If you’ve been following some of the theological articles in the Record over the past several years, you’ll have noticed that Christianity seems to be reforming into two overarching worldviews.
One worldview frames life’s big questions—the ones referred to in our cover story—from the perspective of what one ought to do: what is the right action in any given circumstance.
This group tends to be concerned with morals. Its members see the world and the choices we face in sharp contrast: more right and wrong than contextual. Requiring people to take a stand on issues. Perhaps we can even venture to say they are more generally anxious about life and worried that people will be misled by wrong – headed teaching.
The second overarching approach focuses on discerning how to be good, making community and relationships paramount. Instead of seeking proper decisions in a book—even a holy book—practical decisions will emerge. Scripture is read more thematically, in a sweeping style, and the historical context of a particular passage is of crucial importance in interpretation.
If we step back and review the letters to the editor in this magazine over the same period, we generally find the debates in the church and religion framed in terms of conservative and liberal.
Each side thinks the other is at best misguided, perhaps even profoundly wrong and misinterprets scripture. There tends to be a fair bit of each side yelling at the other.
But what if we could lay these distinctions aside? What if we are able to agree that the other side is not wrong, but is merely looking at the world through a completely different set of lenses and bringing a completely different set of concerns?
I once worked at a publication where all my colleagues were anxious to get their work done early, to make a decision about a story or page layout and that would be it. No changes.
I, on the other hand, was always tinkering with stories and layouts. I had at best a modest respect for the deadline until I absolutely had to make a final decision.
My colleagues thought I was being mean in undoing their good work and in creating avoidable stress for them at deadline. I saw them as uncooperative. Eventually, we brought in a mediator who helped us see that no one was being mean or uncooperative, but that we were bringing different values to the same problem.
Once we recognized our different styles, we were able to work out our differences harmoniously.
Is it possible, I wonder, if we could do the same thing in the faith arena? Instead of demonizing the other side, we might agree that everyone is trying to conform to God’s will, just in different ways, and so with different outcomes.
Take the gospels themselves as an example. One might characterize the synoptic writers (Matthew, Mark and Luke) as being more generally concerned with Jesus the man; the Messiah who will lead his people like the prophets of old into a new age. The emphasis is on the Man – God.
John, on the other hand, is concerned more about presenting Jesus as divine: the God – Man. “And the Word was made flesh ….”
Both are true, but profoundly different. So too are these two overarching worldviews that are concerned with thinking about our faith. They are both firmly grounded in scripture, but see faith’s role in our lives in profoundly different ways. The practical concern about morals is grounded in the question: What is the right thing to do? The other perspective asks: What is it good to be?
If there is any truth to this argument, perhaps it can also lead to a more amicable discussion, one that honours where the other side is coming from, not as opposed to one’s own position, but rather as looking at faith and life from just a very different perspective.
