I’m an Episcopalian with a Seventh-day Adventist background. Most of the time, I attend a Lutheran church because it’s closer to my home. Occasionally I am a guest preacher at the Presbyterian Church in town when their pastor is away.
I teach world religions at a Roman Catholic college, and recently I was invited to make a presentation on Islam for the local Unitarian Universalist Church. Next year, in early spring, I will be doing a series of three meetings at another church on American denominations.
I’m not a gadfly or church shopper. I like being an Episcopalian. I find theological breathing room in the Episcopal Church. I find a lot of nonsense, too. But isn’t there nonsense in every church? There’s Lutheran and Presbyterian nonsense, Catholic nonsense, Methodist nonsense, Baptist nonsense, evangelical and fundamentalist nonsense, and on and on.
Every church has nonsense in it.
When I teach world religions, I tell the students that no one can swallow any religious tradition whole. We all pick and choose what makes sense to us while filtering out the nonsense, usually by ignoring it. I don’t believe that most people care all that much about theology. Most church members are not theologically astute and do not read theological books. Most people do not join a church because they’ve studied its theology in detail and worked through all the thorny issues.
No, we cannot swallow any religious tradition whole. We all pick and choose what matters most to us, and let the rest roll off.
The Lutheran Church I occasionally attend has great doughnuts and coffee between worship services. I have some wonderful conversations with people. It’s fun. It’s part of Christian fellowship and community and a sense of belonging. People don’t believe in order to belong; they belong in order to believe. It’s like St. Anselm said: “Theology is faith seeking understanding.”
Perhaps the pattern is this: Belonging-Faith-Understanding. And as we mature in faith, we are better able to sort through everything and filter out the nonsense.
October 30, 2011
October 13, 2011
The Fear-Based Rhetoric of Robert Jeffress & Co.
According to Pastor Robert Jeffress, Mormonism is a cult, Islam, Hindusim, and Buddhism are “false religions,” and the Roman Catholic Church came out of paganism. Members of his Dallas congregation clap when he says these things.
Jeffress has been pounding his chest recently and asserting a triumphalistic theology rooted, I believe, in fear. He supports Rick Perry and has urged evangelical Christians to vote for Perry, not the Mormon, Mitt Romney.
Jeffress is a Southern Baptist preacher. I wish he could visit my World Religions class sometime and learn something. I wish he could visit the many Christian churches that hold classes on the non-Christian religions in order to learn something. But pastors like Jeffress are more committed to fear-based rhetoric than learning something.
Peel back the onion of the conservative Christian rhetoric and you will find fear. Fear of gays, fear of women, fear of Obama, fear of liberals, fear of Mormons, and fear of the non-Christian religions. It’s all about fear.
The fear is usually masked by chest-pounding. The more fear, the louder these preachers shout. It’s an embattled spirituality that is reacting to a world that has passed them by. The Religious Right wants to “take back America.” What this means is they want to remake America into the image of their fear-based, dogmatic theology.
It won’t work. The majority of us don’t live there, and we don’t want to. To affirm the narrow worldview of Pastor Robert Jeffress is to take a huge step backwards and relive the religious ignorance and bigotry of a former age.
Furthermore, Mormons and non-Christians aren’t going away. They are all here to stay. It’s time to stop the fear-based rhetoric and learn something.
Jeffress has been pounding his chest recently and asserting a triumphalistic theology rooted, I believe, in fear. He supports Rick Perry and has urged evangelical Christians to vote for Perry, not the Mormon, Mitt Romney.
Jeffress is a Southern Baptist preacher. I wish he could visit my World Religions class sometime and learn something. I wish he could visit the many Christian churches that hold classes on the non-Christian religions in order to learn something. But pastors like Jeffress are more committed to fear-based rhetoric than learning something.
Peel back the onion of the conservative Christian rhetoric and you will find fear. Fear of gays, fear of women, fear of Obama, fear of liberals, fear of Mormons, and fear of the non-Christian religions. It’s all about fear.
The fear is usually masked by chest-pounding. The more fear, the louder these preachers shout. It’s an embattled spirituality that is reacting to a world that has passed them by. The Religious Right wants to “take back America.” What this means is they want to remake America into the image of their fear-based, dogmatic theology.
It won’t work. The majority of us don’t live there, and we don’t want to. To affirm the narrow worldview of Pastor Robert Jeffress is to take a huge step backwards and relive the religious ignorance and bigotry of a former age.
