I'm not a Biblical Christian

In Phoenix, a group of eight churches surrounding The Fountains Progressive Christian Church have put up signs announcing a coordinated six-part sermon series, answering the question, "Progressive Christianity: Fact or Fiction?" In comments on the Kissing Fish Facebook post about this event, Roger Wolsey laments the "use of 'Biblical Christianity vs. Progressive Christianity'" in the Fox 10 article. He says, "Progressive Christianity is just as (if not more) biblical than fundamentalism and conservative evangelicalism are."

I've chosen to accept the labels 'progressive Christian' and 'post-modern Christian,' because I think they suit where I am on my journey. But I'm beginning to wonder if 'biblical Christian' or 'evangelical Christian' are labels I'm interested in holding onto anymore.

I certainly look to the Christian canon for wisdom and inspiration. As a Jesus follower, I've reordered my entire life according to his teachings as presented in the gospels. I'm one of the few Christians I know -- 'Bible believing' or otherwise -- who actually loves the Hebrew Scriptures and can give you a thorough reading of Jonah (or Genesis or Judges or Esther or...) complete with references to the Hebrew puns and wordplay. I'm even a strong advocate for taking Paul seriously, and see him as one of the first people to really understand the implications of Jesus' Law of Love. However, claiming to be a biblical or evangelical Christian seems to involve idolizing the text above God's active Spirit, and accepting the falsehood that the Bible is of one voice, and I'm not willing to do either of those things.

If God really intended to convey an Absolute Truth to the world, as evangelical Christians claim, then the Bible was a poor vehicle for doing it. One of the things I love about the Christian and Jewish canons is that they argue amongst themselves. I'm not talking about the usual nitpicks that atheist fundamentalists like to use to rile up Christian fundamentalists ("If the Bible is accurate in every word, then tell me how many times did the cock crow before Peter wept? Matthew disagrees with Mark. Gotcha!") I'm talking about more fundamental arguments.

Read the end of Deuteronomy, and then read the book of Ecclesiastes. Then tell me what the Bible says about whether or not God blesses the righteous and punishes the wicked. Read Romans and then read James, and tell me if a Christian is saved by faith alone or if holy living is also a requirement. Read Mark and read John, and then tell me what purpose I should find in Jesus' death. The author of Ecclesiastes argues against the teachings of Deuteronomy, which were widely believed at the time of his writing. The author of James was a Jewish Christian who didn't like Paul's loose relationship with the 613 Jewish rules for living, and wasn't afraid to disagree with Paul. And the authors of Mark and John, writing in very different times and places had different interpretations of the meaning of Jesus' death.

When Martin Luther set aside the Church's reliance on papal teachings with a cry of "Sola Scriptura," he was trying to find a Christianity that was more pure, free from the corrupting traditions of Rome. However, the evangelicalism (from the Greek euangelos or 'gospel') that followed gave up too much in favor of a rigid certainty. The fact is that Christianity is not monolithic and neither is the biblical canon. I'm not a biblical Christian, because I'm not sure what that would even mean, and I think it leaves out too much of the real ambiguity of life in the Spirit.

As a Christian, I'm invited to join a multigenerational conversation. That conversation includes the ancient Mediterranean who told a story of YHWH making people out of mud, and a later priest who told of Elohim speaking the world into being. It includes the Deuteronomist who tells us the person who follows God's law will be blessed, and Qoholet the proclaimer of Ecclesiastes who observes that he has seen the righteous perish while the wicked live long and prosper. It includes Hildegard of Bingen with her mystic poetry, and John Wesley with his insistence on rationality and method. And, of course, it means following Jesus who argued with the biblical literalists of his day, asked Peter, "What do you think?" and promised an Advocate who would lead us into more truth than can be contained between the covers of a book.

The Benefits of Justice

Today, I was visiting with Paolo Naso, a member of the Waldensian Church in Italy. He told me that after their denomination's 2010 decision to allow ministers to perform same-gender unions, they experienced an unexpected side-effect. In Italy, one can subscribe to a church on one's tax return, and the church gets a percentage of your tax payments. After the 2010 decision, the Waldensians had a 3,500% increase in subscribers. Essentially, for every member on their church rolls, they had 34 other people who told the government, "I'm a Waldensian. Pay them my tax percentage."

Another reason to like the Waldensians: The denomination decided to spend none of this windfall on church government. Not a penny will go to a pastor, or a building, or anything related to keeping themselves in business. Instead, all of the money is earmarked for justice projects -- like their work with immigrant justice, which is why I'm meeting with them this week.

A Poem

Small Grace

You know, I can’t explain it —
no reason, just chance.
I was walking, not thinking of anything
much, when I noticed
a copper spot in the black gravel,
maybe two feet away, just off the sidewalk.
So, I stopped
and bent to see if maybe —
and yes, it was heads up —
a lucky penny!
I dropped it into my pocket,
smiling — thinking.
That’s right,
the universe chose me.

