Thursday, February 29, 2024

I Don't Want to Human: A Rant Against Human Violence

 

I Don’t Want to Human

A Rant Against Human Violence

 

Not long ago I saw a thing online of someone saying they don’t want to adult. They don’t even want to human, they said. They want to goat. Jump around. Eat whatever they want. Headbutt anyone they don’t like. I thought OK. Makes sense. Living like a goat must look pretty good to most humans. But this little piece didn’t have the person say why she didn’t want to human. All we can do to try to figure out why she didn’t is to look at the things in human life that are other than the way she described the life of a goat. Be where you’re supposed to be when you’re supposed to be there and behave with decorum. Eat only what’s good for you. Don’t be violent, don’t even be rude, but be nice even when you don’t feel at all nice. OK. Fair enough. I don’t like those things much of the time either.

I don’t want to human either, but I have a much more profound reason for not wanting to human. I don’t want to human because I’ve had it up to my back teeth with human violence. I’ve seen things online about the most dangerous wild animals in my country. Hell! There is no wild animal whatsoever that is nearly as deadly as human beings are. Maiming and killing people is what we do. Just turn on the TV news, local, national, or international, any time of day or night, and you’ll mainly if not exclusively see stories of violence. Part of that truth is the fault of the media. “If it bleeds, it leads” certainly seems to be true. But our news is filled day and night with stories of war. Of mass shootings. Of domestic violence. Of hate crimes against Jews, Muslims, Blacks, gays, transsexuals, and others. Of the state-ordered murder we call capital punishment. Israel kills over 30,000 Palestinians in Gaza, and my government sits on its ass doing nothing about it, probably because of the political power of American Jews in the Democrats’ coalition. Russia invades Ukraine, causes the deaths of tens of thousands of people on both sides of its illegal war of aggression, and there is no apparent way to stop the killing. My country spends obscene amounts of money on the killing machine we call the US military. The US Supreme Court says a constitutional amendment designed to protect the ownership of muzzle-loading muskets protects the ownership of semi-automatic weapons that can kill hundreds in the time it took an eighteenth-century musket to kill one.

I have, so far, never been a victim of violent crime nor have I had to go to war, if only because of a medical condition that kept me out of the army during the Vietnam War. But I live in a culture awash in violence. I live in a world awash in violence. I am a Christian. I try to follow a savior who proclaimed and lived nonviolence though it got him crucified. But countless millions of others who say they follow the same savior support American militarism and claim that owning guns of a type the only purpose of which is to kill other human beings is a perfectly Christian thing to do. I am surrounded day in and day out by news of human violence against other humans, and I’ve had it. I’m sick of it. I’ve had it with being a member of a species of animal so inherently and apparently incurably violent as we human are.

And there’s not a damned thing I can do about that either other than kill myself. But that would just be another act of violence, the kind of violence I’m so sick of being associated with because I am a member of the species homo sapiens. What the hell is wrong with us? I wish I knew. I don’t, but I know there is something diabolically wrong with us. Perhaps at some level we know collectively that there’s something wrong with all of our violence. We go to elaborate lengths to make service in the military killing machine honorable. We salute the military at football games and have airborne killing machines fly overhead. We drape the coffins of dead soldiers in American flags and trot out military honor guards for them. We call them “fallen” not “killed,” which is what they really are. We convince young people that joining the military killing machine is their duty and that it is a good career move. Hone your tech skills we say, usually failing to say hone your tech skills in support of killing people, which is the only thing the military exists to do. We spend immense amounts of money and immense amounts of human skills for the production of ever more effective and efficient ways to kill people. Our culture says sure, go ahead and spend your life producing weapons of mass destruction. After all, we’re Americans. We’re the good guys, we claim; so there’s no moral question there. Like hell there isn’t! Or maybe there isn’t; but if there isn’t, it’s because doing so is obviously and undeniably immoral not moral.

And all I can do is rage against the killing machine. Rage against my country’s militarism. Rage against my country’s madness over guns. Rage against human violence across the globe. Get mad as hell at the Russians, whose history I have studied to the PhD level. Get mad as hell at the Israelis, though of course I know and am appalled by what other humans did to the Jewish people in the Holocaust. And all it does is keep me upset and not wanting to human. So I rant. I rage, and it accomplishes nothing. Oh well. I’m stuck being mad as hell. I’m stuck being depressed as hell. I don’t much want to be, but I’m stuck being human. So be it, but: Damn!

