I am a Christian Too

A few weeks back, I posted about McLaren’s latest book on Emergent Christianity, A Generous Orthodoxy. I received a thoughtful comment to the post questioning whether the Emergent movement has anything to offer mainline denominations. Not knowing much about things Emergent, I emailed Eric over at xphiles and asked him if he had any insights regarding Emergent and how it compares to Lutheranism.

I was very pleased today to see Eric’s first post on this topic. He obviously has given this some thought, and has insights for those coming from both points of view.

I’m turning off comments to this post — if you have thoughts on Eric’s post, please leave them on his blog, and I will be doing the same.

Update: Post number 2 in Eric’s series.

Update: Post number 3.

Anne Lamott, author of Plan B, Further Thoughts on Faith (here is a review from Salon) was interviewed on NPR’s Day-to-Day. Some excerpts (transcription, and errors therein, are mine.)

First, on her conversion to Christianity years ago:

I was so sick and so struggling, I was kind of at the end of my rope and there wasn’t even enough rope left to tie a knot, and so I went and I sat down and these people did not hassle me, I mean I think that’s the most important thing in a church, they didn’t try to get me to do bible study or to stay after and have rice krispy treats, or to try to learn about Jesus and who shot the holy ghost, they just welcomed me.

All I can say is I felt like I was home. I can’t imagine there’s a white church in America that would have been interested in this drunk, stoned bulimic on a bicycle, you know, who couldn’t stand up for the hymns and the joy was palpable and I thought ‘I want what they have’.

On the Christian right’s misrepresentation of her faith:

And so now when you say oh, they’re a Christian, you think right wing Christian, you think Tom Delay and Hammer of God. You think faith-based initiative where if your family needs help, or if you’re a drunk or an addict, which I am in recovery, or if you can’t pay for your kids to eat decently, that they’re willing to give you help, but you have to do the bible study too, right?

I think it would have just made [Jesus'] blood run backwards to hear what we’re threatened with in his name, how we’re shamed in his name, how its pointed out nicely in his name that a lot of us, people like me, are going to go to hell and rot for all eternity, which is a very loving sweet thing to share with someone.

On how we should welcome those that need what we have:

And when you begin to find a tribe of people who accept you as you are, whoever you love, whatever you look or smell like, or whatever you believe, who just say, oh my God, of course you’re welcome here, whoever you are. My experience is that there’s a warm chair with people who aren’t going to hassle you to death, who may have some really nice food if you’re hungry, and who may have some secret kinds of food to offer too.

Bill Moyers is not only an outstanding journalist, but a long-time Christian voice in an industry not particularly known for its grasp of religious issues. Now via Beth Quick via Deep Calls to Deep, Bill Moyers adds his voice to what is becoming a chorus decrying the take-over of the Christian faith by the right. Excerpts from his recent essay, Let’s Get Jesus Back:

And they hijacked Jesus. The very Jesus who stood in Nazareth and proclaimed, “The Lord has anointed me to preach the good news to the poor.” The very Jesus who told 5000 hungry people that all of you will be fed, not just some of you. The very Jesus who challenged the religious orthodoxy of the day by feeding the hungry on the Sabbath, who offered kindness to the prostitute and hospitality to the outcast, who said the kingdom of heaven belongs to little children, raised the status of women, and treated even the tax collector like a child of God. The very Jesus who drove the money changers from the temple. This Jesus has been hijacked and turned from a champion of the disposed into a guardian of the privileged. Hijacked, he was made over into a militarist, hedonist, and lobbyist…sent prowling the halls of Congress in Guccis, seeking tax breaks and loopholes for the powerful, costly new weapon systems that don’t work, and punitive public policies.

Let’s get Jesus back.

The Jesus who inspired a Methodist ship-caulker named Edward Rogers to crusade across New England for an eight-hour workday. Let’s get back the Jesus who caused Frances William to rise up against the sweatshop. The Jesus who called a young priest named John Ryan to champion child labor laws, unemployment insurance, a minimum wage, and decent housing for the poor—ten years before the New Deal. The Jesus in whose name Dorothy Day challenged the Church to march alongside auto workers in Michigan, fishermen and textile workers in Massachusetts, brewery workers in New York, and marble cutters in Vermont. The Jesus in whose name E.B. McKinney and Owen Whitfield challenged a Mississippi system that kept sharecroppers in servitude and debt. The Jesus in whose name a Presbyterian minister named Eugene Carson Blake was arrested for protesting racial injustice in Baltimore. The Jesus who led Martin Luther King to Memphis to join sanitation workers in their struggle for a decent wage.

And for those of you keeping count, yes, this one also gets added to the “I am a Christian Too” meme collection.

As anyone that has read this blog for any period of time can attest, I am an avid NPR listener. I pledge and everything. So this item in The Revealer, written by Linda Anderson who works for the International Bible Society and volunteers for her local NPR station, caught my eye.

The phone interview for volunteering at KRCC was going really well, when the station manager, Mario, asked: “And where am I calling you?”

“IBS,” I answered, giving him the acronymic (and therefore less-obvious) name of my nonprofit Christian employer.

“Huh,” he mused aloud, “the only IBS I know is the International Bible Society.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s where I work.”

“Do you know why I don’t believe in God?” he asked, hardly pausing.

His story about why he didn’t believe in God was pretty familiar: bad church, bad churchgoers, bad church history.