The Fruits of Hell

Recently, a friend attempted to hire a new employee. The new guy was well-qualified, and seemed to be a hard worker. There was one small problem -- his record of violent crimes. He was an alcoholic who could be violent when he was drunk. He was also six-months sober, working a recovery program, and had a parol officer who checked on him every day, to make sure he was still on the right path. Believing in grace, my friend thought he would give the guy a chance, but another employee was aghast. "How dare you put the rest of us in danger like this!" The employee couldn't make the leap to accepting that the new guy might deserve a second chance, and that his violence was connected to his alcoholism. As it happened, this employee, who wasn't as committed to grace as my friend, was also an evangelical Christian.

Later that week, our church book group talked about eternal damnation. During the discussion, it became clear that none of us believed in a God who could give up on people for all eternity. "That God would be a monster," one person said, and I agreed with her. I cannot believe in a God who has less grace than many of the people I know. In hospice and in my work in the recovery community, I've seen people forgive their family members, even when the family didn't deserve forgiveness, and didn't realize what they'd done. Isn't God supposed to be better than us?

As it happened, capital punishment was in the news that week as well, because of an impending double-execution in Oklahoma (an execution that turned into a single, after the first one went terribly wrong). And the combination of these three things -- an evangelical employee unwilling to give a guy a second chance, a conversation about God's grace as opposed to God's eternal damnation, and yet another scheduled execution -- made me realize that belief in eternal damnation has damaged Christianity's soul.

It is no accident that 40% of self-identified practicing Christians believe in capital punishment, while only 5% of people in the same pole thought Jesus would be in favor. Considering we follow Jesus, and say we believe in grace, one might expect Christians to view the death penalty less-favorably than our non-Christian counterparts. However, our numbers are close to the same (and in fact just slightly more favorable) than the general population. Christians, with our longstanding belief in hell and eternal damnation, are just as quick to believe that some people are beyond redemption. If God can banish people to hell forever, then certainly it follows that those people don't deserve grace. And if some people are beyond grace, then why keep them around? Why not execute them, and let their eternal punishment start that much sooner? Unfortunately, anecdotal evidence would show that this lack of grace doesn't just extend to those on death row. When eternal damnation is your fallback position, it's hard not to be poisoned by it.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus says, "Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will know them by their fruits." Belief in eternal damnation has yielded bitter fruit for Christianity -- hearts that lack grace. I think its about time this belief go the way of beliefs about slavery and religious pogroms. Even if it were biblical, it's certainly not good for our souls.

A Poem

Visiting the Living

"Bobby," she says,
"I don't know how many
people are in here,
but will you make sure
everyone has a seat?"
Bobby fetches
a folding chair for me,
so I can sit next to her bed,
sharing stories of her life in Lubbock
with a husband who died that day in May,
and who stands at the end of her bed now.
I don't see him,
but he remembers the details she can't.
"Bob," she says,
I couldn't do this without you."

Why I Don't Proselytize

Recently, I was talking to someone about struggles I've been having with our foster son. After listening to me for a while, this person asked, "Have you considered trying to convert him?"

No. No I haven't. And I won't.

That's not what I said. What I said was, "I hold with St. Francis who said, 'Preach the gospel at all times. If necessary, use words." I feel my call, as a child of God and follower of Jesus, is to love. I must be a channel of God's love to other humans and nonhumans. I can also be a symbol of God's unconditional love in my work as a chaplain and pastor (and I often am). But it's God's job to draw people to grace in the right time and in the right way for them. I don't pretend to know what the right way or time is. It's hard enough to figure out the best way to love people, without feeling like I also have to preach at them, too. 

If there's one thing I've learned in my work as a hospice chaplain, it's that a loving act speaks louder than any words ever could. Often, I have no idea what to say to someone. I can't imagine what they're going through, as they change their mother's diaper. However, I can be present, and I can shine love from every pore of my being. And, when I do that, the crazy thing is that they find the words they need. They hear God talking to them in a language and with a theology that makes sense for them. They find their own way to grace, while I stand as witness.

So, I trust God with my foster son, as I trust God with everyone I meet. I'll keep loving, and I'll let God do the preaching. 

(By the way: It turns out, I was misquoting Francis, but I still hold with the sentiment, which I think Francis would have liked, too.)

Kindergarten Christians

Every time I hear about how American Christians are being persecuted -- because people don't wish us Merry Christmas, or we're not allowed to install a monument to our version of the Ten Commandments, or someone dares to suggest that maybe churches shouldn't get special tax breaks, or because we're told to stop praying "in Jesus name" at government functions -- I think about a friend's son, and how much trouble he had his first year at school. 

We American Christians are like that spoiled child who ends up in kindergarten and suddenly realizes (Oh, horror!) that there are other children. 

Too many Christians stand at the threshold of the 21st century and shout, "What do you mean I have to spend my time in a pluralistic society? You mean I have to share and cooperate with people from other faiths? Wait! You don't mean atheists too?! Waaaah..." And then they throw a mighty, mighty temper tantrum, hurling insults at everyone around them, and breaking things rather than share them with anyone.

I, for one, loved kindergarten. And I'm loving interacting with all the other people in this great-big, beautiful, pluralistic world. Its worth it, to me, to have to share my holidays with other people, and to learn to cooperate with the other kids on the playground, because the other kids are now my friends.