Christianity (from the inside) 2.0
What the Gospel is Not (chapter one)
I hope all these chapers and parts aren't confusing. I'm trying to figure out how to organize myself, with marginal success. The following is part (chapter) one of what I intend to be a two part post on What the Gospel is Not. I will learn to link back to my earlier posts but if you haven't read them, you might want to do so first.
How could I possible have gone to church all those years and not really been a Christian? I ask myself this, of course. Think about it: I was President of Campus Crusade (briefly) and emceed their weekly leadership meetings for several semesters; I was a member of a Christian fraternity; I was discipled, officially and by good men, more than once; I was baptized in a church that won't baptize you until someone finds out if you are actually a Christian (and I snowed that speech, sadly, to a good friend); I taught in high school class and college group from time to time. I ran more than one bible study group over the years. How did I miss it?
That really is an intriguing question, I admit. The fact is I thought I was a Christian, most of the time. Or at least until my weak faith began to unravel. What did I believe the gospel was during those years?
To answer that, let me start with a few things the gospel is not (half in this blog; half next time):
Looking back, first of all, I really needed a lover. Odd place to start, I admit. But I had all the sexual impulses of any 19 year old male, yet I had been raised in a family where my parents did not have a sexually functional relationship, and where I was taught one of the worst things I could do in life was 'get a girl pregnant.' Oh, I was very afraid of sex and my own sexuality. Even when I had a beautiful girlfriend in high school, someone I dated for more than three years, we never went 'all the way' because I was afraid, simply. I wasn't attending church at that time; I don't think I had any religious reasons. I was smart enough to figure out birth control and we were both 18 by the time we broke up. But I was just too scared, of the sex, of the closeness probably most of all.
So I met a girl who was just as scared as me. Well, there was one before her that got me to go to her church, but that was only for a few months when I thought the gospel was preppy clothing. My ex-wife (and what do I call her here...Ophelia, too terrible an end but tragically close in other ways...I had not foreseen this problem when I started...Isabella (from Heights)...closer...Catherine (also from Heights)...maybe closer still...ah, I have it, she made the association herself in college: I'll call her Estella (from Great Expectations). Stella for short.
Oh, the old wound still moves in me. It's been a decade. Still, I don't know really if I should do this, go to this place, especially in a public blog, but let's see how it goes.
I met Stella at 19; she was 18. And in retrospect I think two things about her struck me: one, her physical beauty, and two, her rigidity, her moral superiority even. (She was also dangerously intelligent, but that has no bearing here). She had very strict standards about 'physical affection' and my own fear and guilt about such things meshed quite well. Tragedy. Our story is more tragic than I can tell now, as complex and unbelievable as any novel, but back to my main thread.
Stella was desirable, but distant. She was also active in Christian circles. We became best friends, really, which for us at the time probably wasn't saying much, though I was very dependent on her emotionally. And I don't know if, looking back honestly, I can't say some of my Christianity wasn't to please her, more correctly, to make her want me, to finally garner myself the golden girl lover. Her aloof quality drove me on more than anything else about her I imagine.
Whatever else I know, the gospel is not sex.
Nor is it abstinence. I think I really believed if I didn't have intercourse or whack off God would love me (like most Christian guys, I was a guilt-ridden expert at the latter; to this day, I can do more barbell curls with my right arm than my left). I equated our sexual coldness and even strangeness (make out with me in my bed until four in the morning Troy, I'll berate you tomorrow for your lack of spiritual strength) with purity, piety, even holiness I guess. There has been a streak of what one author calls 'sexual pessimism' in Christianity since ancient times (there is evidence of celibacy among Christian leaders, often married ones, in the third century, long before it became the policy of Rome; and of course there are St. Paul's comments). But again I digress.
