by Delwin Brown
Like almost everyone else, but not everyone! Not conservative Christians. To be conservative means to conserve a heritage. Conservative Christians, against the majority of the culture and, indeed, also against much of the Church, retained a sense of the special importance of Christian history for Christian people. In that respect, progressive Christianity allies itself with Christian conservatism. But not entirely, by any means, as we shall see.
Not Conservative Christianity Polished Up
Since the middle of the nineteenth century, conservative Christianity in America has tended in one of two directions. One emphasized right action, the other right belief. Neither totally dismissed the other's concern, to be sure, but their different emphases led nevertheless to quite different forms of conservative Christian piety. 'Ihe focus on right belief was especially indebted to the great sixteenth-century theologian John Calvin. In America, however, its most influential intellectual shaping came through the scholarly "fundamentalism" of the Princeton theologians in the late 1800s, a school of thought to which we shall return shortly.
'Ihe emphasis on right action in nineteenth-century conservatism was motivated in large part by the active piety of John Wesley, an Anglican priest who founded Methodism a century earlier, even if it spread well beyond the confines of the Wesleyan movement and its theology. Its blossoming in the middle of the nineteenth century is often called the Second Great Awakening. Its message was a call for personal and social "holiness;' that is, for personal discipline coupled with the vigorous pursuit of a just social order. The term "evangelicalism" is an apt designation of this emphasis, and it is a form of conservatism that the evangelicals of today would do well to emulate more fully.
'1 he nineteenth-century evangelicals-represented, for example, by the "hellfire and brimstone" revival preacher Charles G. Finney-were zealots in the movements to abolish slavery, establish women's rights, and overcome poverty. Finney and like-minded evangelicals denounced the mainline preachers for their moral timidity-or as one of them ('Theodore Weld) said, for their "truckling subserviency to power ... clinging with mendicant sycophancy to the skirts of wealth and influence ... [and] cowering before bold transgression when it stalks among the high places of power with fashion in its train...."' Evangelical couples in their wedding vows renounced the rule of husband over wife sanctioned by civil law. About the same time, evangelical groups like the Wesleyan Methodists, Free Methodists, Church of the Nazarene, and Christian and Missionary Alliance came into being in order to minister to the poor who, they said, were demeaned by establishment churches and "oppressed" (their term) by the "rich and powerful."
The strong witness of the evangelical conservatives flourished until the Civil War. In the immense social strife after that war, however, their concerns turned sharply inward and private. By the 1870s evangelicalism was no longer preaching "social holiness." Now the focus was on personal piety, which increasingly became trivialized as abstinence from card-playing, smoking, drinking, dancing, and other "sins of the flesh."
Why the tragic retreat from a full-bodied Christian witness? "Ihe answer in large part, I think, was the absence of a full-bodied theology, a theology adequate to guide and sustain the evangelical spirit when it encountered the recalcitrance of social injustice. In other words, its heart was not nourished by the head; it "conserved" an evangelical spirit but not a credible belief system to support that spirit. In a manner analogous to the later decline of liberalism (which, interestingly, was also debilitated by a war, World War I), evangelical conservatism became little more than the baptized mores of its populist and conservative social order.
The other form of American conservatism rising to prominence after the Civil War is best represented by the "fundamentalism" of the Princeton School. How ironic that today this term connotes anti-intellectualism. Exactly the opposite was true of the Princeton fundamentalists in the 1880s and '90s. They were stalwart intellectuals who endeavored to validate the claims of the Christian faith intellectually. Scholars like A. A. Hodge and B. B. Warfield sought to do so by grounding Christian beliefs in what they said was the unique character of the Bible, its "inerrancy" They debated their views of Scripture openly, paid attention to new biblical scholarship without fear, and revised their views on the Bible when the evidence required it. In fact, based on their own biblical study, they eventually concluded that the term "inerrancy" could apply only to the original manuscripts of the Bible, now lost. 'Therefore any contradictions in Scripture (such as the two different stories in Genesis I and 2) came about through human error that crept in later while copying and recopying the original documents. Obviously, if the original manuscripts were lost, the claim that they were without error could not be challenged. 'lhe unique character of the "original autographs" was therefore protected, but at great cost-they were not available to guide subsequent Christians' life and thought. The fundamentalist insistence on biblical inerrancy was thus untenable, if applied to the current Bible, or inapplicable, if applied to Scripture in its earliest form. In time, fundamentalism could only continue as an antiintellectual mass movement wedded to a rhetoric of biblical inerrancy that no reasonable study of Scripture could sustain.
A progressive Christian theology shares the nineteenthcentury evangelicals' commitment to social justice (even though in retrospect their views were naive regarding issues of race, gender, sexuality, and even class). But a theology that can endure must be much more deliberate than that of the evangelicals in its intellectual awareness and articulation. 'The mind is not all of human nature by any means, but it is part of and essential to a healthy humanity. Similarly, a full and credible theology is essential to a healthy Christianity. Hence a progressive Christian movement, if it is to be more than a tad, must be resolutely theological as well as active in the pursuit of justice.
