I considered myself a "christian"
from early childhood, long before I had even a basic understanding
of what the term meant. (That's probably because, in America in
the 40s and 50s, you were a "christian" unless you were
clearly something else.) I didn't put meat on the bones of this
belief until my twenties, when I met people and read books that
presented me with a more tangible definition of - or at least
a framework for - Christianity. It sounded good to me, and I came
to believe that I really was a Christian.
As I grew serious about reading the Christian bible, and as I
regularly attended church meetings, I found I had a lot of questions
about how these "Christians" used (or, just as often,
didn't use) their bibles to define their religion. I regularly
brought up my concerns as I taught "Sunday school" classes
and otherwise participated in church activities. ("Is that
what that bible passage really means? Didn't Jesus say something
quite different?") I became bolder with my questions when
I wrote "If God is God,"
and then quite strident in some of my more recent writings. Still,
my questions and concerns were more about the organized church
than they were about "Christianity." In effect, I still
believed that Christians wanted the teachings of Jesus to be foremost;
they were just having a little trouble with the application.
I gave up on churches and denominations twenty years ago, when
I reached my limit of what I consider irreconcilable differences
between what Jesus said, and what the churches were teaching.
Particularly troubling to me was the trend toward militant politicization
of the church message. "Christians," through their votes
and through their spokesmen, more and more espoused "preemptive
war," suspension of civil rights, torture, racial hatred,
bigotry, and denigration of knowledge and science. Not only were
they in favor of these decidedly un-Jesus-like ideas, they sought
through political processes to force all Americans to abide by
their religious beliefs. Some of us who try to follow the teachings
of Jesus became appalled, disgusted, embarrassed and frustrated
by the increasing numbers of Americans who loudly proclaimed they
were Christians, yet showed almost none of the attributes of Christ.
"They aren't really Christians!" we shouted. How can
we present ourselves to the world as Jesus directed, when so many
others have made the world at large despise the word "Christian?"
* * *
To date, the fight-back strategy
of we Jesus followers has been to bemoan (mostly among ourselves)
what we consider the political corruption of Christianity, and
to suggest (mostly among ourselves) that we shouldn't allow those
people to call themselves "Christian." We try alternative
names for them, like "evangelist" (omitting the adjectival
"Christian"), or like author Thom Hartmann's "christianist"
(to suggest some perverted relationship with "true"
Christianity). I've written "don't call them Christians"
essays, myself, but I've changed my mind about that approach.
Here's why.
First, it doesn't really matter what we call them. They
call themselves Christians, and they've done it so loudly and
effectively for so many years that they are Christians to the
majority of the world. Our outrage over them "stealing"
our preferred title accomplishes nothing.
Second, I think maybe they really are the Christians, and we're
not. Remember that the term "Christian" wasn't used
until Antioch, many years after the death and resurrection of
Jesus. By that time, Peter, Paul and the other apostles had already
irreparably defected from many of Jesus' teachings, and even though
the term was meant (often derogatorily) to denote followers of
Christ, it really was being applied to the various religions that
had been created by others who came after Jesus. Over the centuries,
the concept of "Christianity" changed more and more,
and now there are hundreds (thousands?) of religions that claim
to be "Christian." Most of them use only those teachings
of Jesus that meet their particular needs, ignoring any that don't
fit their specific religious objectives or (in many cases) don't
adequately reflect their organizational prejudices. Do we people
who are trying to follow the teachings of Jesus want to be considered
just one more "Christian" religion? I don't.
* * *
But, if we let THEM be Christians, what are WE? Have you considered
that maybe we don't need to be ANYTHING? Jesus didn't come to
establish a Christian Religion. I suspect that he would be (in
fact, is, I'm sure) adamantly opposed to any religious creation
that elevates him, personally. Regularly, he made it clear that
everything he said and did was for the glory of God. Although
he unambiguously presented the message that - ultimately - there
would be a division between those who chose God's ways and those
who didn't, his proximate message was just as clearly one of unity,
of breaking down barriers, of joining together to better understand
one another. I think he eschews any labels, except for the implied
one of "God's children" (with "children" in
lower case letters).
Right away, I can hear some of you protesting: "Jesus is
the Messiah, and since following him separates us from all those
others who wrongly think they are following God, we do need to
identify ourselves, to separate ourselves from those others."
I wonder if we need to, or even if we should.
My basic beliefs are "christian." I believe in a god
who (in some way) created the Universe, including us. I believe
in a god who is not only creator, but is also a parental figure.
[In other words, this god cares for us both as creations (pride
of workmanship) and as individuals (children).] I believe this
god has given us good basic training, and continues to make knowledge
and wisdom available to us, even if we haven't always put that
training to good use, and even if we don't ask for the available
help. Finally, I believe that this god wants a closer relationship
with us - in fact, a familial reconciliation - and has provided
the means for us to have it.
What strikes me about my beliefs is that, put in this raw form
without specific religious identifiers or jargon, they sound to
me very much like what most other "religious" people
believe. I'm not as well versed as I could be on the religions
of the world, but it seems to me that their stories of creation
are all remarkably similar to one another. Their god (or gods)
may be personal or stylized, but he/she/they are still concerned
with the daily affairs of humans. Many religions have a belief
in a life after death, and many believe in a process whereby humans
are reconciled with their god(s). If I step aside from my own
"christian" biases, and neutrally compare them with
other belief systems, it's possible for me to see "Christianity"
and many of the other religions as modifications (corruptions)
of the original works and plans of one and the same god.
But, you respond, Jesus himself separated US from all the
others: "No man comes to the Father but by me." I believe
that we have to be reconciled to God through his sacrifice, but
I think there has to be more to the story than we get from the
Christians. I'm confused, because the only reference I have is
the Judeo-Christian bible, which was not completed for hundreds
of years after Jesus' time on earth, and clearly has many errors
(the result of hand transcribing ancient manuscripts one at a
time), intentional changes from the original manuscripts, and
(considering Jesus' own words) just plain unexplainable oddities.
I'm left with a very large question: Would God - who everybody
agrees is wise and just -- have entrusted the eternal fate of
all of humankind to a small group of people who God knew would
corrupt Jesus' teachings almost as soon as he left the tomb, and
would turn it into a message of division, rather than reconciliation?
I can't believe it.
I'll continue to follow the teachings of Jesus to the best of
my ability, and I'll continue to hold to the hope that one day
we'll be physically reconciled with God. As to all the other religious
trappings of the Christians, I can't accept them: I am not a Christian.