Furthermore, Mormons and non-Christians aren’t going away. They are all here to stay. It’s time to stop the fear-based rhetoric and learn something.
May 17, 2011
Great Personalities and Christian Theology
Great and gifted personalities arise throughout history. Their influence is so powerful they cannot be ignored.
In Christian theology we think of the Apostle Paul, Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Martin Luther, John Calvin, Friedrich Schleiermacher, Karl Barth, and Karl Rahner. The Christian tradition has been shaped by these men, all of whom viewed theology as the servant of the church. All of them attempted in one way or another to interpret the content of the Christian faith for their times. None of them arrived at truth without a personal struggle. A number of them were criticized severely and thought to be heretics.
And all of them are now dead, but their influence is still with us. Anyone seriously studying the history of Christian thought must pass through these personalities.
Theology doesn’t stand still. Christian theology is reflection on a living faith. It cannot afford to become brittle. Dogmas and doctrines can be outgrown, but Christ still remains. If Christian theology is the intellect applied to Christian beliefs and behavior, it must keep pace with every new generation, everything, in other words, that has to do with being “human.”
Jesus said the wise householder brings out of his treasure things both old and new (Matt 13:51-53). This is the task of theology—to reappraise the old in light of the new and to interpret the new in light of the old. What makes great theologians “great” is their creative power to reconstruct and reinterpret the Christian faith for their generation. This is why the task of theology moves on, synthesizing the old and the new, critiquing the tradition, formulating new approaches, and so forth.
Yet through it all, Christian theology is committed to the redeeming work of Jesus Christ as it is remembered, proclaimed, and lived in and through the church and in the lives of Christians. One could argue that all Christian theology is reflection on John 1:14: “The Word became flesh and lived among us.” Christian theology is Christology, no matter what topic is being discussed. Jesus of Nazareth—his person and work—is the normative center of Christian living, the church, and theology.
In the end, it really is about God’s self-disclosure through Jesus, and what this means for us and for the world.
In Christian theology we think of the Apostle Paul, Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Martin Luther, John Calvin, Friedrich Schleiermacher, Karl Barth, and Karl Rahner. The Christian tradition has been shaped by these men, all of whom viewed theology as the servant of the church. All of them attempted in one way or another to interpret the content of the Christian faith for their times. None of them arrived at truth without a personal struggle. A number of them were criticized severely and thought to be heretics.
And all of them are now dead, but their influence is still with us. Anyone seriously studying the history of Christian thought must pass through these personalities.
Theology doesn’t stand still. Christian theology is reflection on a living faith. It cannot afford to become brittle. Dogmas and doctrines can be outgrown, but Christ still remains. If Christian theology is the intellect applied to Christian beliefs and behavior, it must keep pace with every new generation, everything, in other words, that has to do with being “human.”
Jesus said the wise householder brings out of his treasure things both old and new (Matt 13:51-53). This is the task of theology—to reappraise the old in light of the new and to interpret the new in light of the old. What makes great theologians “great” is their creative power to reconstruct and reinterpret the Christian faith for their generation. This is why the task of theology moves on, synthesizing the old and the new, critiquing the tradition, formulating new approaches, and so forth.
Yet through it all, Christian theology is committed to the redeeming work of Jesus Christ as it is remembered, proclaimed, and lived in and through the church and in the lives of Christians. One could argue that all Christian theology is reflection on John 1:14: “The Word became flesh and lived among us.” Christian theology is Christology, no matter what topic is being discussed. Jesus of Nazareth—his person and work—is the normative center of Christian living, the church, and theology.
In the end, it really is about God’s self-disclosure through Jesus, and what this means for us and for the world.
April 28, 2011
Welcome to the Yellow Pages . . . and religion
The Yellow Pages of the phone book reflect the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century. If one flips to the “Churches” section, one should be prepared for confusion. The confusion of the Reformation lives on.
Where did all these churches and sects come from? They came primarily from the Protestant Reformation. That is when Europe blew up. When all the pieces finally landed, tens of thousands of people had died, incredible suffering had taken place, church creeds and confessions had arisen, political boundaries had been altered, and Protestantism was an international patchwork of churches competing with each other and maintaining their identities distinct from the Roman Catholic Church.
Whoever thinks the Protestant Reformation was a small blip on the screen of European and North American history, does not understand history.
