Showing posts with label doctrinal absolutism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctrinal absolutism. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 13, 2019

Indivisible


I don’t recall how it began, but yesterday I was thinking about that phrase in our Pledge of Allegiance: “…under God…” Apparently there are some people who oppose it, if social media posts can be trusted. Frankly, I don’t remember any comments to that effect. What I do remember is a lot of social media posts defending it in ways that make it seem there is a concerted, organized attack on it.
Anyway, it occurred to me that the implication is strong, if not intended, that being “one nation under God” is what makes us “indivisible.” The two concepts at least are related; therefore, what can be concluded from the obvious: that the United States a is not, in fact, one nation indivisible—under God or otherwise? We are a divided nation, a “nation coming apart at the seams, a nation in which each tribe has its own narrative and the narratives are generally resentment narratives."[1]
I expect the knee-jerk response is, “I and my tribe are under God. If everyone would just be like us, we’d be indivisible!” It may describe “undivided;” however, it does not describe “united”, as in States of America. It describes uniformity. There’s a difference. Uniformity is related much more closely to satisfaction and complacency than to growth and progress.
If we truly desire to be indivisible as a nation, why aren’t we engaging in efforts toward reconciliation and unity, instead of raging at each other over the slightest differences of opinion.
Some things are clear: first, we’ll never agree about what “under God” means. One source identifies 35 Protestant Denominations in the USA, most of them sub-divided into numerous branches and schisms. The founders of the denomination I serve envisioned a Christian coop through which could be realized their proposition “That the Church of Christ upon earth is essentially, intentionally, and constitutionally one…”[2] Today their “Restoration Movement” to unite all Christendom is splintered into three distinct (and often antagonistic) denominations.
Christian history is a chronicle of uninterrupted human division. Furthermore, in this land of religious freedom, the number of Protestant Denominations doesn’t begin to account for the variety of ways in which deity is perceived and worshiped. 
So, how do all those denominations and schisms emerge? Some charismatic person becomes convinced that he or she has a unique and unerring insight into God’s will and intention and convinces a group of followers to break away with him or her. The power behind most schisms is the magnetic persuasiveness of the founder who has a splinter of truth, rather than the presence and leading of the Spirit of God in whom alone dwells absolute truth. [The Protestant Reformation, perceived by Protestants (sic) as a valid response to corrupt leadership in the Mother Church, notwithstanding. In most cases I expect every schism represents itself as “restoring true faith;” but that’s another blog.]
We can’t agree on who God is or how we are to relate to God; nor can we agree on what it means to be God’s people. Therefore, we render the term, “under God,” essentially meaningless.
A second clear reality is that our current strategy of insulting and vilifying and demonizing everyone who disagrees with us cannot possibly be considered a faithful embodiment of the presence of God under whom we claim to be “indivisible”. Such interpersonal animosity has not produced—nor will it ever produce—indivisibility; nor has it created—or will it ever create—a climate in which an indivisible nation can thrive or even emerge.
Finally, the familiar tactic of demanding conformity to our own ideology has been equally unproductive in affecting any kind of indivisibility. I’ve said before: my favorite definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and expecting a different result.
The greatest irony of all is that out of the vast variety of Christian doctrinal communities, the consensus message perceived by a “spiritually yearning, institutionally pissed off public”[3] is that we really don’t believe what we claim to believe. We are perceived as hypocrites. 
We wave the “Grace” flag, as if we really believe it: “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9 NRSV). Most of us who grew up in the church can sing “Amazing Grace” from memory. 
But an overwhelming number of professing Christians don’t believe it, if their witness by word and deed is accurate. What too many professing Christians’ lives testify—and the consensus stereotype by which that spiritually disillusioned public judges us all—is that we are saved by affirming correct doctrine—being “right”--and excluding everyone who doesn't affirm our correct doctrine.
I’m just not willing to bet my eternal destiny on the correctness of doctrine, knowing full well that my perception is limited by the clay of which I am made. Instead, I’ll place my trust in the One who alone is my doctrine, and I’ll confess in the words of St. Paul:
For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; 10but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. 11When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. 12For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. 13And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love. (I Corinthians 13:9-13 NRSV)
And therein lies what I believe is the only credible doorway through which we may finally live out our pledge to become an “indivisible” nation: “The greatest of these is love.” 
We’ll never agree. On much of anything. But, in love, we can seek to understand each other and to embrace our differences, not necessarily as error, but as partial truth. And in that effort to transcend our antagonistic obsession with uniformity, I suspect we’ll discover a more nearly complete indivisibility.
That’s the way I see it through the Flawed Glass that is my world view.
Together in the Walk,
Jim

