Posts tagged “Christianity

Christian Nationalism: A Cautionary Tale

Recent Supreme Court decisions have set a spark to simmering dry tinder surrounding the issue of separation of church and state. As for one of the Court’s most controversial decisions, some go as far as to suggest that the Court was guided more by religious doctrine than by the U.S. Constitution. But at a broader level, the conservative Court and its decisions have emboldened the evangelical right.

Commonly described as “Christian nationalists,” they suggest that the line between church as state – at least when it involves the Christian church and the state of the United States – should not be that clearly separated.

To those, a lesson from history. When the Roman state and Christian church first merged, it was government that gained and the nascent but growing Jesus movement that was the big loser.

In 313, Emperor Constantine formally enacted the Edict of Milan legalizing Christianity. Later that century, on February 27, 380, Emperor Theodosius made Christianity the imperial religion. Some Christian historians believe that these two acts were the worst thing to befall Christianity in its early history.

During its first two hundred or so years, the “Jesus movement” spread rapidly throughout the Roman empire. Operating outside the machinations of government even to the point of persecution, Christianity was a religion of choice, a religion of charity with a particular focus on caring for the poor, orphaned, widowed and otherwise vulnerable. Its attraction was not only in its unusual teachings – that the first will be last, that the poor are blessed and woe to the wealthy, a call for humility, to serve rather than be served, that God is love and that in Him we find forgiveness. Its attraction was also in its familial and communal network of care, kindness, and support.

Rome’s adoption of Christianity changed a lot of that and in many cases not for the better. Here are five to consider:

From familial to institutional and bureaucratic – Early Christians didn’t meet in churches; they met in each others’ homes. To be sure, much of that was because of persecution by various Roman emperors – from Nero to Trajan to Marcus Aurelius and finally Diocletian. But the move to legalize and later adopt Christianity as the imperial religion led to not just the allowance of public worship. It also led to created structures – both physical and social – that quickly eroded the original communal nature of Jesus followers. In many instances, Emperors seized infrastructure from other pagan faiths and “donated” them to the Christian church leaders. “Church” became a building, not a people. Church became a “dome” not a “home”.

From bottom up to top-down conversion – The establishment of Christianity as the official religion of the empire reversed the method of traditional Christian evangelism. In the early days, Christianity was a religion of choice, spread primarily among families and communities via personal appeals. As an imperial religion, that changed. Instead of being spread “bottom-up”, Christianity was spread from the top down. That is, newly conquered rulers were “convinced” by their new emperor to accept Christianity and those rulers, in turn, “convinced” their countrymen and women to do the same. Adoption of Christianity became more often a choice of politics and material gain rather than that of faith.

From diversity to rigid patriarchy – As suggested above, the early church was a loose affiliation of familial converts with widespread diversity and autonomy in the practice of their faith. To be sure, if these assemblies got out of line, they’d likely get a letter or two from Paul or other apostles and disciples. But even in their chiding, the apostles called for unity, not division. Again, association with the Roman government changed that. Over a short period of time during the 4th and 5th Centuries, four major patriarchies were established in Rome, Antioch, Alexandria, and Constantinople. Each developed their own doctrinal theory. Each competed for influence and dominance and worked to impose their doctrine on others. Bitter, vitriolic doctrinal schisms emerged over what some might consider arcane doctrinal issues including the Trinity and Christology. Bishops were ex-communicating each other right and left, East and West, North and South. Amidst all this, Roman emperors jockeyed amongst the various patriarchs not out of any attraction or personal belief but rather as a power grab, throwing their lot with whoever they thought would end up on top so they could preserve unity within the empire.

From apolitical to totally political – When responding to a question about taxes Jesus famously made the distinction between church and state. Jesus said “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and render unto God what is God’s”. His meaning was clear – the two were very different. But with the Roman adoption of Christianity as the “preferred” and later the state religion, imperial and religious power became one and the same. During the late 4th and throughout the 5th and 6th centuries, rendering unto Caesar and rendering unto God became one in the same.

From Godly to worldly – From its origins, Christianity was “otherworldly.” In John’s account, Jesus tells his followers that the reason people are upset with them is because they are “not of the world.” Later, Paul admonishes Christians to not be “conformed to this world” but to be “transformed” in mind and body. As an imperial religion, Christianity went from Godly and spiritual to worldly and carnal. Christianity went from being “not ‘of’ this world” to being a servant or slave to the world – specifically, the world of the Roman empire. Christianity became less about serving the poor, widowed, and orphaned and more about serving the Roman empire and its search for political predictability and stability.

