“Since concepts have proved themselves to be so rich and useful, the Sophia [Wisdom] intended by philosophy and theology has been overshadowed by the epistēmē [science] of concepts, specifically, of general concepts. Theology then slowly becomes a conceptual system, and once the concept has emancipated itself from all its emotional constituents, theology can dispense with love as a constitutive ingredient. The concept does not need love to be a clear and distinct concept. Love becomes relegated to piety or devotion and no longer to theology, which increasingly grows into a conceptual science.” (Delio, Ilia. The Not-Yet God: Carl Jung, Teilhard de Chardin, and the Relational Whole (pp. 125-126). (Function). Kindle Edition. Panniker, Rythym of Being 195)
This statement is densely written despite being an astute description of the reality of theology. We’ve all met the problem or issue. Theology quickly shifted from narrative, as found in the Gospels, to doctrinal statements and arguments. A good example of this is baptism, a rite used in Judaism to indicate the conversion of a Gentile to Judaism. Then it was a folk right of conversion at the hands of John the Baptist. It is true that Jesus submitted to the Baptism of John, but no narrative shows him baptizing. His own baptism has long been a conundrum of theology. Jesus could not have been confessing sins or converting to anything. So why the baptism?
According to Matthew, Jesus instructed his disciples to baptize those who heard and responded to the message of the Gospel (Mt. 28:19); however, his most powerful remarks pertained to immersion in the Holy Spirit. The historicity of his command in Matthew 28:19 is largely questioned. Mark 16:16 is clearly part of an ahistorical text added to Mark in a later century. Even as Jesus preached, a controversy arose over baptism. By what authority did John baptize? That may be the first dogmatic controversy of those who would be known as Christians.
In the letter to the Galatians, Paul confronts dependence on beliefs in ideas in favor of faith and love. He opposes reliance on law in favor of faith. What is more legal: the law of the Old Testament or the laws of dogmatism? If one reads all of the letters of Paul, one gets a consistent theme: “faith, hope, love abide and the greatest of all is love.” (I Corinthians 13:13). His theology is backed by the goepel narratives.
We easily forget that the Protestant Reformation rebelled against what it saw as the Roman Catholic dependence on works for salvation. The works referred to were primarily ecclesiastical, including religious rites such as baptism, confession, confirmation, communion, marriage, ordination, and last rites. Each was weighed down with dogma. While viewed appropriately, they could lead to a pious life, but did they result in salvation, freedom, and hope? Martin Luther read the book of Romans and said, “No!”Thus he articulated what later became the dogma of Protestantism: Christ alone, Faith alone, Grace alone. What is meant by this mantra? That discussion necessitates a thorough examination of the history of Protestant theology. The issue here is that instead of this mantra being a guide to thinking about our faith, it became the law, the dogma. If you did not accept that, you were out. I have an acquaintance who has chosen his church based on whether it affirms the mantra.
Romans 3:21-24 says:
But now apart from the law the righteousness of God has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.
Unless one accepts the many tradition-laden interpretations of Romans, Paul spends three chapters arguing that all humans are under the same cloud of condemnation or light of salvation. Believing in and adhering to the demands of the law does not make one righteous or unrighteous. One is judged by the generous justice of God. Notice we are all judged not by law, not by dogma, not by doing this or that ritual action, but by the grace of God through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.
The judgmental nature of humans reads the words of Paul and overlooks the Gospel narratives. We want God’s justice to be our justice, which means having a matrix or algorithm, in today’s language, to make the judgment. Thus, we are told in the revival that we must confess, be baptized, come to church and learn what it teaches is the right way to believe. Many churches shape their worship around the revival model today.
The Gospels and the letters lead us to a different interpretation if we read them differently. That difference is what I believe Paul and the other authors of the New Testament attempted to convey. No doubt a judgment theme exists, but it is a counter-theme, not the theme. The theme is the immeasurable and generous nature of the God of the universe. The historic liturgy, which we believe dates back to the earliest days of the church, leads to calling the worshippers into community with Christ Jesus and His disciples worldwide. The message of worship is that the generous grace of God calls the universe into inclusive unity of diversity.