In sixteenth century Europe, a person could be killed for not believing in the Trinity, for attending a Catholic mass, or for reading an English Bible. In France, the Psalms were set to music by Protestants; French Protestants went to the stake singing the psalms, which is why their tongues were first cut out.
William Tyndale was burned at the stake for translating the Bible into English. Sir Thomas More was beheaded for siding with the Catholic Church instead of King Henry VIII.
Anabaptists were drowned for their belief in baptism by immersion and their rejection of infant baptism. In some Protestant cities, people were fined or imprisoned for skipping a church service. That’s how things were back then. There was no “separation of church and state.” Religion was political and politics were always caught up in religion.
There was constant war. The wars didn’t end until 1648, when an exhausted Europe agreed to a ceasefire and Protestants and Catholics agreed to disagree without budging an inch on their different beliefs. There was no reconciliation. By that time, Protestants were fleeing to America and bringing their divisions with them.
Welcome to the Yellow Pages!
We take religious freedom for granted; we shouldn’t. If you own a Bible, remember that its pages are soaked in blood. Next time you read the Psalms, remember those French Protestants. Next time you attend a Catholic mass, remember the Catholics in sixteenth century England, rescuing priests on the run… when Catholicism was illegal.
Where did all these churches and sects come from? They came primarily from the Protestant Reformation. That is when Europe blew up. When all the pieces finally landed, tens of thousands of people had died, incredible suffering had taken place, church creeds and confessions had arisen, political boundaries had been altered, and Protestantism was an international patchwork of churches competing with each other and maintaining their identities distinct from the Roman Catholic Church.
Whoever thinks the Protestant Reformation was a small blip on the screen of European and North American history, does not understand history.
In sixteenth century Europe, a person could be killed for not believing in the Trinity, for attending a Catholic mass, or for reading an English Bible. In France, the Psalms were set to music by Protestants; French Protestants went to the stake singing the psalms, which is why their tongues were first cut out.
William Tyndale was burned at the stake for translating the Bible into English. Sir Thomas More was beheaded for siding with the Catholic Church instead of King Henry VIII.
Anabaptists were drowned for their belief in baptism by immersion and their rejection of infant baptism. In some Protestant cities, people were fined or imprisoned for skipping a church service. That’s how things were back then. There was no “separation of church and state.” Religion was political and politics were always caught up in religion.
There was constant war. The wars didn’t end until 1648, when an exhausted Europe agreed to a ceasefire and Protestants and Catholics agreed to disagree without budging an inch on their different beliefs. There was no reconciliation. By that time, Protestants were fleeing to America and bringing their divisions with them.
Welcome to the Yellow Pages!
We take religious freedom for granted; we shouldn’t. If you own a Bible, remember that its pages are soaked in blood. Next time you read the Psalms, remember those French Protestants. Next time you attend a Catholic mass, remember the Catholics in sixteenth century England, rescuing priests on the run… when Catholicism was illegal.
April 22, 2011
Good Friday and the God who can be trusted
After Gethsemane, Jesus walked to the cross a free man. So it is with us when we finally come to terms with “necessary losses.”
Jesus came to terms with the death of a dream, the dream that somehow the kingdom of God would come and Israel would repent and everyone would live happily ever after. This was not to be. The night in Gethsemane made this perfectly clear. He would die, and Israel would not live happily ever after.
But Jesus accepted this as God’s will. He put his trust in the God who can be trusted to bring new life out of death, new life from our crucified dreams.
Jesus walked to the cross a free man because he trusted the God who can be trusted in life and in death—even beyond death.
For the past two years I’ve been managing the estate of my deceased parents. At times it has felt like a two-year long Good Friday, without an Easter! I am so ready now for Resurrection that I can taste it. Even the pain of letting go gets old after a while. We get tired of wrestling with “letting go” and realize it’s time to move on.
Good Friday is about facing the stark reality of loss and letting go. It is about the death of a dream that perhaps never had a chance to survive in the first place. There was no way, for example, that Israel was ever going to repent and receive Jesus as the Messiah. That dream never had a chance.
And sometimes there is no way that some of our wants and needs will ever survive. Grief is the seasoning of daily life. Necessary losses are a part of life. But so is hope, as long as we trust the God who can be trusted to bring new life out of death.