All this should be a cautionary tale – both for Christians and others. As Father Mickiewicz, pastor of St. Mary’s parish in Oneonta, New York wrote:

“Emperors Constantine and Theodosius did Christianity no favors. They were the catalyst that caused the edgy Gospel message to be diluted — and, we have to ask, at what price? The price of the soul of Christianity?”

So be careful. History has a way of repeating itself.

 

 

Photo credit: Alastair Rae Creative Commons 2.o

Jesus, Critical Race Theory, and American Exceptionalism

American Flag

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

I ran through several titles for this post. This is what I ended up with. 

It is not quite as provocative as a bunch of others I thought about.  Like “Jesus would support critical race theory. Or “American exceptionalism is unchristian.” But I figured titles along those lines would unnecessarily antagonize. Lord knows we have enough of all of that.

But here’s the nub of the issue. Critical race theory (CRT), which has been around for decades and never raised much of a fuss, has all of a sudden set conservatives in an uproar. The Heritage Institute claims that “when followed to its logical conclusion, CRT is destructive and rejects the fundamental ideas on which our constitutional republic is based.” Evangelical pastors and their churches have also been set ablaze. In pulpits and bylines across America, they are supporting states’ efforts to ban mention of CRT in public education.  Scholars and theologians from the Southern Baptist Convention claim that CRT is “unbiblical” and inconsistent with Christianity. Others have called it “something of a Christian heresy.”

So what exactly is CRT? If you listen to a lot of conservatives or evangelicals you’d think it is the coming of the anti-Christ – a humanist theology seeking to replace Judeo-Christian values. But that’s simply not true. In one of the most informed and balanced pieces I’ve read on CRT,  Education Week’s associate editor, Steve Sawchuck, describes CRT this way:

Critical race theory is an academic concept that is more than 40 years old. The core idea is that racism is a social construct, and that it is not merely the product of individual bias or prejudice, but also something embedded in legal systems and policies.

That’s it. Racism creeps into legal systems and policies. This is a surprise?

No, CRT is not some Marxist or Satanic plot. CRT is a description, of what is and less of a prescription of what to do about it. CRT merely says that racism goes beyond individuals and eventually becomes systemic. That is because people construct societies, and in the process of constructing those societies people bring with them their individual biases and prejudices. These biases and prejudices infect and shape the institutions and societies people create.

Makes perfect sense to me.

It also strikes me as consistent with what I know of Jesus’ teachings. Let’s start with the concept of sin and racism. 

Man’s sinful nature isn’t a new concept. It has been a central theme of Christian theology since – well – since the beginning. St. Paul. Augustine. Martin Luther. Calvin. All saw Jesus as the means to escape an inherently grim human condition. By the time this got to Calvin, he went so far as to describe our condition – that is, the condition of all human beings – as that of “total depravity.” 

My interpretation of scripture doesn’t go that far. The total depravity part, that is. But I find the concept of “sin” and “sinner” experientially relevant. That is, I see it (sin) in myself and others. And our recognition and repentance of what constitutes these bad thoughts and behaviors – are central to Jesus’ teaching.  When I was growing up in church, I was encouraged to publicly confess not only that I am a sinner but that my “sin” thing was largely an incurable condition. That while I should seek God’s help and guidance to overcome it, I’m sorta stuck with it. Sin, that is. And I did so because deep inside me I know that was a pretty good description of me and folks around me – even those that I admired. But Jesus provides hope because as Paul wrote, “while we were yet sinners” he sacrificed his life for ours.

So here’s the question: If Christians are ok with standing up and saying “I’m a sinner” why do they freak out when someone asks them to confess “I’m a racist”? Surely racism falls into the “sin” bucket. What makes it so hard for Christians to accept the reality of our own prejudice?

I think beneath the religious panic is political mythology.

Could it be that the real reason for the freak out of CRT is that it punctures the balloon of American exceptionalism? That CRT somehow makes Americans and American history look less like a Marvel Superhero and – well – more “human.” That somehow makes CRT unpatriotic. It doesn’t quite fit into Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA” Bible!

