Christian vs Christian: Why we’re both wrong

Christianity has two extremes, and they’re both wrong. Extremes are often dangerous, but in few other cases are the results as unbearably grating on the spirit. I too find myself compelled by the magnetic wrench of progressive Christianity heaving me toward the polar brink of radical behavior like questioning Bible translation conventions, voting for Obama, and publicly mocking Mark Driscoll. If I had to answer in one word, yes or no without the luxury of explanation, to the question: “Are you a Christian like John Piper?” I would grit my teeth, weigh the outcome of how my answer would be interpreted, and probably just say no.

I wish I was able to make the argument that our extremes aren’t so different when viewed from outside of our microcosm. We worship the same Jesus, who has called us to act as one body, a single organism, each with a separate and unique purpose to serve. It is likely that, because of Heaven’s extremely lax perfection policy from which I myself would benefit, I will be spending an eternity with these people if everything goes according to plan. I wish I could say that no matter how we all disagree, our conflict is dwarfed by our greater commitment to the big picture of God’s plan for humankind and Christ’s message of boundless love. If I could argue that point, this would be a much better piece of writing. Unfortunately, we on one side are relatively convinced that those on the other side hold views that are intrinsically evil. One Christian’s obedience is another Christian’s sexist oppression. One believer’s Christ-like acceptance is another believer’s enabling of abominable sin.

The result becomes a very visible and very childish cat fight. On the day of Barack Obama’s second inauguration, Mark Driscoll tweeted "Praying for our president, who today will place his hand on a Bible he does not believe to take an oath to a God he likely does not know." As appalling and off-base as I felt this comment was, I was more disappointed by the reaction from Christians who shared my disgust. The reaction was visceral, ugly, and surprisingly profane, which made perfect sense for someone accessing the levels of passion one should expect from a person of faith; but since when does the outrage of our passion surpass the spirit of why we are passionate? How badly does someone need to violate your beliefs to warrant violating them yourself?

It’s impossible to discuss extremes without considering Revelation 3:15-16:

I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot. So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth.

I remember growing up in the church, hearing this passage for the first time, and asking a woefully under-prepared Sunday School teacher “Why does He want us to be cold OR hot? Shouldn’t Jesus want us to be specifically one or the other?” This is a verse you hear a lot in the church, and it bugged me every time. Later, I just assumed that Christians were like coffee. Good hot. Good cold. Bad tepid? Rarely is the verse accompanied by the very next line “Because you say, ‘I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have need of nothing,’ and you do not know that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked.” I never hear this passage mentioned as a warning against stagnancy brought on by prosperity, only against “casual Christianity”. Understanding that this verse is warning against stagnancy, and not a reprimand on philosophical moderation, it could also be argued that stubbornly subscribing to an extreme could actually lead to becoming lukewarm. I wonder how many people are familiar with this verse and have no idea that they are in danger of being spit out.

The issue of extremes has played a large role in my struggle with rejoining a church. I have as much difficulty attending a church that does not recognize its female members as equals as I would attending a church that sees the Bible as a loose set of guidelines and metaphors. Both ends of the spectrum are often held hostage by their political affiliations and the lies and disunity perpetuated equally by each party. I believe that Jesus fits the role of the extreme, but that his standard is outside of the 2-dimensional horizon between right and left, cold and hot, Driscoll and McLaren.

I am not recommending absolute moderation any more than I am recommending moral relativism. I believe there is a definable truth, but I also believe that our inflexibility makes us weak. We need to find the equilibrium where we can combine living without compromise but also allowing ourselves to be open to correction and accepting the possibility that our personal dogmas may not be, and are statistically unlikely to be, 100% correct. Not only does our devotion to the far end of the spectrum make us rigid, it is creating an obstacle in our ability to function as Christ’s body. It is causing us to represent ourselves as God’s bickering children, poking each other from the shopping cart at the supermarket. Unless we can find our peace, until we can accept each other as brothers and sisters, we are in danger of being spit out. We can disagree with each other, but we should see Christ’s love in our correction, not self-righteousness in our judgment. I am still likely to take my jabs at Pastor Mark, but I can also admit the he is making an effort to love and follow Christ the best way he knows how. And I need to be comfortable worshiping by his side, because I may find myself stuck next to him for an eternity.

Take 2

It goes without saying that it has been a while since my last post.  Honestly, I never found myself with a lack of motivation to write or a shortage of topics to write about, but I can’t say I felt particularly proud of the tone or the direction I immediately picked up on from my first two posts, and felt uncomfortable moving forward from the path I started on.  I always wanted reChurched to be more than an outlet for passing churlish judgments of main stream Christians, but instead a common ground for the growing number of other Christians like me who are feeling frustrated and alone within the “body of Christ”.  I didn’t want to fall under the temptation of being the snarky blogger who was a bigger contributor to the problem then the initial conflict they were commenting on.

                I still believe that there are hugely damaging issues inherent with the vocal majority of the church and that they need to be addressed.  I believe that Atheists are making better arguments against us than we are convincingly refuting, and I believe that instead of coherently representing our Faith we are falling back on the infantile training we received in Sunday School.  I believe the Bible is truth and that so so so many people are reading it incorrectly.  However, I also believe in being the peacemaker, not the stone thrower, and I think my posts were better at starting fights than offering resolution.

                So I would like to try again.  I won’t be changing my subject matter, only my approach.  I understand I am not an expert on all things Christian.  I am a guy who left the church over 10 years ago and never lost my Faith despite some prevailing resentment.  I have a lot of rediscovery ahead of me, and perhaps that is really what reChurched should mean.  Not re-educating the mainstream church but sorting out what I thought I always knew.  This is getting pretty fluffy, it’s obviously midnight.  I said to myself that I would keep this short and informal, so I’ll leave it at that.  To my modest readership, thank you for taking a second look at this, and I hope we’ll make a better go of it this time around.