Sunday, February 18, 2024

What Is the Good News Anyway?

 This is the text of a sermon I gave on February 18, 2024, at Prospect United Church of Christ in Seattle, Washington, USA.

Just What Is the Good News Anway?

for

Prospect United Church of Christ, Seattle, Washington

February 18, 2024

 

Scripture: Mark 1:9-15

 

Let us pray: May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

 

Today is the first Sunday of Lent, and Lent is a time of preparation. OK, but preparation for what? For Holy Week and Easter, but what are they all about? They are all about the coming of the good news. The good news that Jesus brings. The good news that Jesus is. You know, I’ve been ordained to the gospel, the good news, of Jesus Christ for more than twenty years. I’ve served a couple of different Christian churches as pastor. I’ve written a fair amount of theology. I’ve even preach here a few times. And I have to tell you. Passages like the one we just heard still bug me. In that passage, Jesus says, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” It appears that there is something called “the good news” that we’re supposed to believe in. Which is nice I suppose, but it unavoidably raises the question of just what this “good news” is. You’d expect this text to tell us what it is. You’d expect Jesus to explain what it is. But in this text, and time and again in the gospels, Jesus mentions the “good news,” then says nothing about what that good news is. Our passage this morning suggests that it has something to do with something called the kingdom of God coming near, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Apparently it has something to do with us repenting, whatever that’s supposed to mean. This past week I figured that if I was going to talk with you this morning on this good news, I’d better get a better idea of what it is than I often have.

So I did a bit of research. What I found in my sources is that the good news is that, with the coming of Jesus, salvation is at hand. The kingdom of God is, supposedly, the age of salvation. Well, isn’t that nice! Salvation! Surely a good thing. But one of the maddening, and wonderful, things about theology, and we’re talking theology here, is that every answer you find just raises more questions. So the age of salvation has come near. But what in heaven’s name is salvation? I figure we know what our Christian tradition has mostly said salvation is. It’s rescue from the supposed consequences of our sin. It’s having our sin forgiven so our souls go to heaven rather than hell after we die.

Now, I don’t doubt that, assuming that heaven and hell exist and that some part of us that is recognizably us lives on after death, that we go to heaven not hell. In fact, I don’t believe that hell exists. God, after all, is love; and what sort of love is it to send someone to an eternity of fiery torment because of something they did or didn’t do during their life on earth? Doesn’t make a lick of sense to me. God is love. Jesus came to demonstrate God’s love to us. God’s love is universal. It applies to everyone. God loves, God doesn’t damn. So yes, I believe in salvation in that sense.

But here’s the thing. Most people today don’t worry that much about sin and its supposed consequences for our souls. We may think about it. We try to be good people, but sin just isn’t the major existential concern of most people today. When I was a seminary intern here twenty-five years ago, your pastor Trish told me that this congregation would not let her put a prayer of confession in the worship service because the people didn’t think they had anything to confess. I’ve gotten some laughs when I’ve told that story to other congregations by the way. In any event, could the good news of Jesus Christ, that is, could salvation, mean something other than, or in addition to, forgiveness of sin and escape from damnation?

Well, I don’t think I’d be here this morning talking with you about it like this if I didn’t think that it could. So to get at what I think it means that can be more significant for us today than talk about sin and forgiveness, I’ll start with this assertion. Whenever anyone says that something or someone needs to be saved, they have to say what it is that that thing or person needs to be saved from. Some of our best theologians say that what people need to be saved from today is a sense of meaninglessness, the belief that their life doesn’t mean anything at all. I think that’s true for an awful lot of people today. That sense leads to despair, and what but despair could account for our high rates of alcoholism, drug addiction, and suicide? Certainly faith in Jesus Christ can give life meaning. I found that meaning for my life as a seminary intern here at Prospect twenty-five years ago when the Holy Spirit finally got it through my thick skull that pastoral ministry was what I was supposed to be doing with my life.

But our better theologians also talk about something else that people need to be saved from today. That something is alienation, that is, separation from something or someone from which or whom one should not be separated. It is to live apart from that which one should be close to, should even be united with. Theologians talk of three different kinds of alienation, and they are all prevalent among us. They are alienation from God, from others, and from the true self. Each of these kinds of alienation impairs wellbeing. Each of them taints life. Each of them is something from which nearly all of us need to be saved.