Any (good) student of U.S. history knows that Americans’ self-perceived “exceptionalism” has been part of our story since the colonies. It has been linked to our Puritan or Christian “specialness.” Winthrop had his “City on a Hill.” Jacksonian Democrats and Teddy Roosevelt had John O’Sullivan’s Christian-based Manifest Destiny. Ronald Reagan claimed America as “set aside as a promised land.” America is exceptional. Perhaps by extension, God has a special thing for the U.S.A.

Here’s the problem. I’m not sure Jesus would agree with this either. 

Whatever happened to “red, and yellow, black, and white … they are precious in his sight”? It wasn’t just the American children that Jesus loved. As I remember it, it was the “children of the world.” And it’s a big world out there.

Sadly, throughout American history, legitimate pride and patriotism have often fallen prey to nativism, imperialism and … you got it! … a sense of (white) American superiority. Sometimes it was even Christian superiority. Sometimes it was even the superiority of some types of Christianity (Protestantism) over other types of Christianity (Catholics). Go back to your U.S. history books and read about the “No Nothing Party.” Not sure how that aligns with Jesus’ views on the beauty of humility and the ugliness of pride. Humility was high on the “blessed” list in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Last I read in the books of Matthew and Luke, exceptionalism didn’t make the cut.

It reminds me of Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector.  It was the story of two people praying. The Pharisee was in the front of the church and thought pretty highly of himself. His prayer was – literally –  God, I thank you that I am not like other people.” He went on to say that he was especially thankful that God made him better than the scum tax collector in the back of the room. Sorta sounds a lot like exceptionalism to me. A bit like “I’m thankful God, you made me an American and not one of those awful socialist wussy Dutch, Danish or Swedish types. Jesus wasn’t too happy with the Pharisee. Rather, Jesus sided with the tax collector – the guy in the back of the room who didn’t claim to be better than anyone. He simply asked God “to have mercy upon me, a sinner.”

[Sidenote: I also think that Jesus would likely challenge anyone who makes the claim that “I don’t have a racist bone in my body” or “they don’t have a racist bone in their body.” I do. You do. They do. We just need to deal with it.]

Finally, let’s put Jesus and Christian theology to the side for a moment, and just talk about American history. Facts. Truth. Stuff that actually happened.

I don’t want to pick on any one state but I find it ironic (that’s the nicest word I can come up with) that one of the biggest opponents of CRT is Senator Cotton from Arkansas. Arkansas is the state where, in 1957, following the landmark ruling of Brown v. Board of Education, the Governor infamously called out the National Guard to maintain segregation of white students from black students in public schools. That policy – the segregation of white and black communities – had been in place in the state of Arkansas and much of the nation for over 60 years or since Reconstruction. It was state law. It was institutionalized racism. Systemic racism. Whatever the label, racism was the rule of law. Add to that the fact that the state of Arkansas was admitted to the Union in 1836 precisely because it was a “slave” state. Its admission as the 25th state was meant to preserve the balance of slave vs. free states in the Union. Look at it this way. Arkansas has been a state for approximately 185 years, and for approximately two-thirds of its history it was either a slave state or a segregationist state.

Are we to simply ignore the two-thirds of Arkansas’ history? Pretend that race wasn’t an issue? Pretend that race still isn’t an issue? In Arkansas and every other state in the Union?

CRT is a theory. It is not a religion, it is not a government, it is not a way of life. It is just a theory “which dates back to the 1970s, [and] holds that racism is systemic and embedded in policies rather than just perpetuated by bigoted people, creating barriers for people of color in myriad spheres of life.”

Makes sense to me. Critical race theory is not a radical concept. It is historically accurate. And based on my read of the Bible, it is quite in keeping with what Jesus and his disciples taught.

Church

Place of Worship

Church.

I go to one.

Church, that is.

I hear that going to church is becoming increasingly rare.  That’s according to the latest survey by Pew Research. They say the number of people going to church is dwindling.  Ok, they say it is dropping like a stone, actually.  The biggest drop off appears to be millennials, including millennials with young children.

I think that’s too bad.  I feel it is too bad mostly for reasons of faith and belief.  But there are practical reasons as well.

So for all the “nones” out there, even if you feel that church isn’t for you, I’d ask you to reconsider.

Let me give you three practical things you (and your children) can learn from going to church.  Or, for that matter, the mosque or synagogue.

First, at church you learn how to sit still for an hour.  This is an extremely practical skill.  It gets you ready for all those dreadful meetings and conference calls you will have to endure at work.  And for your children it is an absolute God send (pun intended). I teach a lot of kids and let me tell you, we’re losing the art of “sitting still.”