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Lifting Up Christ

A common foundation for doctrinal absolutism is the dictum, “God said it; I believe it; and that settles it.” Too often, the reality is that God didn’t say it. Some fourth-grade Sunday School teacher or some preacher with serious control issues said it.
See, here’s the thing: too many of us Christians don’t trust God to be God and to do the things God does. Too many of us don’t really believe in Grace as unmerited favor. We think, in our arrogance, that Grace is dependent upon the inerrancy of our proclamation and the absolute necessity of our agenda. And so, we bang away at inflicting our tunnel-vision obsessions about how things “ought” to be, instead of lifting up Jesus.
Jesus said (my paraphrase) “If I am lifted up, I will draw all people to me;”[1] but, we don’t really believe that, so we bang away at abortion and homosexuality and correct doctrine and social justice, and we debate each other over issues of individual responsibility versus social responsibility. And we—not God—demand conformity to our understanding of eternal mysteries. Moreover, much of our babbling is informed more by political ideology and social prejudices than by the biblical witness!
In the process, our efforts have done more harm than good, and the result is a shattered Body of Christ. Today’s most visible and verbal manifestations of Church are driving more people away from Christ than they attract.
Jesus said, “If I am lifted up, I will draw all people to me.” What therefore is suggested by the fact that more people are fleeing the church than are uniting in a common extension of Jesus’ life and ministry? Do I need to spell it out?
In Luke 10:5-9, Jesus sent 70 disciples on their first mission, giving them specific instructions. While some would argue that it’s a different version of the same event, all three Synoptic Gospel report the sending out of the 12, with similar instructions.[2]
In his parting instructions in Matthew 28 and in Acts 1, Jesus commissioned his disciples to “Go … and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.” (Matthew 28:19-20 NRSV) And “…you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” Luke 1:8 (NRSV)
My point is this: in every case the instructions were to go [without compensation beyond room and board; but that’s another issue altogether], to offer peace, to cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons, to proclaim the good news of the kingdom, and to “make disciples” and “be my witnesses.”
The sum of Jesus’ instructions included serving and ministering to the sick and marginalized people (“the least of these”[3]) and proclaiming “good news” related to the kingdom of heaven. There is nothing in his instructions about judging or condemning. Indeed, he was notorious for hobnobbing with whores and Publicans, and said those people were more fit than the religious elite for the kingdom of God. It was about “lifting up,” rather than about “putting down.” That kind of gospel attracted followers and created disciples!
When Jesus’ ministry did involve criticism or condemnation it virtually always was aimed at those whose priorities elevated power and wealth over compassion and spirituality, who mistreated the poor, the widows, the lepers and the dispossessed, and who used religious authority (and/or a fusion of religious and political power) to benefit themselves and keep dissidents in their place.
Jesus described the kingdom and his own role in it as sacrificial service. He summed up his first sermon by saying (my paraphrase again), “Seek first the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness, and all your other concerns will find their proper place in your lives.” (Matthew 6:33)
But too many of us don’t believe that. The “spiritually yearning but institutionally disillusioned public”[4] avoids the church because they see us struggling to exert our political/religious agenda, using whatever ends-justify-the-means strategy necessary to accomplish the task. That’s what they see; and in too many cases their vision is accurate. Sadly, like most everyone else, they stereotype all expressions of organized Christianity on the basis of those impressions. Thus the reality of a fragmented church trying to minister in a fragmented world.
The most verbal proclaimers of Christianity don’t truly believe that if we simply point to Jesus, lift him up and seek first the kingdom, the kingdom will come, “on earth as it is in heaven.” And the harder they work at lifting up their agendas of condemnation and coercion, and as long as they insist on conformity to their ideologies and agendas as prerequisites to grace and inclusion in God’s kingdom, the longer the kingdom’s coming will be delayed.
That’s the way I see it through the “Flawed Glass” that is my world view.
Together in the Walk,
Jim


[1] I understand the context in which Jesus said this and acknowledge that his intention was much broader than my application here; however, I believe my understanding is not contrary to the overall teachings and ministry of Jesus. I am open to discussion on the matter.
[2] Matthew 10:7-11; Mark 6:8-13; Luke 9:2-6.
[3] Matthew 25:40, 45
[4] A term coined and developed by Thomas G. Bandy in Christian Chaos, Kicking Habits, Moving off the Map, Growing Spiritual Redwoods, et. al.