Sex is a very complex thing and there's no doubt, mix it with shame and isolation and it can become compulsive; throw in the porn so readily available today and you have a very toxic mix. And we all feel urges to have sex with someone when to do so would be suicide to our most important relationships. But I wish I'd taken an actual lover as a young man, used birth control, and read the gospels to figure out who Jesus really was/is. The gospels are not ascetic documents; Christ's message really is about love, not establishing a new law (where's that verse that tells me what I can and can't do: I know tongue kissing after drinking a wine cooler while saying the word shit is probhibited somewhere). Love as final law, too, is in St. Paul, lest you think I don't like the guy. But how quickly we Christians like to feel morally superior just because we feel guilty about our sexual urges, or dress or speak a certain way--the white glove Sunday lie. The gospel is not control of bodily urges for the sake of control. This is a dangerous illusion and one which permeates many world religions.
Which segues, sort of, to my next point: neither is the gospel exact intellectual knowledge. I don't know what the minimum intellectual content required is to be saved, but at the outside it's John 1, or 11, or Romans 8, or even John 3:16. Any one of the four gospels is enough to tell who Jesus is. There's nothing wrong with studying the bible, or with reading Christian authors, nothing at all. But I am amazed at the ludicrous doctrinal positions which divide the Christian denominations even now, let alone cause haughty conflict in the individual church.
There are problems in every denomination (sometimes I think each, including my own, could be best described in terms of the neurosis it attracts). But I know I could rip out intricate theological terms like farts in my early twenties (sorry); I could have described the gospel message very well (I had led people to Christ in Crusade) and yet I didn't get it. Knowing god is not a systematic theology chart with the right terms in the right places. Ninety percent of the theological positions we take, I think, are guesses. We don't really know because Jesus didn't tell us and we probably couldn't understand; the little he did give us is challenging enough beyond his basic message.
Have you heard of the filioque controversy? It involves one word, a preposition in one of the creeds, and is still an issue of contention. Episcopals are a mixed bunch; most hold that the bible is the Word of God, inspired, even if not perfect; many read the Bible the same way Evangelicals do; my own view is in minority as far as I can tell. But I know the priest at our first church up here told me he had trouble doing community work in collaboration with other churches because, in his words, 'the first thing they say is "you don't believe the Bible is God's word do you" and I say, well, yes, and no; and when they ask the question their tone is as if they're asking me "are you still beating your wife?"'
Doctrine has its place, but so does healthy inquiry, tolerance for independent thought, and 'we don't know's.' Too often the evangelical churches and seminaries are really about doctrinal conformity on issues which matter very little or about which we cannot have certainty. And while I've had less experience here, the Episcopal church tends to be more open minded, but it relies on tradition for tradition's sake. Please. Feed the poor. I'm not kidding. Reach out to those in prison and the sick. (Not incidentally, my experience so far with my little Episcopal church is that it does those things more than any size fundamental church I ever attended; we all have a lot to learn). Hardest of all, let's love our children and spouses the way Jesus wants us to. Show servanthood and humility in the home (oh, do I need to hear this, especially today). What about pre-trib/post-trib/amillenial/pre-millenial/dunk or sprinkle and all that? What about more serious questions, like does baptism alone put one in the kingdom of God? Is the Bible inerrant in every word? Is the trinity the final word on the Godhead?
You know what, maybe I'm not completely sure. Stress agreement where agreement exists. The fact is ninety-nine percent of Christians I've met, even pastoral staff, can't defend many of the doctrinal positions they hold, and almost never with original thought: I get parrot-talk. Sure Roman Catholics do things different. (Do many Evangelicals even know the pater noster on the rosary is the Lord's prayer?) But my gosh, they believe Jesus was raised from the dead by God and is the Saviour of the world. Hey, that's a start. Yes many venerate Mary, but there are isses for greater concern, in light of Jesus values on earth, in the 'Christian Right' in my opinion.
Jesus gave us the new law explicitly, and it has two parts. Love God and love your neighbor. Jesus showed us who God is. And who our neighbor is.
That is certainly essential gospel, 'mere Christianity.' Asceticism, celibacy, intellectual precision, the belief that my particular denomination or church is, as a friend of mine said years ago, 'in the center of all grids.' Those are distractions, even delusions.