Let’s consider a contradictory notion of the typical theology of the church. According to Protestant theology, we are saved by faith, not by works, as Ephesians 2:6-10 says:
And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
The conundrum of faith is how to avoid building one’s theology on faith alone and not on works. That is especially difficult when one wishes to control the context. Evidently, Protestantism is anarchical. There are now thousands of Protestant denominations, indicating a fracturing of the church and a loss of control. However, each of the denominations has tried to distinguish itself dogmatically. Anarchy also existed the first several centuries of the church. One’s view of the nature and person of Jesus Christ depended largely on where one lived. There were at least five or six distinct descriptions. A consequential debate raged over whether a sacrament retained its sacramental power if the priest was found to be unfaithful. There were many more controversies. The disunity of theological belief persisted until Constantine became a Christian and imposed Christianity as the official faith of the Empire. To resolve the Christological controversies, he called the Council of Nicea.
I have lived my life in the Protestant anarchy as a Presbyterian (USA) whose doctrine is typically characterized as Calvinist. Put simply, that means a focus on the sovereignty of God, the proclamation of the gospel, and faith alone. However, in recent years, we have focused on the mantra “Reformed and always reforming.” Some say we have run headlong into cultural conformity, while most of us have celebrated the opening of our churches to women in ministry, gay and lesbian persons in ministry and marriage, and loving those who are on the margins economically, socially, racially, sexually and so on. We now have a focus on becoming a Matthew 25 church/denomination through lifting up congregational vitality and seeking to effectively deal with systemic poverty and racism. The result of this movement within the PCUSA has been a loss of those who take issue with accepting LGBTQ+ persons as members, let alone as ordained Deacons, Elders, and Ministers. We have our doctrines, but in seeking to live in love and grace, we have opened our minds and doors.
Some have called us heretical. Most fundamentalists have. The theologian, Joe Rigney, who was central in my last two posts, has. If we are heretical, I am pleased to be so because I believe I am walking the “way of Jesus.”
Those who would make the charge of heresy are sacrificing love and grace on the altar of dogma. Their focus on a theology of patriarchy, theological absolutes, and dogmatic correctness flies in the face of biblical teachings.
Recognizing the danger of becoming dogmatic on my part, I believe the way of Jesus is characterized by love, grace, and hope, which are the most central themes of the New Testament and many passages in the Old Testament. As I sought to articulate in much that I have written in this space before, from the opening sentences of the Gospels to the closing words of Revelation, hope for all persons is central, while most in the church have focused on judgment. They make circuitous arguments to make judgment a significant part of their theology, despite Jesus clearly saying, “Judge not lest you be judged.” This saying is found in Matthew and Luke. Does that mean we can judge nothing at all? No! In John 7:24 Jesus says, “Stop judging by mere appearances, but instead judge correctly.” The principle is what we now call fact-checking. Or in this case, correcting. I do not judge that they are heretical, unsaved, but wayward and misguided.
In the 14th to 19th centuries, the churches’ judgment regarding slavery is now considered in error by nearly everyone. During those years, the official position of most of the church was approval of slavery. Based on what? Not love, not by the inclusive position of the early church. It was created based on the prejudices and economic and political goals of the most dominant nations in Europe. The prejudices were that indigenous peoples in Africa, America, and Asia were uncivilized, ignorant, barbaric, and heathen. Such views made those views constitutive of theology, politics, economics and conquest. That is how dogma works. Dogma lies beneath all efforts to control. Thus, the present dogmatic movement of the churches promotes male dominance in the household and the church. If you dare to disagree with their patriarchal views regarding domestic, sexual, ecclesiastical, social, and political relationships, you are doing evil.
