which he notes the fervor and ardor that people voice hatred towards pedophilia and child molesters. He writes that although such things are “admittedly stomach-churningly wrong and evil,” the extent to which that one crime is so focused on by some is to his mind a way for a society that looks the other way or justifies most other past “sins” to be vocally critical and morally superior to at least one target group. The extent to which such a thing like child molestation is horrific and wrong allows many people to justify a complete hatred on and judgment passing to others.
We feel comfortable demonizing a select few groups of people this day and age, and Nazis and child molesters are certainly guilty of things that deserve the reaction of moral repulsion. What this film manages to do is to pull back the labels and allow you to view someone underneath that label not all that removed from what some of us would be capable of in the “right”(in this case wrong) situation. Shifted from that position of moral superiority we are left to see that most of us are quite human beneath any quite possibly horrible actions we’ve committed. Interestingly, even past the Nazi issue the female lead character is still guilty of seducing a young teenage boy and then deserting him, leaving him floundering in her shadow the rest of his life to such an extent that it seems all other relationships he has are sullied. He acknowledges her ill affect on him in a conversation with a woman who had survived a concentration camp as a young girl  (played by the remarkable Lena Olin). “Yes I know she’s guilty of much worse to so many others,” he tells her looking like a large part of him still loves her even as it hates her for what she’s done to him.

Another interesting theme that arises in relation to that feeling of moral superiority we all often get is brought home by one of college age Michael’s classmates who points out the absurdity of placing a few female guards on trial for war crimes when virtually the whole country actively or inactively aided in the atrocity. He asserted that society was doing this to make themselves feel better, not to bring about justice. The law teacher insightfully pointed out that society doesn’t determine or go by morality, but by law, and the two can be on quite the opposite ends at many points.

In short summation, in addition to being an entertaining, artistic, perfectly acted, immensely watch-able and heartbreakingly tragic film, “The Reader” also prompts more intelligent consideration and thought that almost any film in recent years.