Sure, your kids are going to tell you that they are bored.  Hey, depending on what church you go to you might even be bored.  But haven’t you heard?  Being bored is a good thing.  In fact, all the latest studies show  that people’s besting thinking and creativity comes through boredom.

Go to church. Sit still. And yes, get bored. You’re best thinking depends on it.

Second, at church you learn the concept of giving and philanthropy.

In my faith we practice tithing or giving ten percent of our income.  This always leads to the question, “Is it ten percent of “gross” or ten percent of “net”? I don’t know the answer to that.  I do know that many boomers like me who were brought up in church saw Mom and Dad drop their envelop in the plate and were instructed at a very early age to do the same.

The idea of generosity, particularly for the poor and disenfranchised, is common across many faiths.  But church teaches you how to make this a habit, how to weave it into your lifestyle at an early age.

One of the many challenges charitable organizations face today is the decline of the institutional donor. The new generation of donors are “situational” donors.  That’s ok, but not great.  It is hard to imagine great organizations like Red Cross or American Cancer Society being built by situational donors. Church teaches you that you should give back and support causes even when there’s no earthquake in Haiti or drought in the Sudan.  That you should give all the time.  Regularly.  Dependably.  So that organizations that are doing good work can actually do good work.

Finally, church makes you think about big things.  At least it should. Mine does.

When I say big things, I mean really big things. Understanding good.  And bad.  Purpose. Meaning.  Destiny.  Love.  Sacrifice. Truth. Mortality.

Heady stuff.  Big stuff.  The most important stuff in life, really.

But if we’re honest with ourselves, most of us would admit these aren’t the things we spend most of our time thinking about.  We spend most of our time thinking about whether we left the iron on.  Or something like that.  And we think about stuff a lot.  At work we recently did a national study on what people think about most.  At number one was “friends and family.” That’s encouraging.  But at number two – by a wide margin – was “money.”  People think twice as much about money and finances as they do about life’s meaning and purpose.

I think that is too bad. Understandable, but too bad.

Church helps correct that.  Every Sunday here come all those really big things again.  Origin. Purpose. Meaning. Morality. Destiny. Good and Evil. Truth. Mortality.

It isn’t that church is the only place where a person can learn how to sit still, practice philanthropy and search for meaning.  But its track record is pretty good on all three fronts.  And you might even stumble over some of that faith and belief stuff.

So think about it.

 

Place of Worship via flickr under creative commons 2.0

The Reverend Martin Luther King Jr.

This is a post about being a Christian.

Today there are a lot of people writing a lot of posts and articles about the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr.

And well they should.  He was a great man whose vision, oratory, writings and tireless work inspired a nation to turn away – albeit slightly – from bigotry, racism and hatred.

And it is his social and political accomplishments that you’ll likely read most about today and tomorrow.  His speeches.  His marches.  Lunch counters. Protests.  Non violence.

But I want to remind others – as I remind myself – that Dr. King was a Reverend.  A preacher.  A man of faith.  A Christian.

Funny how most of us gloss over that.

I bought my wife one of Dr. King’s books for Christmas.  It sits on the coffee table.  The title of the book is Strength to Love. According to Dr. King’s wife:

“If there is one book Martin Luther King, Jr. has written that people consistently tell me has changed their lives, it is Strength to Love.  I believe it is because this book best explains the central element of Martin Luther King, Jr.’ s philosophy of nonviolence: His belief in a divine, loving presence that binds all life. … By reaching into and beyond ourselves and tapping the transcendent moral ethic of love, we shall overcome these evils.”

Read the book.  If only a chapter or two.

And if you do I challenge you to try and divorce Dr. King’s vision of a world where ‘a man would be judged by the content of his character, not the color of his skin’ from his Christian faith.

His understanding of racism and bigotry was an understanding of how profoundly sinful we all are.  And his belief in non-violence and sacrifice was tightly linked to his meditations on Jesus and the cross

Read Dr. King.  And be reminded of the real meaning and spirit of the Christian faith.

You might find it very different from the Christian faith you see in popular culture or hear in political dialogue.

Jesus said that if we have the faith of a mustard seed we can move mountains.  Dr. King’s faith moved an entire generation.

Read Dr. King.   And pray that more will be inspired to, like Dr. King, recapture the revolutionary loving spirit of the Christian faith.