I left Christianity begrudgingly. I fought for every remaining tenet of the faith, strove to keep some faint object of faith alive, and ultimately succumbed to the myriad questions that traditional theism couldn't answer without resorting to tautologies, circular reasoning, or incoherent wish fulfillment. It was a difficult period, made worse by the fact that I worked in professional ministry. Many times I replayed the hose and push-up scene from An Officer and a Gentelman, wherein Lou Gosset, Jr. (Foley), demands of Richard Gere that he (Mayo) quit. Mayo continues to do push-ups while Foley wonders aloud why he doesn't quit. "I got nowhere else to go!" Mayo sputters. It was a poignant moment in the film, and I felt Mayo's confusion and fear as I faced my exit from the faith. What the fuck would I do if I didn't do ministry?
One of the last things I read that actually made an impact on me as I lost my faith was Paul Holmer's The Grammar of Faith. Holmer was a professor of theology at Yale (of course he was) and an expert on Wittgenstein, my philosophical idol. Holmer's thesis in the book was very simple: theology, rather than making us smart, ought to make us holy. It was a revolutionary concept in a grad school full of people who were painfully smart, people who ended up bruised and broken by the Church because they asked difficult questions or didn't settle for the same banal answers that passed for apologetics in church circles. My mentor, Dr. Steve Green, offered us Holmer because, I think, he thought Holmer could help heal us, and for a time, he did. But Holmer's ideas were viral in the best and worst way; the more you thought about them, the more they infected your thinking, and the more they infected your thinking, the more you applied them to church-thought like a template. How does this particular instantiation of church-thought measure up to Holmer's thesis?
Here's a random truth about me: I hurt when I see suffering. Really hurt. In most of my classes we begin the period with story time. Students are required to tell stories, but they must be about sadness or tragedy or arrests or unplanned pregnancies. I want to hear their stories about suffering because the sharing of suffering brings a class together. I'm not sure they ever figure that out, by the way. They just love story time without knowing why. One rule is no stories of animal suffering. I can't abide stories about tragedies that befall animals. This seems strange to my students, but the explanation is simple. Humans are rational creatures, and so we attempt to make sense of our suffering. Animals don't share that quality, and so their suffering, at least by my reckoning, is a moment of unredeemed pain. It's just shitty, inexplicable pain foisted on a creature that deserves better. It's why I change the channel when Sarah McLaughlin and abused pets appear. I hurt for the animals that have been wounded by people who are too stupid and barbaric to have a basic level of empathy for non-rational creatures.
If theology should make us holy, it should absolutely make us empathetic. Alas, that seems not to be the case. As Holmer says in The Grammar of Faith, "Theology is, then, an interpretation" (9). This, I'm sure, is a Barthian assessment. God revealed in Jesus is primary revelation. The testimony of the disciples is secondary revelation, including the Bible. Theology is tertiary revelation, at best. If all theology is interpretation, and it is, then theology is not "Word of God." Yeah, Barth, again. However, secondary revelation is not "Word of God," either. This is the theological problem with the discussions about same-sex marriage. Too many Christians treat a handful of verses as the "Word of God," but they understand the phrase as a description of the text, not an event, ala Barth and Tillich.
I'm not even going to discuss the Constitutional issues around which this conversation should actually be formed, as I'm almost certain there is no credible response from a non-religious perspective that could militate against gay marriage in a republic or democracy. Equal protection seems to need very little parsing, as equal is a zero-tolerance designator when it comes to rights afforded to citizens who are both of age and have legal standing.
Christianity has failed to make Christians holy, and it has clearly failed to make them empathetic. This should be a catastrophic failure of what they believe, but they have insulated themselves against reality shattering their theologies by insisting that God makes them holy by virtue of killing Jesus. No work is necessary. No attempt to understand a suffering world. No reason to reach out to "the other" with compassion. No actual laboring for a genuinely holy life. No. Only a triumphalist assertion of holiness that the recipient of grace has done nothing to earn. Indeed, this dependence is seen as a virtue. This redefinition of holiness is disastrous for those who are viewed as enemies of the tribe.
For gays and lesbians, who according to a narrow theological reading of an ancient text are "others," the redefinition of holiness allows for a subset of Christians to view them as "abominations" even as that same subset views themselves as "saved by grace," even as they work to ensure the suffering and marginalizaton of their "brothers and sisters" who are also "created in the image of God." The law, which the Apostle Paul clearly says must be accepted in totality if one is to follow it, is directed against these "others," even as the legalists, by practice if not self-definition, excuse themselves from the penalty of the law by appeals to a slaughtered Savior's death. It's a theology that is self-justifying even as it condemns the marginalized to injustice, said injustice being excused by appeals to an ancient law. The whole thing is so painfully bizarre, self-refuting, and hypocritical, that I'm befuddled that Christians don't repent of their own hypocrisy and beg their gay and lesbian neighbors for forgiveness. Instead, though, they will justify their beliefs by appeals to a holy God while they excuse themselves from the hard work of holiness.
