One compelling point that MacCulloch brings up is recent research into what scholars refer to as "the historical Jesus" - in other words, what Jesus was really like and what he actually said. For the most part it's impossible to know with absolute certainty which of the sayings attributed to Jesus in the Gospels were actually spoken by him (though some have greater or lesser degrees of probability) but what we can say with confidence is things like this:
"There is much punishing fire flickering round the preacher's [Jesus'] words. There is nothing gentle, meek or mild about the driving force behind these stabbing inversions of normal expectations [the Beatitudes]. They form a code of life which is a chorus of love directed to the loveless or unlovable, of painful honesty expressing itself with embarrassing directness, of joyful rejection of any counsel suggesting careful self-regard or prudence. That, apparently, is what the Kingdom of God is like" (88).
This rings true. Above all else, Jesus' message must have been deeply arresting in its directness and urgency. God's reign - the vision of a world in which things on earth would be as they are in heaven - was startling in the radicalness of its inclusivity and the challenge it directed to the assumptions and priorities of the age. This was a message that would prove a stumbling block and an obstacle for many - especially the religious and political authorities of the time - but would also open up the possibility of a kind of love that can transform lives irrevocably.
Jesus' message, this robust "chorus of love," remains compelling and fresh in its immediacy and vehemence. The challenge, in his time as in our own, is to allow ourselves to move past the comforting dominance of institutions and practices that can obscure that central message. Then as now our task is to step with trust and confidence into the unknown, ostensibly foolhardy territory of a life lived with the kind of love Jesus knew and embodied so extraordinarily.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Christianity and History
For my next few posts I'll be sharing some insights from an excellent (albeit very long!) new history of Christianity (A History of Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years. New York: Penguin, 2010) by the British historian Diarmaid MacCulloch. Continuing with the theme of the last post (on Matthew Fox's book), MacCulloch too has some important insights to share about the dynamic nature of religion. Here's a good example:
"All the world faiths which have known long-term success have shown a remarkable capacity to mutate, and Christianity is no exception, which is why one underlying message of this history is its sheer variety. Many Christians do not like being reminded of Christianity's capacity to develop, particularly those who are in charge of the various religious institutions which call themselves Churches, but that is the reality and has been from the beginning" (9).
Here again we have a valuable reminder not to treat any one church or other religious tradition so seriously that we lose sight of what we all share in common. There's a value to tradition and structure but only insofar as it fosters a vibrant and liberating faith, not solely as an end in itself. When traditions and institutions grow so rigid that they start to value their own survival more than the message they exist to serve, then we know it's time for that tradition to change and/or for us to discover authentic spirituality in different, perhaps new places.
Among others, a contemporary example that comes to mind in this regard are some recent comments made by Archbishop Timothy Dolan, the Roman Catholic archbishop of New York and head of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. Rather than considering the possibility that the Spirit may be calling the church to broaden its understanding of marriage, Dolan and other prelates appear set on precipitating what the archbishop calls a "national conflict between church and state of enormous proportions." Dolan and his fellow bishops can seek out their conflict but the real work of God remains to be done among those with eyes to see and ears to hear, beyond the limits of institutional barriers and blinders, the unfolding of the kingdom in our midst.
"All the world faiths which have known long-term success have shown a remarkable capacity to mutate, and Christianity is no exception, which is why one underlying message of this history is its sheer variety. Many Christians do not like being reminded of Christianity's capacity to develop, particularly those who are in charge of the various religious institutions which call themselves Churches, but that is the reality and has been from the beginning" (9).
Here again we have a valuable reminder not to treat any one church or other religious tradition so seriously that we lose sight of what we all share in common. There's a value to tradition and structure but only insofar as it fosters a vibrant and liberating faith, not solely as an end in itself. When traditions and institutions grow so rigid that they start to value their own survival more than the message they exist to serve, then we know it's time for that tradition to change and/or for us to discover authentic spirituality in different, perhaps new places.
Among others, a contemporary example that comes to mind in this regard are some recent comments made by Archbishop Timothy Dolan, the Roman Catholic archbishop of New York and head of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops. Rather than considering the possibility that the Spirit may be calling the church to broaden its understanding of marriage, Dolan and other prelates appear set on precipitating what the archbishop calls a "national conflict between church and state of enormous proportions." Dolan and his fellow bishops can seek out their conflict but the real work of God remains to be done among those with eyes to see and ears to hear, beyond the limits of institutional barriers and blinders, the unfolding of the kingdom in our midst.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Beyond the Museum Church
One more brief comment on Matthew Fox's book... I found that I resonated most strongly with Fox's call for a kind of Christianity that transcends the fixed boundaries which hierarchical officials tend to construct and enforce. While some degree of structure is necessary and it's up to all of us to discern where and how the Spirit is leading us to worship, I do think prophetic calls like those Fox and others articulate are compelling. For example, here's what Fox has to say relative to the Roman hierarchy:
"Pope Benedict and his 112 cardinals, whom he helped to appoint and who elected him pope, and all the bishops of the Roman Catholic Church, whom he also appointed (contrary to centuries of tradition dictating that bishops are chosen more or less locally) should be left to deal with their crisis of priestly pedophilia and the financial demands ensuing from their mismanagement of the Church...Let the museum church be unto itself and let spirituality replace religion. Let Catholics no longer hide in the pews, hoping not to be seen. Let them find a conscience and stand up and act" (21).