The good news of Jesus Christ is that we can be saved from each of these kinds of alienation. In Jesus Christ, we know that God offers us salvation from each of them. And here’s what I think is an important truth. Our salvation from each of them starts with overcoming our alienation from God. Our Christian tradition knows well that that’s where salvation starts. We see that that’s where we must begin living into our salvation from alienation in the Great Commandment, that most basic of all Christian admonitions. It appears in three of the four gospels. The oldest of them is the version in Mark. It reads: “ You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength,” and “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Mark 12: 30-31. Living into our salvation in Jesus begins with our loving God.

OK, but wouldn’t it be nice if that were easier to do than most of us often find it to be much of the time? I mean, it’s God’s world, and God’s world is an awfully messed up place. There’s war, other kinds of violence, oppression, exploitation, discrimination, poverty, and any number of other ills everywhere. It sure is easy to ask God how we can possibly love God given all the evil in God’s world. Here’s the only answer I can give to how we can possibly love God. It is to come truly to know in the depth of our being that God loved us first. That really is the good news. God loves us. God loves each and every one of you. God loves every single person who lives, who ever lived, and who ever will live. God even somehow manages to love me.

That really is salvation isn’t it? I mean, even the old Christian understanding of salvation as salvation from sin and its supposed consequences has and has had powerful meaning for countless generations of Christians. But even that kind of salvation is grounded in God’s love for people. I mean, why would God bother to save us from sin if God didn’t love us? So please. Understand. Really get it. God loves you. Though the world may hate you, God loves you. Though you may sometimes doubt or even hate yourself, God loves you. Period. No matter what. Thanks be to God!

And that’s how we can love God. After all, how can we not love a power behind everything that exists in the entire universe that nonetheless deigns to love even tiny little us? And love so amazing, so divine, demands and calls forth our love of God in return. We’ll never love God as unconditionally as God loves us. We are, indeed, mere fallible humans not the infallible Creator of all that is. But I know that I can love God more than most of the time I do. Perhaps you can too. If you take anything from this sermon, please take this. You can love God because God loved you first. God still does. Realize that no matter how much you feel you are separate from God, alienated from God, as far as God is concerned you aren’t. Never have been. Never will be.

OK, so that’s how we overcome our sense that we’re alienated from God. But what about those other two types of alienation, alienation from others and even from ourselves? Well, when we know that God loves us conditionally—and God does—then we must also know that God loves everyone unconditionally. There are no “ifs” about God’s love for anyone. We humans may put conditions on love. We can fall out of love as easily as we can fall in love. But that’s precisely how we know that God’s love is not conditional the way ours is. God is so much greater than we are. God’s ways are so much greater than our ways. God transcends our pitiful human ways absolutely. Our love is almost always conditional. God’s love therefore is and must be unconditional—for everyone.

And how can we not love what God loves? No, it’s not easy to love everyone else. I sure know I can’t do it all the time, or even very much of the time. I sure do feel an alienation from an awful lot of people an awful lot of the time. Perhaps you do too. Just look at our politics today, and you’ll see what I mean. But when I really stop to remember that no matter how angry I may get with a person, God still loves that person as unconditionally as God loves me, I remember that God calls me to overcome my sense of alienation from that person. To overcome my alienation from every person. Why? Because God is not alienated. Not from me. Not from you. Not from anyone.

Now, that third kind of alienation, alienation from our true selves, may be the hardest of all to overcome. I sure know that I am the person I find the hardest to forgive, and perhaps you feel that way about yourself too. I also know that most of my life I lived alienated from who God made me to be. Maybe you have that sense about yourself too. In the culture in which most of us Americans live, far too few people ever discover who God really created them to be. Far too few people ever manage to live into being that person even a little bit. It took me decades to do it, and it was actually here at Prospect so many years ago that I did finally began to do it for the first time.

Our culture forces most of us to deny who we really are, forces us to try to become who our culture wants us to be not who God created us to be. There’s a hymn that’s not in the New Century Hymnal but that I sure wish was. It’s called “The Summons.” One of its verses begins, “Will you love the you you hide if I but call your name? Will you quell the fear inside and never be the same?” Love the you you hide. Become who you really are. That’s overcoming that third kind of alienation, overcoming perhaps the hardest alienation of all to overcome.