The “genius” of Christianity is this core theme of death-resurrection. It reverberates throughout the life of Jesus. It is why, despite all our losses and the ongoing death of our dreams, we can walk into the future as free people. We can face losses as free people, unsaddled, unshackled, ready to let go our grip on things because we are in God’s loving grasp—no matter what.
We can trust, like Jesus, the God who can be trusted.
Jesus came to terms with the death of a dream, the dream that somehow the kingdom of God would come and Israel would repent and everyone would live happily ever after. This was not to be. The night in Gethsemane made this perfectly clear. He would die, and Israel would not live happily ever after.
But Jesus accepted this as God’s will. He put his trust in the God who can be trusted to bring new life out of death, new life from our crucified dreams.
Jesus walked to the cross a free man because he trusted the God who can be trusted in life and in death—even beyond death.
For the past two years I’ve been managing the estate of my deceased parents. At times it has felt like a two-year long Good Friday, without an Easter! I am so ready now for Resurrection that I can taste it. Even the pain of letting go gets old after a while. We get tired of wrestling with “letting go” and realize it’s time to move on.
Good Friday is about facing the stark reality of loss and letting go. It is about the death of a dream that perhaps never had a chance to survive in the first place. There was no way, for example, that Israel was ever going to repent and receive Jesus as the Messiah. That dream never had a chance.
And sometimes there is no way that some of our wants and needs will ever survive. Grief is the seasoning of daily life. Necessary losses are a part of life. But so is hope, as long as we trust the God who can be trusted to bring new life out of death.
The “genius” of Christianity is this core theme of death-resurrection. It reverberates throughout the life of Jesus. It is why, despite all our losses and the ongoing death of our dreams, we can walk into the future as free people. We can face losses as free people, unsaddled, unshackled, ready to let go our grip on things because we are in God’s loving grasp—no matter what.
We can trust, like Jesus, the God who can be trusted.
April 8, 2011
Why “the separation of church and state” is good for religion
I do not believe that religion is self-regulating or tolerant regarding social power unless constrained by democratic mechanisms based on liberty, equality, due process, human rights, and social justice. Without these values and principles, we might still be killing each other in the name of God.
For example, the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century never arrived at a consensus on the issue of church and state. Many people died on the battlefield of church/state relations.
Ironically, the Reformation unintentionally contributed to toleration. Religious wars and cruel bloodshed proved that religion could not manage itself. The different Christian churches and sects, if allowed to, would destroy each other for the sake of their “truth.”
A couple of hundred years later, “the separation of church and state” appeared to be the best guarantee of both religious toleration and social order. Unfortunately, religion has not demonstrated that it can handle unchecked social power without becoming intolerant and totalitarian.
If I were to begin building a social order from scratch, I would not put religion in charge. Religion would have a place, but it would not be in charge. This, to me, is the meaning of “the separation of church and state.”
This is actually good for religion. It is not good for religion to have the state meddling in its affairs. It is not good for religion to be ruled by secular politicians. It is not good for religion to be co-opted to the secular powers. It is not good for religion to be an arm of the government. It is not good for religion to be manipulated and exploited by policy makers. It is not good for religion to depend on the state to enforce its beliefs and rituals on others. In order to maintain its integrity, religion must remain free of state control.
Religion at its best should be a prophetic voice calling all governments to account to a transcendent moral standard. This is the prophetic role of religion. It speaks out against injustice, it calls into question blind nationalism, and it challenges economic policies and militarism.
Religion should speak out on behalf of the poor, the vulnerable, the needy, and the oppressed. Religion should take a stand for a transcendent order and a moral law grounded in God. It should stand in judgment of all governments and worship none. When religion does this, it is fulfilling its main function in relation to the state. But religion cannot do this apart from the separation of church and state.
For example, the Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century never arrived at a consensus on the issue of church and state. Many people died on the battlefield of church/state relations.
Ironically, the Reformation unintentionally contributed to toleration. Religious wars and cruel bloodshed proved that religion could not manage itself. The different Christian churches and sects, if allowed to, would destroy each other for the sake of their “truth.”
A couple of hundred years later, “the separation of church and state” appeared to be the best guarantee of both religious toleration and social order. Unfortunately, religion has not demonstrated that it can handle unchecked social power without becoming intolerant and totalitarian.
If I were to begin building a social order from scratch, I would not put religion in charge. Religion would have a place, but it would not be in charge. This, to me, is the meaning of “the separation of church and state.”