In this respect the model of the nineteenth-century fundamentalists is strangely-perhaps shockingly-to be respected by progressive Christians today because the early fundamentalists certainly used their minds. Eventually, though, the fundamentalist movement let a dogma about the Bible obscure the truth about the Bible and thus, too, the nature of biblical truth and biblical authority. That failing continues today in much of conservative Christianity. Conserving the Bible as it is is one thing; conserving the Bible as conservative dogmatists imagine it to be is another. The Bible is not inerrant, in history, science, and ethics-nor is it inerrant in theology. And, as we shall see, it does not need to be in order to ground, guide, and sustain Christian identity.
What, then, do progressive Christians learn from conservatives? They learn the very thing that liberal Christianity forgot-that all people, including Christians, are historical people. We are formed by our past. More than that, as Christians we live today, fully in the present, drawing from that past. The Bible, and the tradition of debate, disagreement, reflection, correction, and innovation that stems from the Bible, is the distinctively Christian contribution that we bring-as one set of voices among politically equal others-to our contemporary public discussions about what is true and good.
How do we dare bring into our current debates the resources of a tradition that is multiple and fallible, and grounded in an ancient text that is fallible and diverse? Because that text and the traditions it forms, in which our identity is grounded, model precisely that kind of dialogue. More than that, this text and the traditions it forms mandate for us, as an act of personal faith, this kind of contribution to the public debates we are now having.
To pretend that our histories are absolute or inerrant is a mistake, but to ignore the power of our fallible traditions to inform, enrich, criticize, and transform the present is a grave mistake, too. In fact, we are historically formed, and from our histories we live in the present. To live today-knowledgably, reflectively, self-critically-bringing into our time the redemptive resources of biblical reflection and practice is to be a progressive Christian.
Then What Are We?
Progressive Christianity is an analysis and
rejection, in the name of Christian faith, of the message that comes from rightwing Christianity. But it is more than that. It is also a critique of liberal and conservative Christianity, as well as a continuation of valuable elements provided by each. But what, more fully, is it that progressive Christians affirm, and why?
'Ihe remainder of this small volume describes basic progressive Christian beliefs. Or, more precisely, it describes one progressive Christian belief perspective.
'There is room in the progressive Christian community for differences. In fact, some progressive Christians may disagree about the choice of basic topics that form the structure of this hook. And there is certainly reason for progressive believers to differ within these basic topics, emphasizing one point rather than another or adding something that they think has been missed in this discussion. All of that is as it should be in a theological discussion.
"'Theological;' you say in surprise, "I thought this was about what real people believe." You are right, that's what this hook is about: what real progressive Christians believe, and why. But that is precisely what theology is about in progressive Christianity today and, indeed, in much of the Christian tradition. Theology is exploring what is believed, and why; it is trying to make those beliefs clear, to test them, and to identify the good reasons (if there are some!) for holding them.
What are "good reasons" for a belief?
As you will see, for the progressive Christian they are not reasons that are merely personally satisfying or only satisfying to those who share the belief. Progressive Christianity is not a "you just have to believe it" point of view. But neither, for us, are good reasons the same as "proofs." They are not the kind of argument the conclusion of which any reasonable person will necessarily accept if he or she understands the argument. Good reasons don't force assent.
I will put it this way: "Good reasons" are reasons for believing something that a person who does not share that belief can nevertheless respect. They are reasons that someone else thinks to be credible even if they are not compelling for him or her.
This introductory volume describes a progressive Christian perspective and the good reasons for holding this point of view. But it seeks to do more than that. It seeks to explain why this credible, if not provable, point of view is worth organizing one's life around and giving one's life to. Not blindly (that's forbidden by the view point, as you will see) and not without a willingness to change (that willingness is something progressive Christianity requires). But a perspective worth entering and living by.
In other words, this book seeks to say why progressive Christianity is "gospel;' a word of "good news" that merits living for and sharing with others. And "others" includes liberals who are searching, conservatives who are open, and others who are curious.
POINTS FOR REFLECTION
• liberal Christians held that the Bible provides the material relevant for all ages, and calls each generation to reshape those biblical insights and convictions for its time, based on reason and experience.
• liberal Christianity too often became little more than the sanctimonious expression of common cultural beliefs and values.
• Early "evangelicals" coupled personal holiness with the pursuit of justice. 'Their leaders condemned slavery, challenged the inequities of capitalism, and championed the rights of women.
• Evangelicalism no longer preached "social holiness." Now its focus was exclusively on abstinence from "sins of the flesh"
• 'Ihe Princeton "fundamentalists" gradually concluded that "inerrancy" applied only to the first (now lost) manuscripts of the Bible.
• Eventually the fundamentalist movement let a dogma about the Bible obscure the truth about the Bible and thus, too, the nature of biblical truth and biblical authority.
• A progressive Christian movement, if it is to be more than a fad, must be resolutely theological as well as active in the pursuit of justice.
• To pretend that our past histories are absolute or inerrant is a mistake, but to ignore the power of our fallible traditions to transform the present is also a grave mistake.