So, what is the good news anyway? It is that in Jesus Christ we know that God is love. It is that God loves you more deeply, more powerfully, more unconditionally than you can ever imagine. It is that because God loves you so much, you can love others the way the Great Commandment calls you to do. It is that because God loves you so much, you can even love yourself the way the Great Commandment calls you to do. Jesus began his public ministry by calling us to believe in the good news. Do we? Can we? No, it’s not always easy. But if we will open our hearts, minds, and spirits to God’s unconditional love for us, perhaps we can begin to do it. Trust me, it’s worth the effort. More importantly, trust God. Trust God’s unconditional, unfathomable love for you and for everyone. Then, perhaps we can actually believe in the good news that Jesus taught and Jesus is. May it be so. Amen.


Saturday, February 17, 2024

On Christianity and State Power: The Example of the Russian Orthodox Church Today

 

On Christianity and State Power: The Example of the Russian Orthodox Church Today

Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin has been, in effect if not always in title, the ruler of Russia since the beginning of the year 2000, when former Russian president Boris Yel’tsin resigned and Prime Minister Putin became President Putin. Since then he has been elected president several times and has served as Prime Minister when the Russian constitution did not permit him to run for another consecutive term as president. When he first became president, Russia was a more or less democratic country. At least, it was more democratic than it had ever been before and than it has ever been since.

Back in the late 1990s, when Yel’tsin first made Putin prime minister, Putin was quite unknown to the Russian people or to the world. He was born in what was then Leningrad in 1952. He became a KGB agent. He served as a minor agent in East Germany at the time when the Berlin wall came down. Thereafter he served as an assistant to Leningrad mayor Sobchak, who had a reputation as a liberal at the time. From there he went to Moscow where, for reasons that are far from clear, Yel’tsin made him head of the FSB, the successor to the Soviet KGB in which Putin had served in a minor capacity. In 1999, Yel’tsin made him prime minister of the Russian Federation. To nearly everyone’s surprise, in December, 1999, Yel’tsin announced that he would resign as Russian president at the end of that year. When he did resign, Putin succeeded him as president as the Russian constitution provided. Putin then won his first election as president later that year. It is generally believed, though it hasn’t really been proven, that Yel’tsin chose Putin as his successor precisely because Putin was relatively unknown and because Putin promised to give Yel’tsin and his family immunity from prosecution for corruption, which Putin did shortly after becoming president.

Putin has turned what had been a relatively democratic and free Russia into a fascist authoritarian or even totalitarian state. He gets himself reelected through rigged elections. He imprisons or kills anyone who dares to run against him in his staged elections. He has even murdered opponents outside Russia. He has made opposition to him or his policies illegal, and he has had thousands of people arrested and imprisoned for voicing opposition to him. Until February 16, 2024, he had a prominent opponent named Alexei Navalnyi.[1] Putin once tried to kill him by having him poisoned, but Navalnyi survived when he got to Germany for medical treatment. Navalnyi returned to Russia, where Putin had him arrested and convicted on trumped up charges. On February 16, 2024, we learned that Navalnyi  had died in prison. Putin has managed to silence his most prominent opponent.

In 2022, Putin ordered the Russian military to invade Ukraine. In doing so, Putin has adopted a centuries-old Russian position regarding Ukraine. The Russian Empire occupied most of today’s Ukraine in the late 18th century under Empress Catherine the Great. Imperial Russia always maintained that Ukrainians were really just Russians. Imperial policy was that Ukrainian is not a language separate from Russian but is only a dialect of Russian. In the nineteenth century, the imperial government prohibited the publication of books in Ukrainian and the use of Ukrainian in public administration and education. Imperial Russia considered Ukraine to be only a part of Russia that the Russian government had every right to rule as it saw fit.

The history of what today is the nation of Ukraine is complex, particularly, perhaps, as it relates to Russia. It is, however, undeniable that Ukraine has had stronger connections with western Europe than Russia has had. For a very long time, most of what today is Ukraine was part of the Lithuanian-Polish Commonwealth, a mostly Roman-Catholic European nation. There was no independent Ukrainian nation until a short-lived Ukrainian republic after the Russian Revolution of 1917. Ukraine became one of the original Soviet Socialist Republics in 1922. There was no lasting, meaningful Ukrainian independent nation until 1991, when the Soviet Union ceased to exist. In 1991 Ukraine became an internationally recognized sovereign state that covered the same territory as the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic. That Soviet entity had not originally included the Crimean Peninsula, but in 1954 Nikita Khrushchev, then head of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, transferred that peninsula from the Russian to the Ukrainian Soviet republic.