I confessed that I, too, had a hard time with Christian hypocrisy (who doesn’t?) and the church’s tendency to ignore social justice issues. I submitted that following Christ unfortunately comes at the expense of associating myself with two thousand years of human failures in his name.

Mario was curious to see if his community could sustain a strange element like me. “We’re an inclusive environment, a diverse community.” If I was interested in being part of that community, I was welcome. “But you know who won’t like this?” he asked rhetorically, “The cool people. I can’t wait.” Click.

…

I haven’t introduced myself to the KRCC staff as Lisa the Christian. And I thought that was okay until my second outing. Adam, another DJ, and I were standing in the street, leaning against my car after his shift. It was dark and I watched his confusion evolve in the strobe light of the passing cars.

A: So, where do you work?

L: A Christian non-profit.

A: —- (shocked)

L: Uh, I am a Christian.

A: (in a slightly too loud, relieved tone) Oh, you’re shitting me.

L: No, really. I’m a Christian.

(awkward pause)

A: Are you very Christian?

L: What do you mean?

A: Are you a FUNDAMENTALIST?

L: What do you mean by “fundamentalist?”

A: Do you hate homosexuals?

L: Adam, you know I don’t hate homosexuals. Half of the people we work with are homosexual.

…

Adam mumbled something about his grandmother and dinner and excused himself. So we didn’t have a chance to discuss the why or how of my belief or the way words failed us when their sub-culturally charged definitions broke down.

…I was left wondering which Christian prototype — the televangelist, the culturally insensitive spinster missionary — Adam had ascribed to me. He did have our previous relationship to look back to, but judging by his reaction to my coming out, he thought that his earlier impressions (ostensibly of my being interesting or thoughtful) and my profession of faith to be incompatible.

Adam could have dismissed me immediately if I had been Christian in a way that he recognized. He might not have wasted his time befriending me. He already knew that he didn’t like those people. But when the label came too late in our friendship, Adam felt deceived by me in some way.

This is the cost we pay for allowing Christianity to be defined by the Christian right. How many thousands, millions even, of unchurched in the US are repulsed by the image of the Christian right, and are therefore beyond the reach of the Gospel? How many ex-Christians have fled the church because of the Christian right, not knowing that there is another Christianity governed by grace instead of law?

The meme of this blog from the beginning has been that the Christian right, inspite of the presumption by the secular world to the contrary, does not speak for the moral values of most Christians. So, I suppose it’s no surprise that I seem to be collecting accounts of Christians articulating this meme. First, there is my original post regarding my raison d’blog. Then, I’ve posted links to similar accounts from John Sugg, Dr. Robin Meyers, and Jennifer Barnett Reed. (My posts are here and here.)

Now comes a great addition to the “I am a Christian too” meme collection. From Yale student Beth Hinson (hat tip to Jesus Politics).

On the train ride back to Yale from Boston in the morning hours of Nov. 3, 2004, my best friend looked at me through eyes tearing with frustration and said, “Your people did this.” She turned her head to the aisle and spent our trip upset and without words.

I am a Christian. I also grew up in the American South. “My people”–both Christians and Southerners, according to my friend and many Yale students–are changing our nation with a conservative agenda.

That agenda is not mine. Many Christians, like myself, strongly believe in separation of church and state; are Democrats and pro-choice; support women in ministry as preachers and teachers; and believe that God loves all people, regardless of race, creed, color or sexual orientation.

It is possible for Christians to represent such God-like views and not be radical judgmentalists. It is possible for Christians to be loving, kind, conversational and respectful of persons of different faiths.

Despite my vote in the presidential election, my identity as a Christian became associated with Christian conservatism more than ever after Nov. 2. “My people” appear to be part of the Christian right because voices from the Christian left are often stifled or silenced.

…

The presence of the Christian right in the national debate has had the effect of lumping all Christians into an unequal affiliation, and thus a public misrepresentation, of Christianity.

Critics rarely acknowledge the many Christians who fight private battles against the upsurge of Christian conservatism and frequently find their integrity challenged. These tests have occurred at a frightening pace over the past two decades.

…

In my view, this new political Christian right is seriously wrong, because its view of God is so narrow that few are included except its own.

We must better articulate the more moderate side of Christianity as it exists today in the South and Middle America in order to counteract the popular assumption that the entire region is sold on the radical Rightist principles.

The Christian Conservative movement has duped more mainstream and liberal Christians into silence, because we have been fearful about questions we cannot answer concerning the radicals who tout our faith but do not share our ideals.

However, we must now stand firm and be unafraid to say, “I profess a different Christianity from the Christianity professed by the Christian Right.” Otherwise, individuals our age who find it difficult to sometimes hold onto any faith will begin to lose faith in Faith itself, and our generation’s predicament will be what was my own: not knowing whose side the church is really on. Our faith must be converted to God and not conquered by man.

Due to a busy schedule lately, I haven’t made much progress reading A Generous Orthodoxy by Brian McLaren, but that’s no reflection on the book — I’m finding it very thought-provoking. Here’s my second post with reactions to the book (here is my first) .

At one point in the book, McLaren starts describing everything as post-something: post-modern, post-protestant, post-liberal, post-conservative, post-evangelical. I’m not very familiar with post-modernism, but I always thought the label was a bit of a dodge. Post-modern doesn’t tell us what it is, only what it follows, what it isn’t. If we can’t describe what it is except to say that its after modern, then it must not be anything very meaningful.
(more…)