Chapter 2
Bible:
Negotiating the Heritage
hristianity did not begin with the Bible. It began with Jesus of Nazareth as he was understood and proclaimed by his followers. But we must begin with the Bible for at least two reasons. First, it is the source of what is known about Jesus as interpreted by those who believed in him. 'Iherefore, for historical reasons, we must start with the Bible.
Second, the Bible-or at least our divergent understandings of it-is the source of basic disagreements among Christians, as evidenced by the sharp controversies in the mainline denominations today regarding homosexuality. Divergent understandings of the Bible also relate to differences between Christians and some of Christianity's sharpest critics, such as atheists Sam Harris in Letter to a Christian Nation and Richard Dawkins in The God Delusion. For these reasons too, then, we need to begin with a consideration of the Bible, its nature, and its proper role in Christian thought and practice.
Being Biblical about the Bible
It is silly to claim, as some cynics do, that the Bible can be made to say anything. A serious comparison of the Bible with the Scriptures of the great Eastern religions, for example, makes it clear that each is distinctive and, though they may share some commonalities, none can be twisted into a replica of another. The Bible, like sacred texts generally, has a distinctive if complex perspective on the world and how life is to be lived in it.
But it is also impossible to claim, responsibly, that what the Bible says is without error. The Bible is not inerrant. This is so clearly evident that we are tempted to dismiss its denial out of hand. We must dismiss it, of course, but the doctrine of biblical inerrancy has an origin that might be instructive for us, even today.
The view that the Bible is free from error is not a historic Christian doctrine. Of course the great theologians of the Church did claim that the Bible has a unique and exceptional character, even using a term like "infallible" to refer to the reliability of the Bible as a guide to truth. But when these same theologians, such as Augustine or Luther, went on soundly to condemn certain books, sections, or concepts in the Bible, we immediately are warned that by terms like "infallible" they could not have meant being "without error."
The use of "inerrancy" as a way of affirming the Bible's unique character was developed systematically in the seventeenth century as the basis of the Protestant reaction to the Roman Catholic claim for the inerrancy of the Church. And both doctrines-"dogmas" really-began to be qualified almost from the start. But the qualifications were never sufficient to adapt the doctrines to the evidence. The Catholic understanding of tradition, of which the Bible is the foundation, offers much from which Protestants can and should learn. Nevertheless, the notion that any element of tradition, however carefully circumscribed and defined, is or even could be uniquely protected from error is simply false and dangerous in the extreme. The temptation in some sectors of Protestantism to say that the Bible is protected from error is no less dangerous and no less false. Both lead to arrogance and bigotry, and both flatly contradict the facts.
It is now common, even among some more conservative or "evangelical" Protestant theologians, to acknowledge the contradictions in Scripture, which means Scripture's errors.' For example, Matthew 19 and Luke 16 disagree with Mark 10 on the grounds for divorce. One account must be wrong. Matthew 20 and Mark 10 differ on who requested special treatment for the Sons of Zebedee. Both cannot be right. Matthew 27 and Mark 15 differ with Luke 23 about what the centurion said when the Temple was torn in two. Was it "'T'ruly this man was God's son!" or "Certainly this man was innocent"? One report has to be wrong. Mark 10, Matthew 20, and Luke 18 are each different regarding the number and location of the blind men whom Jesus healed at Jericho. Mark 16 says the women who visited the empty tomb left and said nothing to anyone, but Matthew and Luke offer very different accounts. When the rich young ruler addr
essed Jesus as "good teacher," the reply reported in Mark and Luke is: "Why do you call me good? Only God is good" But the reply reported by Matthew is significantly different: "Why do you ask me what is good?"
If being biblical means speaking about the Bible in a manner that is consistent with the Bible, then the doctrine of inerrancy is unbiblical.
But the issue is not simply textual errors. If we are to be biblical about the Bible, the change that Matthew introduced into this story of the rich young ruler suggests something far more important than errors of fact for us to consider. Mark and Luke do not feel compelled to ascribe God-like goodness to Jesus. But, given his different theological perspective, Matthew does. He cannot allow Jesus to admit such a radical difference between himself and God. So Matthew changes the question asked in order to change the answer Jesus gives. Here we begin to see that there are not only conflicting factual accounts in the Bible; there are also different and conflicting theologies!
This theological diversity applies even to the most central elements of Christian faith-understandings of Jesus and salvation. Consider, for example, the Four Gospels: In Mark, the earliest gospel, Jesus is proclaimed as a preacher who is adopted by God at the moment of his baptism, and salvation is offered to those who, following the example of Jesus, are faithful throughout their suffering until the coming of the reign of God. In Matthew, however, Jesus is God's son from the moment of Mary's conception, and salvation comes through obedience to the New Torah, the new Jewish Law. Luke agrees with Matthew about the beginning of Jesus' sonship, but proclaims salvation as the divine reign that is coming in a future history. For John, the last gospel, Jesus' special status predates his baptism, even his birth: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." For John, Jesus is the preexistent Logos (or creative structure of the world) made flesh, and salvation is "abundant life;' a kind of mystic oneness that is available to believers already in the here and now.