The first shall be last, and the last shall be first.
I hope all these chapers and parts aren't confusing. I'm trying to figure out how to organize myself, with marginal success. The following is part (chapter) one of what I intend to be a two part post on What the Gospel is Not. I will learn to link back to my earlier posts but if you haven't read them, you might want to do so first.
How could I possible have gone to church all those years and not really been a Christian? I ask myself this, of course. Think about it: I was President of Campus Crusade (briefly) and emceed their weekly leadership meetings for several semesters; I was a member of a Christian fraternity; I was discipled, officially and by good men, more than once; I was baptized in a church that won't baptize you until someone finds out if you are actually a Christian (and I snowed that speech, sadly, to a good friend); I taught in high school class and college group from time to time. I ran more than one bible study group over the years. How did I miss it?
That really is an intriguing question, I admit. The fact is I thought I was a Christian, most of the time. Or at least until my weak faith began to unravel. What did I believe the gospel was during those years?
To answer that, let me start with a few things the gospel is not (half in this blog; half next time):
Looking back, first of all, I really needed a lover. Odd place to start, I admit. But I had all the sexual impulses of any 19 year old male, yet I had been raised in a family where my parents did not have a sexually functional relationship, and where I was taught one of the worst things I could do in life was 'get a girl pregnant.' Oh, I was very afraid of sex and my own sexuality. Even when I had a beautiful girlfriend in high school, someone I dated for more than three years, we never went 'all the way' because I was afraid, simply. I wasn't attending church at that time; I don't think I had any religious reasons. I was smart enough to figure out birth control and we were both 18 by the time we broke up. But I was just too scared, of the sex, of the closeness probably most of all.
So I met a girl who was just as scared as me. Well, there was one before her that got me to go to her church, but that was only for a few months when I thought the gospel was preppy clothing. My ex-wife (and what do I call her here...Ophelia, too terrible an end but tragically close in other ways...I had not foreseen this problem when I started...Isabella (from Heights)...closer...Catherine (also from Heights)...maybe closer still...ah, I have it, she made the association herself in college: I'll call her Estella (from Great Expectations). Stella for short.
Oh, the old wound still moves in me. It's been a decade. Still, I don't know really if I should do this, go to this place, especially in a public blog, but let's see how it goes.
I met Stella at 19; she was 18. And in retrospect I think two things about her struck me: one, her physical beauty, and two, her rigidity, her moral superiority even. (She was also dangerously intelligent, but that has no bearing here). She had very strict standards about 'physical affection' and my own fear and guilt about such things meshed quite well. Tragedy. Our story is more tragic than I can tell now, as complex and unbelievable as any novel, but back to my main thread.
Stella was desirable, but distant. She was also active in Christian circles. We became best friends, really, which for us at the time probably wasn't saying much, though I was very dependent on her emotionally. And I don't know if, looking back honestly, I can't say some of my Christianity wasn't to please her, more correctly, to make her want me, to finally garner myself the golden girl lover. Her aloof quality drove me on more than anything else about her I imagine.
Whatever else I know, the gospel is not sex.
Nor is it abstinence. I think I really believed if I didn't have intercourse or whack off God would love me (like most Christian guys, I was a guilt-ridden expert at the latter; to this day, I can do more barbell curls with my right arm than my left). I equated our sexual coldness and even strangeness (make out with me in my bed until four in the morning Troy, I'll berate you tomorrow for your lack of spiritual strength) with purity, piety, even holiness I guess. There has been a streak of what one author calls 'sexual pessimism' in Christianity since ancient times (there is evidence of celibacy among Christian leaders, often married ones, in the third century, long before it became the policy of Rome; and of course there are St. Paul's comments). But again I digress.