These are not easy words to hear but I do believe they are prophetic ones. Again, this kind of challenging call may inspire some ultimately to find their spiritual home outside the bounds of the Roman church, even while others may feel called to "stand up and act" in their own ways from within. Whatever our responses look like, though, to me the most essential point to realize is that the kind of mentality that would have us believe (whether explicitly or implicitly) that "outside the church there is no salvation" is, quite simply, false. Salvation or ultimate, authentic, integral happiness and fulfillment come not from "towing the line" and courting the approval of external authority, however apparently benevolent. Rather, true peace comes from uncovering the kind of spirituality within us that inspires what we all know to be the most noble, meaningful sentiments and inspirations in life - love, altruism, courage, kindness, forgiveness, compassion, fortitude, mercy, and others like them. All of these qualities can be encountered and cultivated in any number of religious and spiritual traditions, but the key is not to confuse the vehicle for the message. Instead, spiritual freedom and growth come as we discover that we're in fact not bound to any one tradition - in other words, when we awaken to the fundamental freedom, openness and compassion at the deepest part of our being, where our hearts touch God.
"Pope Benedict and his 112 cardinals, whom he helped to appoint and who elected him pope, and all the bishops of the Roman Catholic Church, whom he also appointed (contrary to centuries of tradition dictating that bishops are chosen more or less locally) should be left to deal with their crisis of priestly pedophilia and the financial demands ensuing from their mismanagement of the Church...Let the museum church be unto itself and let spirituality replace religion. Let Catholics no longer hide in the pews, hoping not to be seen. Let them find a conscience and stand up and act" (21).
These are not easy words to hear but I do believe they are prophetic ones. Again, this kind of challenging call may inspire some ultimately to find their spiritual home outside the bounds of the Roman church, even while others may feel called to "stand up and act" in their own ways from within. Whatever our responses look like, though, to me the most essential point to realize is that the kind of mentality that would have us believe (whether explicitly or implicitly) that "outside the church there is no salvation" is, quite simply, false. Salvation or ultimate, authentic, integral happiness and fulfillment come not from "towing the line" and courting the approval of external authority, however apparently benevolent. Rather, true peace comes from uncovering the kind of spirituality within us that inspires what we all know to be the most noble, meaningful sentiments and inspirations in life - love, altruism, courage, kindness, forgiveness, compassion, fortitude, mercy, and others like them. All of these qualities can be encountered and cultivated in any number of religious and spiritual traditions, but the key is not to confuse the vehicle for the message. Instead, spiritual freedom and growth come as we discover that we're in fact not bound to any one tradition - in other words, when we awaken to the fundamental freedom, openness and compassion at the deepest part of our being, where our hearts touch God.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
A New Reformation
I've been busy working and teaching but wanted to share a few thoughts about some more books that I've read recently. The first is by the former Dominican priest and current Episcopalian theologian Matthew Fox (A New Reformation: Creation Spirituality and the Transformation of Christianity. Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions, 2006).
Fox has a number of interesting insights, including his central idea that the church (in the broad sense of Christianity as a whole) is in need of a new reformation akin to the spiritual movements for renewal in 16th-century Europe. In contrast to some elements of traditional Christianity, including emphasis on punishment, patriarchal control, and the marginalization of women, the earth, other species, science, and LGBT folk, Fox suggests a new model which "recognizes the Original Blessing from which all being derives" (19). This model "recognizes awe, rather than sin and guilt, as the starting point of true religion...It prefers trust over fear and an understanding of a divinity who is [the] source of all things, as much mother as father, as much female as male...and tries to consider the whole earth as a holy temple..." (19-20).
Perhaps there are elements of Fox's ideas that we might agree or disagree with, or perhaps we might each place our own emphases slightly differently. In any case, however, I do think that Fox is onto something in the sense that it is long past due for Christianity to move beyond the elements of its tradition that are hindering it from effectively witnessing to and genuinely fostering care for the integral well being of humanity and of all creation.
Fox has a number of interesting insights, including his central idea that the church (in the broad sense of Christianity as a whole) is in need of a new reformation akin to the spiritual movements for renewal in 16th-century Europe. In contrast to some elements of traditional Christianity, including emphasis on punishment, patriarchal control, and the marginalization of women, the earth, other species, science, and LGBT folk, Fox suggests a new model which "recognizes the Original Blessing from which all being derives" (19). This model "recognizes awe, rather than sin and guilt, as the starting point of true religion...It prefers trust over fear and an understanding of a divinity who is [the] source of all things, as much mother as father, as much female as male...and tries to consider the whole earth as a holy temple..." (19-20).
Perhaps there are elements of Fox's ideas that we might agree or disagree with, or perhaps we might each place our own emphases slightly differently. In any case, however, I do think that Fox is onto something in the sense that it is long past due for Christianity to move beyond the elements of its tradition that are hindering it from effectively witnessing to and genuinely fostering care for the integral well being of humanity and of all creation.
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