This is actually good for religion. It is not good for religion to have the state meddling in its affairs. It is not good for religion to be ruled by secular politicians. It is not good for religion to be co-opted to the secular powers. It is not good for religion to be an arm of the government. It is not good for religion to be manipulated and exploited by policy makers. It is not good for religion to depend on the state to enforce its beliefs and rituals on others. In order to maintain its integrity, religion must remain free of state control.
Religion at its best should be a prophetic voice calling all governments to account to a transcendent moral standard. This is the prophetic role of religion. It speaks out against injustice, it calls into question blind nationalism, and it challenges economic policies and militarism.
Religion should speak out on behalf of the poor, the vulnerable, the needy, and the oppressed. Religion should take a stand for a transcendent order and a moral law grounded in God. It should stand in judgment of all governments and worship none. When religion does this, it is fulfilling its main function in relation to the state. But religion cannot do this apart from the separation of church and state.
March 19, 2011
Crisis fatigue and the NCAA basketball tournament
Now and then we all need a mental break from the stress of life. In our imperfect world, imperfection rambles on day after day, problem after problem, one crisis following another. Even Jesus said to his disciples, “Come apart and rest a while.” He himself would disappear from time to time and no one knew where he was. Even Jesus needed a break!
This past week our news has been full of Japan’s disaster, Libya’s war, and more arguing about budgets and unions and boycotts. These are all serious matters, but I wonder if we’re not feeling some “crisis fatigue.” I know I am. Sometimes it’s all too much . . . too much pain and suffering, too much anger and hate, too much nonsense.
Now some people deal with crisis fatigue by getting drunk or using drugs or going on a shopping spree or maxing out their credit cards or going to movies or concerts or whatever. Yard work is nice way to get some space and forget the world, too. But it’s too early for yard work. Rats!
This is why I love the silliness of the NCAA basketball tournament. Think about it. Football season is over and baseball hasn’t really started yet. The NBA is a joke and I don’t know anyone personally who takes hockey seriously (doesn’t hockey last through June now?). So I wait for March Madness and hope my Wisconsin Badgers do well in the tournament.
I fill out my brackets and keep my fingers crossed. I don’t watch most of the games, but I keep up on the scores. It’s a nice mental break from crisis fatigue. Reality will be there when it’s all over. Japan will still be a mess, Libya will still be on the brink of self-destruction, the budget still won’t be balanced, and people will still either love or hate Gov. Scott Walker. Republicans and Democrats will still not get along with each other, the rich will still be getting richer and poor poorer, and Charlie Sheen will still be sounding stupid and deranged.
But for now, I’m following the advice of Jesus: “Come apart and rest a while.” For me that means filling out my brackets and watching some good basketball.
So far, so good. I’m 20-12 in my picks—62.5%. That’s better than most politicians and their predictions about the future.
This past week our news has been full of Japan’s disaster, Libya’s war, and more arguing about budgets and unions and boycotts. These are all serious matters, but I wonder if we’re not feeling some “crisis fatigue.” I know I am. Sometimes it’s all too much . . . too much pain and suffering, too much anger and hate, too much nonsense.
Now some people deal with crisis fatigue by getting drunk or using drugs or going on a shopping spree or maxing out their credit cards or going to movies or concerts or whatever. Yard work is nice way to get some space and forget the world, too. But it’s too early for yard work. Rats!
This is why I love the silliness of the NCAA basketball tournament. Think about it. Football season is over and baseball hasn’t really started yet. The NBA is a joke and I don’t know anyone personally who takes hockey seriously (doesn’t hockey last through June now?). So I wait for March Madness and hope my Wisconsin Badgers do well in the tournament.
I fill out my brackets and keep my fingers crossed. I don’t watch most of the games, but I keep up on the scores. It’s a nice mental break from crisis fatigue. Reality will be there when it’s all over. Japan will still be a mess, Libya will still be on the brink of self-destruction, the budget still won’t be balanced, and people will still either love or hate Gov. Scott Walker. Republicans and Democrats will still not get along with each other, the rich will still be getting richer and poor poorer, and Charlie Sheen will still be sounding stupid and deranged.
But for now, I’m following the advice of Jesus: “Come apart and rest a while.” For me that means filling out my brackets and watching some good basketball.
So far, so good. I’m 20-12 in my picks—62.5%. That’s better than most politicians and their predictions about the future.
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