“As a Christian ...” What does that mean?

Christians, it seems, pretty much believe everything and anything, in one form or the other, and behave accordingly:

Death penalty, abortion, war, Confederate Flag, drugs, sex, immigration, age of the earth, flat-earth, after-life, did American’s walk on the moon or not, homosexuality, women’s rights, rape, welfare, socialism, capitalism, Trump and Carson and Sanders and Hillary ...

And the religious stuff: Jesus, God, Holy Spirit, salvation, damnation, predestination, inspiration, the devil, hell, heaven, baptism, communion, nature of the church, papacy, and a myriad of doctrines, like infralapsarianism or supralapsarianism, millennialism, post-millenalism, pre-millenialism, many of which are convoluted beyond description ...

And Baptists (how many different kinds?), Presbyterians (a bunch of them, too), and Methodists, Episcopalians, Lutherans, Free Church, “debts” or “trespasses,” Pentecostals, dunkers, sprinklers, tongue-speakers, high-church, low-church, Reformed, Lutheran, Independent, non-denominational, store-front, King James Bible, pantheism, panentheism, theism, atheism, spiritualists, free-thinkers, revivalists, covenanters, extemporaneous or scripted, robed or bluejeans, clerical collar or button-down shirt ... pulpit or stage, organ or band ...

Seems to me that “christians” manage to believe just about everything on any given topic ... and behave in ways that pretty much cover the possibilities; so, what the heck does it mean when someone says, “As a Christian ...”

Perhaps it has some meaning in countering what “some other Christian” has to say about something, especially if that “christian” claims universality for her or his belief, such as “the only christian position on abortion is absolute prohibition.”

Well, then, “as a Christian,” I support a women’s right to choose. 

So there ...

For some, when I hear, “as a Christian,” it carries the sense of “Well, that’s settled!” As if “the christian” no longer has to think about it. That it’s been resolved for the ages, flowing in some kind of a pipeline direct from the throne of god.

I think there was a time when “as a Christian” meant “I’m going to heaven,” with the veiled threat to another, “And if you’re not a Christian, like I am, then you’re bound for hell and eternal flames. And, if that’s your choice, to be stupid, instead of smart, like I am, then I don’t give a damn, so to speak.”
But such things seem hardly worth anyone’s time these days. Even hardcore “christians bound for heaven” seem to have a harder time with all of this damnation stuff these days. What with all the hell-on-earth in which millions have to live every day of their life. 

Very few are comfortable enough to just say, “Here’s how I see it!” Adding, “as a christian,” gives it boost, a little more legitimacy, weight, value, or so we might think. As a christian, and I r 1 (end of discussion, eh?), it helps to consult the broader tradition, which pretty much says everything that can be said about anything, contradictions and all (how bloody christian history has been) ... but in the final analysis, one can only say, “Here’s how I see it” and maybe add a few whys and wherefores, and maybe even say, “I’m a christian, as I see it” ... but in the end, it’s all just opinion, and we’re stuck with that. Like it or not.

So, what’s the value of saying, “As a Christian ...”? Other than affirming what we we all know, and some would like to ignore, that Christians pretty much believe the entire spectrum of possible ideas on just about everything ... and behave accordingly.

The only option: live with it, state your case, with appropriate conviction and humility, and be kindly toward others ... especially those who live in hell-on-earth, and be ready to fight for them, set them free, and ready to challenge those who would perpetuate that kind of hell-on-earth in order to create their own private heaven-on-earth world in gated communities of privilege and power.

Maybe it’s best to say, “As a human being ...” but, then, that has it’s own issues, too!

Smile, you’re on candid camera!

Doctrine and Love???

In 4.1.7, Calvin writes of the Lord's Supper, and of our participation in it: an attestation of our "unity in true doctrine and love."

Had Calvin put a period after doctrine, we'd be left with an impossible dream, for Christians will never find unity on the basis of "true doctrine," at least in the long run. Perhaps in the short run, in the thrill of new friends and new-found associations. But in time, friendships wear and the new becomes just as tired and wearying as was the old.

Doctrine is a good thing, but only as a servant of love.

In those instances where doctrine has been given too much weight, the results are always the same: bickering, dissension and divorce.

And those newly married on the basis of doctrine will soon find other issues to debate, things endlessly in need of fine-turning, sub-point and codicil ... with mountains of paper, books and counter-books, claims and counter-claims, and with each round, a little more bitterness, a little more anger, a little more this and a little more that, until all those little things become big things, and the indifferent makes all the difference.

I know doctrine, but do I know love?

I spent a good many years, early on, in the land of doctrine; it was fun and rewarding, but wearing, too, as ideas wear upon one another like engine parts shy of adequate lubrication, until the whole thing ceases up and comes to a grinding halt.

I think it was Rob Bell who said, "Doctrine makes a good servant but a horrible tyrant." He would know, living and working as he does in Grand Rapids, sort of the Holy City in the Land of Doctrine.

But it's love with which Calvin ends the sentence.

That's always the good end, the only end required of us.

While I'm quite sure what doctrine looks like and a community of faith utterly shaped by it, I have difficulty imagining a community of faith driven by love.

Yet some things seem obvious: like putting up with one another and our respective views, without calling down the wrath of heaven or summoning up the fires of hell.

Making room for one another, and perhaps, then, we can finally address what has been our fatal flaw from the get-to: too much reliance on doctrine and not enough push on love - biblical love - highly ethical and pulsing with loyalty to one another because of Christ's loyalty to us!

Of the former issues of race and gender, those who favored the status quo were able to marshal tons of Scripture and tons more of doctrine. The weight of history, in the main, is always on the side of the conservative [note the Sadducees].

But there are other stories to be told, and someone like Diana Butler Bass ["A Peoples' History of Christianity"] helps us do just that, and with these smaller stories, reminds us of the ways of love, the courage of love, and the humility of love.

Calvin himself relied too much on doctrine [a man of his time, to be sure], but he could never forget the Holy Spirit, the mystery of God, and the power of love.

Doctrine is neat and clean, especially when we walk away from those who might offer another take on things. That's one way of keeping the house clean.

Love, however, requires of us something rather different, or so I think.

The next time I'm at the Lord's Table, which will be this coming Sunday, I'll think about these things ... to be united in true doctrine and love.