Are you sick of the
belligerence that increasingly characterizes our culture and our way of living
and relating? I am. Sadly, there are some who seem to relish the antagonism,
and actually to delight in provoking it (“Let’s you and him fight!”).
Sometimes I lose hope
of seeing humanity united and cooperating; of seeing people of different
persuasions coming together to glean the best from each of their different
outlooks, and creating a new reality better than their previously held dogmas.
In recent efforts to
understand the roots of the current animosity, I looked to my own discipline:
Christian theology and church history. Beginning with Augustine in the 4th
century, mainstream Christianity took a discernable turn toward law over grace.
That happens in virtually
every movement, religious or otherwise. As entrepreneurial founders begin to
age, they tend to become caretakers and defenders of their accomplishments.
Thus, begins the paradigm shift from movement to institution.
Each succeeding
generation adds to the growing set of rules and procedural codes (as in the
Constitution of the United States with its amendments and expanding volumes of
interpretive laws and codices).
In the Judaism
described in the Bible, the trend reached its zenith in the pharisaism Jesus
confronted. In Christian history the penchant for rules over grace maxed out
under John Calvin and, later in England, the Puritans.
Oppressed in Europe,
the Puritans came to America, and were the dominant socio/religious force in
colonial America. Most Christian sects in America reflected the harshness of
Puritanism, well into the middle of the twentieth century. During the
infamously rebellious 1960s, a secularized[1][1]
form of Christianity emerged. It rejected the harsh, judgmental, punitive images
of God, in favor of a more Christ-like image.
That “more
secularized” movement culminated in the last couple of decades into what some
have called the “Emerging Church.” In response, the Calvinist/Puritan-oriented
bodies doubled down own their insistence that their image of God, and only
their image, was the truth, declaring open season on any who disagreed.
The trouble was, each
denomination and sect claimed its own set of rules that defined truth; so,
everybody was fighting with everybody, and the “spiritually yearning,
institutionally disillusioned public”[2]
was leaving the church. In the panic over the loss of members (and offerings),
the institutional church ramped up its condemnatory rhetoric, which, in turn,
drove still more members and offerings into the streets.
Essentially, the
Calvinist/Puritan inflexibility was less about seeking truth, and more about
proving that I/We already have the truth. The church generally was seen as
issuing an ultimatum; and people (particularly those in the millennial
generations) stereotyped all churches as judgmental and unforgiving, and they
fled en masse from the model in which
they were unable to sense the presence of Jesus.
I developed an
hypothesis: Given that through the middle of the twentieth century, American
culture generally was molded by some expression of Christianity, and given the
generally judgmental and hostile stereotype into which all churches were
lumped, it seemed reasonable that the current cultural and political
fractiousness were in that mix, somewhere. I still believe there is a level in
which that hypothesis is valid.
But the
pre-Augustinian church already was divided. Paul’s epistles often address
congregational division. Some creeds (the Apostles’ Creed and the Creed of
Nicaea) emerged prior to the time of Augustine.
In colonial America
the political divisiveness already was so bitter that duels to the death were
fought.
So, the search for
the origins of our current socio/political enmity is like peeling an onion. For
the present, I lean toward considering it to be the nature of broken humanity.
Maybe it’s not only what we have become. Maybe humans always have been like this;
and we are living out our brokenness, rather than living out Jesus' prayer that
his followers would become one, as he and his heavenly father were one (John
17:20-21).
Hard sins linked to
sexual immorality or religious heresy notwithstanding, could it be that our
primary need for repentance is from the primordial state of human brokenness out of which all other brokenness arises?
Are we tinkering with symptoms and ignoring the cause?
Repentance does not
require regret or remorse; nor does it necessarily involve penitence or
penance. The word means, simply, to turn; essentially, to turn from one way of
doing and being to another.
I try to not obsess
over things I cannot control. Occasionally I even succeed! I don’t know how to
influence the general turn of ideologies toward “us all becoming one.” But I can control how I respond; and I perhaps can influence one or a
few persons to consider unity over division. That outlook forms the basis of my
own repentance in regard to the focus of this writing.
How about this: evil
always needs to be confronted; but, before we mount our white horse and charge
into the fray, could we take a bit of time, first,
to set aside the temptation to blame everyone but ourselves for the way things
are, and to engage, instead, in some
tangible act intended to make the world better, if only for a moment; if only
for one other person?
If we could start
each day planning to act or participate proactively in some constructive
activity, before turning to the
headlines or (worse) Facebook tirades or Twitter harangues, would a
constructive outlook lead to a more effective way of responding to those who
disagree with us? It’s at least an attempt to be a part of the solution, rather
than the problem.
What is there to
lose? Is our current culture of denunciation and vilification leading toward a
better world?
That’s the way it
looks through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.
Together in the walk,
Jim
[1] Secular, not in
rejection of God, Scripture or Christianity, but rather, in rejection of what
was deemed a distortion of God,
Scripture and Christianity. In other words, a rejection of the
institutionalization of Christianity.
[2] A description coined by
Thomas G. Bandy in Christian Chaos
and other of his writings.