In 2014, Putin’s Russia occupied  Crimea militarily and claimed to transfer it into the Russian Federated Republic, the current form of the Russian government. The international community of nations has refused to recognize that theft of part of the sovereign Ukrainian nation, but it was just the beginning of Putin’s aggression against Ukraine. In early 2022, Putin sent most of the Russian military into Ukraine in an attempt to destroy Ukrainian sovereignty and reincorporate Ukraine into Russia. In the nearly two years since that illegal, immoral invasion began, the Ukrainians have put up a much better fight against the Russians than most observers, the author of this piece included, thought they would be able to do. The NATO nations, including the US, have given Ukraine massive amounts of military aid, which has been crucial in making Ukraine’s resistance to Putin’s Russia possible, though the bravery of the Ukrainian people has played the major role in the surprising success they have had against their fascist invaders.

The religious, cultural, and political history of Ukraine and Russia is fraught. The religious, cultural, and political history of Russia begins in what today is Ukraine. The eastern Slavic people, who today include both Russians and Ukrainians (and Belorussians) became Orthodox Christians after the year 988 CE, when Grand Prince Volodymyr I of Kyiv, Vladimir I of Kiev in Russian and English, converted to Greek Orthodox Christianity. That’s when and where the study of Russian history usually begins. Moscow didn’t become the center of Russian cultural and political power for centuries thereafter. Moscow eventually became the capital city and center of power of an immense empire that, after the late eighteenth century, included all of today’s Ukraine and some Ukrainian territory that today lies outside the state of Ukraine.

It is hard to underestimate the significance of the fact that the Christianity the eastern Slavs, including the Russians and the Ukrainians, adopted was Orthodox not Roman Catholic. In western Europe, the church and the area’s political entities, including both nascent nation states and the Holy Roman Empire, were often at odds over who held the ultimate political authority. The pope in Rome always contended that ultimate power belonged to him as Christ’s vicar on earth. The various kings and emperors of western Europe often contested that claim. The pope may have crowned Charlemagne as Holy Roman Emperor in 800 CE, but neither Charlemagne nor most any other western European ruler ever recognized the pope’s ultimate authority over them.

It was not so in eastern Europe. Eastern, or Greek, Orthodox Christianity arose as the state religion of the Roman Empire. Roman Emperors, beginning with Constantine in the early fourth century CE, raised it to that level of recognition and power. The Christian leaders of the time were overwhelmed by the splendor and power of empire, of which they  were now a part. Their intoxication with power overcame their commitment to Jesus’ values of justice and nonviolence. The Christian church became the handmaiden of imperial might. It became a principal ally and support of imperial power not an opponent of it. The emperor, not a pope, was the head of the church. The imperial church never became more than an agency of state power. The fact that the Roman Empire ended in the west in the sixth century CE but continued on in the east until 1453 CE is part of the explanation of why western and eastern Christianity came so to differ with regard to their relationship to secular power.

That’s how it was, first in what became Ukraine, then in what became Russia, after the conversion of the eastern Slavs to Orthodox Christianity in 988 CE. The Russian Orthodox Church was never a center of power apart from the Russian autocracy the way the pope was a power apart from the secular states of western Europe. Henry VIII of England could, and did, take England out of the Roman Catholic Church. Peter I of Russia, aka Peter the Great, could, and did, abolish the Moscow Patriarchate and, in effect, reduce the Russian Orthodox Church to a ministry of the imperial government.

Western Europe and Russia give us two radically different examples of how Christianity relates to secular power. Christianity can stand against it as a counterbalance to secular power, or it can capitulate to it and function as one of its principal supports. It has functioned in both ways throughout its history. Today, in the United States, there are elements of Christianity that work to have it function in both ways among us. A great many American evangelical Christians advocate Christian nationalism. They say, wrongly, that the United States was founded as a Christian nation. They want to turn their country into the Christian nation they think it originally was. They want, in effect, to turn this country into a Christian theocracy. They want to merge Christianity with American secular power.