Sex is a very complex thing and there's no doubt, mix it with shame and isolation and it can become compulsive; throw in the porn so readily available today and you have a very toxic mix. And we all feel urges to have sex with someone when to do so would be suicide to our most important relationships. But I wish I'd taken an actual lover as a young man, used birth control, and read the gospels to figure out who Jesus really was/is. The gospels are not ascetic documents; Christ's message really is about love, not establishing a new law (where's that verse that tells me what I can and can't do: I know tongue kissing after drinking a wine cooler while saying the word shit is probhibited somewhere). Love as final law, too, is in St. Paul, lest you think I don't like the guy. But how quickly we Christians like to feel morally superior just because we feel guilty about our sexual urges, or dress or speak a certain way--the white glove Sunday lie. The gospel is not control of bodily urges for the sake of control. This is a dangerous illusion and one which permeates many world religions.
Which segues, sort of, to my next point: neither is the gospel exact intellectual knowledge. I don't know what the minimum intellectual content required is to be saved, but at the outside it's John 1, or 11, or Romans 8, or even John 3:16. Any one of the four gospels is enough to tell who Jesus is. There's nothing wrong with studying the bible, or with reading Christian authors, nothing at all. But I am amazed at the ludicrous doctrinal positions which divide the Christian denominations even now, let alone cause haughty conflict in the individual church.
There are problems in every denomination (sometimes I think each, including my own, could be best described in terms of the neurosis it attracts). But I know I could rip out intricate theological terms like farts in my early twenties (sorry); I could have described the gospel message very well (I had led people to Christ in Crusade) and yet I didn't get it. Knowing god is not a systematic theology chart with the right terms in the right places. Ninety percent of the theological positions we take, I think, are guesses. We don't really know because Jesus didn't tell us and we probably couldn't understand; the little he did give us is challenging enough beyond his basic message.
Have you heard of the filioque controversy? It involves one word, a preposition in one of the creeds, and is still an issue of contention. Episcopals are a mixed bunch; most hold that the bible is the Word of God, inspired, even if not perfect; many read the Bible the same way Evangelicals do; my own view is in minority as far as I can tell. But I know the priest at our first church up here told me he had trouble doing community work in collaboration with other churches because, in his words, 'the first thing they say is "you don't believe the Bible is God's word do you" and I say, well, yes, and no; and when they ask the question their tone is as if they're asking me "are you still beating your wife?"'
Doctrine has its place, but so does healthy inquiry, tolerance for independent thought, and 'we don't know's.' Too often the evangelical churches and seminaries are really about doctrinal conformity on issues which matter very little or about which we cannot have certainty. And while I've had less experience here, the Episcopal church tends to be more open minded, but it relies on tradition for tradition's sake. Please. Feed the poor. I'm not kidding. Reach out to those in prison and the sick. (Not incidentally, my experience so far with my little Episcopal church is that it does those things more than any size fundamental church I ever attended; we all have a lot to learn). Hardest of all, let's love our children and spouses the way Jesus wants us to. Show servanthood and humility in the home (oh, do I need to hear this, especially today). What about pre-trib/post-trib/amillenial/pre-millenial/dunk or sprinkle and all that? What about more serious questions, like does baptism alone put one in the kingdom of God? Is the Bible inerrant in every word? Is the trinity the final word on the Godhead?
You know what, maybe I'm not completely sure. Stress agreement where agreement exists. The fact is ninety-nine percent of Christians I've met, even pastoral staff, can't defend many of the doctrinal positions they hold, and almost never with original thought: I get parrot-talk. Sure Roman Catholics do things different. (Do many Evangelicals even know the pater noster on the rosary is the Lord's prayer?) But my gosh, they believe Jesus was raised from the dead by God and is the Saviour of the world. Hey, that's a start. Yes many venerate Mary, but there are isses for greater concern, in light of Jesus values on earth, in the 'Christian Right' in my opinion.
Jesus gave us the new law explicitly, and it has two parts. Love God and love your neighbor. Jesus showed us who God is. And who our neighbor is.
That is certainly essential gospel, 'mere Christianity.' Asceticism, celibacy, intellectual precision, the belief that my particular denomination or church is, as a friend of mine said years ago, 'in the center of all grids.' Those are distractions, even delusions.
The first shall be last, and the last shall be first.
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