One of the main concepts that informs Christian faith from within the Bible is an outworking of promise. Three major religions in the world trace their lineage back to Abraham and Sarah. Most Christians interpret God’s promise to Abraham and Sarah as extending to them personally. Abraham and Sarah were old and childless and yet they had sensed from God a promise that they would have children. God, in the form of angels, of visiting strangers, tells them that not only will they be blessed through this promise (thus a family), but, in fact, there will be, from their line, a people (thus a nation). The promise is extended to include all of the people’s of the earth (thus the universe).
This promise demonstrates a faith that is about movement, always reaching out, always joining with others. News like this could indeed be called “good.”
Interestingly and somewhat distressingly, much of religious faith including that of my own evangelical background is less about movement than it is about rigidity, less about joining with others than it is about remaining pure from the ideas of others.
For a faith to move, for a promise to expand its reach, walls have to come down over and over and over again. So often, religious instruction and formation in evangelical communities has not been about tearing down walls, but rather about building them up and revering them as markers of sanctity and purity. Some words that are otherwise good can become distorted and tainted in this kind of approach. If you were raised in the evangelical church you have heard the term “discipleship.” It referred to a path or system or training in formation. It involved learning and devotion and a disciplined life. At its best, it referred to being a follower (a disciple) of Jesus. At its worst, it became the indoctrination arm of a faith that turned in on itself and against the world rather than a faith that realized the working out of a promise of blessing for all people. If your “discipleship” was marked by suspicion of the thoughts and beliefs of others rather than a hopeful faith that moved towards others, you may identify with this caution.
A friend of mine, one of the funniest people I have ever known, came to the hockey game of one of my sons when my son was maybe 6 years old. There is something about hockey that accentuates the seemingly-aimless, gathering-in-packs-and-wandering-off-on-their-own, feel of the sports of young kids. On the ice, the kids are suited up in hockey gear, that is often too big for them, and their grip on their hockey stick is usually not quite right. It’s less of a game of flow and motion than it is of doddling like penguins, moving around each other, and bumping into each other from all directions. And it’s slow.
My friend, who is willing to take a risk to bring humour to those around him, was seated among the parents and relatives who were in the arena seats. Some parents watched intently, most talked with other parents, while a few yelled out mostly encouraging things to their kids. My friend, catching some of the actual futility on the ice and the relative disinterest of the parents in the stands, hollered out (in a loud, but non-accusatory way) towards the ice as if he were a fan at an NHL game, “SOMEbody DO SOMEthing!”
He got huge laughs.
I often think of my friend’s humourously bellowed frustration in some contexts of church or religious gatherings. Many religious gatherings can be places where people go to hear just what they already believe. You can see this at some memorials and funeral services. Rarely is there a time in our culture in which people are before bigger questions and concepts of mortality and meaning. Yet, in this context, there might not seem to be a word for the people gathered. It can be, instead, saying all the things we already think, over and over again. I watched a funeral service by zoom a couple of weeks ago and was grateful to hear, in the words of a friend of mine who presented the homily, an actual word for this time, for our lives, a word that honoured the deceased, but a word that actually said something.
You may have experienced this in attending religious services. If you are not a regular part of a gathered religious community you may wonder, “Why are they just telling each other the things that they already think?” This same thing can happen in church services. Sermons and teaching can often be re-iteration after re-iteration and warning after warning. Religious gatherings do include worship and re-iteration and liturgy, but when repetition of the same ideas is all that there is, there is a problem.
There seems not to be motion towards expansion of the promise, but rather motion towards protecting the “true believers” and maybe convincing a few others to think like we do.
Annie Dillard, in her book “Teaching a Stone to Talk,” has a rather well known essay/chapter called Expedition to the Pole that repeatedly touches on the sometimes farcical nature of church services:
A high school stage play is more polished than this service we have been rehearsing since the year one. In two thousand years we have not worked out the kinks. We positively glorify them. Week after week we witness the same miracle; that God is so mighty that he can stifle his own laughter. Week after week we witness the same miracle: that God for reasons unfathomable, refrains from blowing our dancing bear act to smithereens. Week after week Christ washes the disciples’ dirty feet, handles their very toes, and repeats, ‘It is all right - believe it or not - to be people.’
Who can believe it?
Expedition to the Pole was first published in 1982. That’s a long time ago. It is possible to argue that what we have seen since then is an attempt on the part of some religious communities, perhaps particularly evangelical communities, to polish the dancing bear act; bigger screens, a better sound booth, now multiple cameras for live feed services and slick marketing. I have a hunch that Dillard would prefer the non-polished services.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, dissident theologian during the second world war, presents a helpful concept. He refers to “the word against the word.” The Bible itself should be read as speaking a word against the Bible itself. You can’t properly understand any part of the Bible that has to do with the expansion of the promise without seeing this concept at work. People who thought they had things just right, people who were in their own minds clearly following the word of God around purity and identity and salvation, were confronted with the implications of the expansion of the promise. If, for example, in the Book of Acts, they did not respond with openness there would be no Christian church as such.
During “in-between” times like the one we are currently living there is again that question, “is there a word?” Does anyone have anything to say or are we all just doddling from place to place hearing the same things we already think?
May you be blessed to know grace and truth from outside of your particular worldview, your particular political or social perspective. It is not a mark of strong faith to close yourself off to the ideas of other people. Hopeful Christian faith is demonstrated, not compromised, in truly listening and learning from other people.
Yes