The teachings of Jesus regarding judgment, love, grace, hope, inclusion, and so on, are ignored or overshadowed by sophisms. In essence, they are modern-day Pharisees, Sadducees and Scribes who seek to strain out a gnat by swallowing a camel (Matthew 23:24). Jesus said, “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former.” (NIV) He echoes many Old Testament texts that call for mercy and justice, not law or dogma.
Are there teachings about specific doctrine? Hardly. At times, the biblical authors speak about truth, but never in the context of dogma. But Jesus calls for justice, mercy, kindness, love, inclusion of the outcast, and overabundant forgiveness. In Galatians 5:1, Paul wrote, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.”
Much traditional interpretation claims he is speaking of freedom from sin, yet a great deal of the chapter is an argument against being bound by the dogma of circumcision. He wrote that to be circumcised is a rejection of the freedom given in Christ through faith. He reiterates time and again the preeminence of love. Then he writes:
So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law.
The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other. (Galatians 5:16-26 NIV)
This text has challenged Protestantism because Protestantism has always substituted dogma—doctrinal demands— for the law. In some circles, it requires walking an aisle in an altar call and then being baptized. This, despite Paul having equated circumcision with baptism. Baptism is a sign of our entrance into the freedom about which Jesus preached and Paul affirmed.
Galatians 5 has been used to censure the behaviors listed as acts or fruits of the flesh; however, one never overcomes those things by simply committing not to do them. One overcomes the flesh through the Spirit. I often told my congregations that the way to become a follower of Jesus was not by trying not to be un-Christian. The way to righteousness and the life of freedom in the Spirit is by practicing the fruit of the Spirit.
Thus, we run headlong into the controversy over faith versus works righteousness. If Christ has set us free (5:1) and we are living in the Spirit, Paul wrote, “in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (Rom 12:1-2).
The pattern of the world is that of the fruits of the flesh. Paul said the transformation of the renewed mind in Christ is doing God’s will, namely, living by the fruit of the Spirit. Perhaps that is not clear enough, so let us turn to the words of Jesus. In Matthew 25, Jesus tells several parables. The meanings are intentionally obscure. The last, referring to bags of gold, seems contrary to what he had been teaching over the last few chapters, but he ends the chapter with a revolutionary proposal we shorthand as Matthew 25, but it is actually verses 31-46.
Here Jesus told his disciples:
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
Those who care for the least of these are those who have been righteous who “take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.” He went on to tell the contrary. Those who do not do for the least of these are not yet righteous, do not yet take the “inheritance”. The door is always open to become righteous to take the “inheritance.” Doing to the least of these is a spiritual discipline, as saints like Francis of Assisi, Dorothy Day and Mother Teresa understood.
While I was growing up, I heard stories from my Grandmother about the depression and beggars coming and asking for food. She said she always gave them a sandwich, no matter how little they had in the cupboard. The reason was that he might have been Jesus.
That belief seems to be a generational one about which I hear little today. My church, located in the mountains of Appalachia, would always gather to rake the leaves in the yard each fall. One of the women, Myrle (her real name as a memorial), always prepared soup beans and corn bread, a traditional meal in that area. One day, a very dirty, tall, lanky man came over and asked if he could help for something to eat. I consulted the others, and we agreed he could. He worked like a mule, and we finished early. While Myrle finished preparing the food, he went to the restroom and returned, face shining clean, hands clean enough for any of us, and when I checked, the restroom was pristine. He talked easily with us. He said he’d fallen on bad times and was living under a railroad bridge. He ate voraciously. Myrle asked if he’d like a jar of soup and a pan of corn bread to take with him. “I surely would, Ma’am! Thank you kindly.” When he left, Myrle asked me, “Do you think he was Jesus?” I replied, “For those of us here today, he is.” She was thrilled.
Fulfilling the Gospel of Matthew 25:31-46 is a liberating experience. You do not need dogma to do it. You only need love because
“These three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” (1 Corinthians 13:13)