Between
me and any other human there are infinitely more similarities than differences.
That’s
a bold statement, especially in a culture that has become obsessed with
eliminating differences—in a culture that is persuaded that differences and
disagreements are bad and assumes that conformity is good (as long as I am the
standard to which everyone must conform)—in a culture that does not recognize
or accept the enrichment that emerges out of diversity—in a culture in which defenders
of differing ideologies demonize each other.
Nevertheless,
I maintain that we agree much more than we disagree—about almost everything.
We
all agree that justice is better than injustice.
We
all agree that good is better than evil.
We
all agree that right is better than wrong.
But
we don’t always agree on the definitions of justice, good and right.
Christians
generally agree on the reality of God, and agree that God is the Creator of the
Universe, the Redeemer of all that is broken in creation, and the Sustainer of
all that is eternal. If we humans could leave it there and simply stand in awe
before that reality and respond in adoration and praise and in commitment to live
in harmony with the redemptive, sustaining work of God in creation, life would
be as God intended life to be.
Moreover,
Christians generally agree that Jesus of Nazareth completely manifested the
redemptive work of God.
But
(and you can pick almost any other point in Christian history as a starting
point), within the first generation of Christianity somebody said, “This is specifically
how God accomplished redemption through Jesus, and you must agree with my
assessment or you’re wrong.” And immediately there was established the
dichotomy of orthodoxy vs. heresy.
The need to identify heresy is an act of insecurity, and manifests a need to be in control of our eternal destiny. It's the fruit of the tree of which, when we eat it, we will know the difference between good and evil (Genesis 3:1-5). When we know what we have to do, then we won't have to trust some mysterious creator deity. If we obey the rules, that deity will be obligated to favor us in our eternal destiny.
Orthodoxy
replaced the pure response of awe and adoration and praise and shifted the
focus from the awesomeness of God to human works; and no matter how high we fly the grace flag, the message we send with our lives is "you've gotta' jump through my hoops or you're out". The focus shifted from relating to God to being right and demonizing
those who don't affirm my perception of right. And we've been fighting ever since.
“In
the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth…” (Genesis 1:1). That
should have been enough. But somewhere along the way somebody decided to limit
the possible ways God could have accomplished that task, and orthodoxy and
heresy were created: “There’s only one way God could have done it, and you agree
with me or you’re out.”
So to this day we square off and fight over “creationism” vs “intelligent design” vs “evolution”,
and God gets shoved into a corner and essentially forgotten in the preoccupation
with being “right.”
And
in the process of eliminating disagreements, the larger arena of our
agreements, upon which we could work together collaboratively to fulfill our
divine calling to build a more just, good and “right” world (“…on earth as it
is in heaven…”), gets lost in the shuffle. And God is neither adored nor
praised—nor impressed.
"And I will show you a still more excellent way. If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal" (I Corinthians 12:31-13:1).
"And I will show you a still more excellent way. If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal" (I Corinthians 12:31-13:1).
That’s
how I see it through the flawed glass that is my world view.
Together
in the Walk,
Jim