Other American Christians, your humble author included, consider Christian nationalism to be radically un-Christian. We seek to follow Jesus, and we see Jesus as profoundly anti-imperial. He lived under Roman occupation and oppression. The Romans saw him as such a threat to their power that they crucified him as a political criminal. He proclaimed what he called the kingdom of God. He called us to the creation not of powerful, secular, worldly states but to a transformed world the values of which would be essentially the values of the world turned upside down. The kingdom of God is the world governed by God’s values of nonviolence, peace, and distributive justice for all people. Jesus called us all to follow the ways of God that we see in him not the corrupt, violent, exploitative ways of both his world and ours. Christians who truly seek to follow Jesus understand that our faith’s proper relationship to state power is one of opposition at least to the extent that any state power in question engages in policies that are neither peaceful nor just, which nearly every secular power does at least much of the time.

Those of us who believe that our Christian duty is to work for the kingdom of God not for any worldly secular power always run into at least one problem from the Bible. That problem is Romans 13:1-7. Those verses read in relevant part:

Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Do you wish to have no fear of the authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive approval; for it is God’s servant for your good. But if you do what is wrong, you should be afraid, for the authority does not bear the sword in vain! It is the servant of God to execute wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore one must be subject, not only because of wrath but also because of conscience.

Christians who see no distinction between the ways of the world and the ways of God often cite these verses as a reason for supporting, indeed for being subservient to, whatever secular power they live under.

But we have to ask: Was Jesus then a wrongdoer? For the Roman Empire certainly executed wrath upon him. It put him to a horrifically painful death on a cross. In the Gospel of Mark we see that, before his arrest, Jesus was afraid of the Romans. Does that mean he did what was wrong? These pseudo-Pauline verses certainly say that he did. He didn’t resist Roma with violence, but he certainly taught values that directly contradicted most of the values under which the Roman Empire operated. No true Christian can believe that what Jesus did was in any way wrong from God’s point of view. He was, after all, God Incarnate. He wasn’t crucified because he did what was wrong. He was crucified because the Roman authorities did what was wrong. Romans 13:1-7 are in the Bible, but that doesn’t make them right. They are just flat wrong, and no true Christian can take them as a legitimate statement of divine truth.

Today, the Russian Orthodox Church continues the ancient Orthodox tradition of subservience to the state with which it is associated. It supports Vladimir Putin’s illegal and immoral military invasion of Ukraine. How it can do so is essentially beyond the comprehension of any western Christian. Yet the Russian church today stands in complete conformity with its Orthodox tradition. There is much to admire about Orthodox Christianity. Its liturgy is spiritually powerful even for those of us who do not understand the language in which it is being celebrated. I have experienced that power myself. In 1976, I experienced the Orthodox Easter service at the monastery at Sergeev Posad, then called Zagorsk, the seat of the Patriarch of Moscow.[2] That service was conducted in Old Church Slavonic, the traditional language of the Russian Orthodox Church. I know a fair amount of Russian. I don’t know Old Church Slavonic. It didn’t matter. I found the ritual of the Orthodox Easter service, set in a space filled with sacred icons, to be immensely powerful even though I didn’t understand the words being said.

Orthodox Christianity’s subservience to the secular authorities is not one of its admirable characteristics. It is one of the ways in which that ancient variety of Christianity fails to meet Christ’s call to all Christians to represent the kingdom of God not the kingdoms of the world. The current Patriarch of Moscow kowtows to Vladimir Putin at every turn. He supports Putin’s destruction of Russian democracy. He supports Putin’s invasion of Ukraine. He fails to condemn the myriad war crimes Russian soldiers commit there. He opposes the heroic struggle of the Ukrainian people for independence and freedom. In all of these ways he may be truly Orthodox. He is not truly Christian.

So what is the proper relationship of Christianity to state power? It is not necessarily one of opposition. After all, most state powers do some good from time to time. When they do, Christians may and should support them. But all state powers, including our own United States of America, also do what is wrong. They do it a lot. The best example is perhaps the way nearly every secular power has and is willing to use a military to kill, maim, and destroy in support of its aims. Such death and destruction are never moral. They are never Christian. Romans 13:1-7 may call for mindless obedience to every state power. Jesus Christ doesn’t. God doesn’t. We Christians must always evaluate the actions of our governments under the standards of the kingdom of God that we learn from Jesus. Tragically, the Russian Orthodox Church doesn’t do that. We must not follow its example.



[1] This name is usually translated as Navalny, but its technically correct transliteration is Navalnyi.

[2] The Patriarchy of Moscow, which Peter I had abolished, was reestablished after the Bolshevik coup of 1917.