So here's a parallel that occurred to me after reading this post, and I'm not sure yet if it means something or if it's just the Skyy talking. You've written before (as have probably tens of thousands of other people) about how an institution destroys its reason for existing when its practices instantiate self-preservation and power-seeking rather than the principles that led to its founding. Is there a counterpart in individual approaches to life (including faith, but possibly including secular practices)? I.e., if Belief System X teaches that the single most important thing a person can do in life is be an adherent of Belief System X, is it even possible for there to be other core principles in that system?
People in that situation will often behave according to different (and better) principles, of course, because humans are mercifully inconsistent about such things. But it seems like this would explain why the most egregious empathy gaps seem to be located among the firmest believers (not just Christians).
Posted by: Leighton | March 27, 2013 at 11:42 PM
I was going to go on an extended tangent about the Great Awakenings as naked psychological power grabs, but my friend the vodka glass said nope.
Posted by: Leighton | March 27, 2013 at 11:44 PM
AS in the revolutionary who believes in building a better world for The People who turns a blind eye to the slaughter of the people (small case) to create that world? Reformers can be a bloodthirsty lot.
Posted by: Jackie | March 28, 2013 at 11:04 AM
I think you're on to something Leighton but that is probably a more general principle. It's not just belief systems that have this undermining effect but what I would call tribes, i.e. intentional groups of people who share an identity qua membership in the group. Not all belonging has this negative result, but like you say, when belonging is made explicitly or implicitly to be the highest good, then the implications of belonging become sacrosanct. I think that is precisely what goes on in the heads of otherwise decent (or at least average) people who worry about the consequences of an athlete's evil behavior for the team rather than for the victims of that behavior. I think that in calmer moments, almost all such people would claim that they value the safety of children in there community over than the success of that team, but their tribalism doesn't allow them to make good on that when the tribe is threatened.
Posted by: cheek | March 28, 2013 at 12:52 PM
this. <3
Posted by: Halie | March 28, 2013 at 11:51 PM
Greg, I agree with you that many Christians live their lives this way (i.e. "Jesus saved me and there's nothing more I need to do but believe"), but it's a gross misunderstanding of Jesus's teachings. He spoke rarely about right belief and often about right action. A lot of Western Christians prefer Paul, who largely does the opposite (though he makes the assumption of action it can be more easily ignored).
All that to say... I had a student come up to me in North Carolina a few weeks ago and ask me if he could follow Jesus. I told him yes. Then he showed me his rainbow wristband and asked if I still thought so and I told him yes again. He had never heard this before. I explained that even if you read the Bible to be saying that homosexual sex is a sin, that doesn't mean that active homosexuals can't come to Jesus. I pointed out that there are plenty of prideful, gluttonous pastors out there. He admitted he knew an obese pastor. So why can that guy be a "Christian" and even a "professional Christian" when he's clearly in the grips of habitual sin? And why would it be any different for someone who is gay (again, assuming you read the Bible to say it's a sin)? I don't see how it possibly could be.
Also... Greg, as always, your compassion for others is a reminder of what an excellent pastor you must have been and, now, as a secular pastor of sorts, continue to be. I'm glad there are college kids getting to interact with you regularly.
Posted by: Matt Mikalatos | March 31, 2013 at 12:40 PM
The best of "Jesus" speaking on a correct view of sin was Keller in this video.
I desire to emulate Jesus and no I don't do it well. My heart is still corrupt and in need of his grace. That's what I confess, sin and the need for release from it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=LTwugmG4hoA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=L9jHlrMRJAo
Posted by: JohnP | April 13, 2013 at 07:11 PM
Hi Greg,
I check in on your blog every now and then just to see what you are up to. I wanted to let you know that I appreciate the way you have articulated the tension of faith. I think many Christians share this tension and ask difficult questions because it is a struggle to understand a suffering world. This struggle is not exclusive to pastors, this is part of the everyday life of the believer... the lay believer.
Lay believers are not surrounded by believers all day, we are out and about trying to understand the Gospel among seriously hurting and broken lives... including the brokenness and complete imperfection of our own lives. It is tough, and doesn't always make sense, and it is really, really hard work most of the time. I agree with you that many of us do not do it excellently all the time, me included.
Also, I want to say that I am sorry the church hurt you. You know it is made up of lots of people... that are just people, mostly trying to figure all this out for themselves. I know that probably does not help at this late date, but it is true.
Do you know that you are welcome to sit in my pew if you ever what to visit a church for any reason?
Debbi
Posted by: Debbi McCullock | April 14, 2013 at 12:43 PM