Saturday, February 3, 2024

On American Evangelical Christianity

 This is the conclusion to a short book I've written with the title The Sins of American Evangelical Christianity. I may self-publish it, or I may not; but what I say in it is definitely worth saying.


In Conclusion

© Thomas C. Sorenson, 2024

 

American evangelical Christianity has developed into nothing short of sinful Christianity. It is a betrayal of Jesus Christ. Its failings begin with the fact that it has its adherents living in fear. Beyond that, it makes the great Christian religion be about how to get souls to a supposed next life in heaven rather than about transforming the world into the realm of God as Jesus calls us to do. It tells is adherents that they have to do something, namely, believe in Jesus, in order to avoid hell, often terrifying people into saying they believe when they really don’t. Its biblical literalism and belief in the divine inspiration of the Bible cut off intellectual inquiry. It raises ancient cultural prejudices to the level of divine truth. It disparages and restricts the role women. It condemns LGBTQ+ people. Its adherence to the classical theory of atonement makes God too small, makes God too human, turns God into a monster, and betrays Jesus by calling him a sacrifice, sacrifice being something he steadfastly opposed.

A great many of its adherents idolize the American fascist Donald Trump. A great many of its adherents idolize the United States of America, which they badly misunderstand. Nearly all of its adherents idolize the Bible. They call the Bible the word of God when the Bible says Jesus is the Word of God. Many of them call themselves Bible-believing Christians rather than Jesus-Christ-believing Christians. Many of them call their churches Bible churches rather than churches of Jesus Christ. Many American evangelicals are paranoid, thinking that the secular society in which they live and their country’s federal government are out to get them when there isn’t a shred of evidence that either of them is. They say the federal government will try to stop them from worshiping, something the federal could not constitutionally do. Many of them serve extreme right-wing politicians when Jesus, whom they claim to follow, was one of the most radically progressive people who has ever lived. Most of them support the militaristic policies of the American government and oppose sensible gun regulation when Jesus was one of history’s great prophets of nonviolence. American evangelism’s Christian exclusivism leads to hatred of and violence against Jews, Muslims, and people of other faiths. The list of the sins of American evangelical Christianity just goes on and on.

We’ve already considered some of the ways evangelical Christianity is harmful, yet there is one profound way that it is harmful that cannot be overstated. It is killing the Christian faith. It makes Christianity believable and attractive to a relatively small number of people while driving a great many people away from the faith. The loud public proclamations of its leaders have convinced most Americans that evangelical Christianity is true Christianity, which it is not. It is a bastardization of Christianity that fewer and fewer people all the time are willing even to consider much less accept. If Christianity cannot overcome American evangelicalism it will die, and it will deserve to die. Religious symbols cease being true symbols when they no longer correspond to the spiritual needs of a people. Christianity is symbolic, and its symbols appeal to fewer and fewer people all the time not because the symbols are wrong but because of what evangelical Christianity tells people they mean.

The symbols of Christianity appeal so little to so many because of the nearly universal belief among us that evangelical Christianity is the only Christianity there is. It isn’t. There is within the Christian denominations we used to call mainline a better vision of our ancient faith. Not everyone in those churches gets it of course, but some of us do. Some of us know that Christianity is a faith of love not hate. Of hope and courage not fear. Of inclusion not exclusion. Of respect for other faith traditions not self-righteous condemnation of them. Of justice not oppression. Of nonviolence not violence. Of open-mindedness not closed-mindedness. Of broad spiritual and intellectual inquiry not the checking of the mind at the church door.

In short, there is a Christianity that is the opposite of what evangelical Christianity has become in nearly every respect. Yes, both evangelical Christianity and true Christianity center their faith on Jesus Christ, but they understand Jesus Christ very differently. Yes, both evangelical Christianity and true Christianity use the Bible, but they understand and use it very differently. In essentially every other way, these two types of Christianity could hardly be more different.

They will, or at least can, lead to two radically different results. Evangelical Christianity will kill Christianity. Not tomorrow. Perhaps not for decades. But it will kill it. True Christianity has the ability to address the existential concerns of people today in a way evangelical Christianity cannot. It offers hope that the twenty-first century will not be the last century for a great faith tradition now nearly two thousand years old. It can lead people out of despair. It can give them hope and calm their fears. It can give their lives meaning in a way evangelical Christianity simply cannot. Will Christianity survive? I don’t know. If it cannot overcome American evangelical Christianity and give the world a better Christian vision, it will not. I hope and pray that it will.