I feel a bit like I’ve dodged a bullet this past month. My kids are really too young to be aware the news, and it isn’t too hard to shield them from current issues that I would rather not discuss with them. Like the proposed burning of copies of the Quran as a church’s commemoration of September 11th. Don’t talk about it at the dinner table and you don’t have to answer any questions from the kids–not why or how or when-are-we-going-to-do-that-at-our-church-Mummy? These days are numbered, I know.
And, although we’re almost a month past the bonfire date, that issue is still in the air, primarily because it wasn’t a new issue in the first place. The Rev. Terry Jones merely announced an already awkward reality, loudly and dangerously.
There are a lot of different versions of church out there.
This past week, I came across an article prompted by the Florida hoopla. David Gushee is a professor of Christian ethics at Mercer University, and he asserted that it is most accurate to speak, not of “Christianity”, but of “competing Christianities.”
I am troubled that this rings true.
I don’t know what I have in common with Terry Jones. Based on the evidence, I can assume that his worldview must be drastically different from mine. What is the common link between us? The obvious Sunday school answer is Christ. We are all the family of God, centred on Jesus Christ, and, though we are made various, we are united in Him. And ontologically, yes, this is true. But when Terry Jones uses the name of Jesus to justify his actions, are we even talking about the same Jesus? We certainly aren’t sharing Him; maybe we are fighting over Him.
Because this isn’t a case of amiably disagreeing–you go your way and I’ll go mine. Gushee writes:
To say that there are competing versions of Christianity is not to say that any version is as good as any other one. Quite the contrary—the contest over which version of Christianity is truest to the intent of the God we have met in Jesus Christ is a matter of desperate importance. But because of the diversity of the biblical materials, because of the way Christian faith has been transmitted through various traditions, because we are all still sinners, and because we see through a glass darkly, Christians have always contested various versions of the faith. Traditionalist conservatives like to identify a pristine “faith once delivered to the saints,” and to plant their flag there. But despite heroic efforts to pin down the nature and content of that faith, its content was—and is, and ever shall be—contested.[1]
So what does that faithfully contesting the faith look like? Gushee’s term “competing Christianities” indicates that the divisions aren’t just details, but, in some cases, can be foundational to the point that the faith itself becomes pluralized. And how do we then listen to Paul’s counsel that, in as much as it is up to us, we are to live at peace with others?
Keith Randall, who also blogs here for the Record, writing on postmodernity and relativism, recently posted this thought:
“Open to the other among us” seems to be a particularly Christian–and postmodern–posture in the traffic and turmoil of our global village.
I’ve been living with that line for a while now. It, too, rings true. Being “open to the other” means listening to people around us to find the image of God. To listen honestly sometimes requires that we then speak out, because failing to speak out can be interpreted as a failure to hear. If another’s violence is distracting people from seeing the image of God in them or in others, some protest or correction is required. Parenting 101: Don’t ignore hitting.
We teach our children to understand and accept differences in the world. But what do we want them to do in the face of things that are out-and-out wrong? As parents, we promise at baptism to renounce evil. Some of us are great at that, embracing the activist side of faithful living. Others like to be quieter and aren’t quite sure what battles to fight. I first heard about the Koran burning via a posting on facebook by an American friend. (I know. Shameful.) I wanted to comment, but had no idea what to say. I was dumbfounded. But that isn’t a way of responding. You can’t sit in silence and expect your protest to be heard. Especially when you are a parent.
When I was in high school, I had a good friend with friends at a different high school. I remember being introduced as Katie-she’s-Christian-but-she’s-cool. At the time, that made me feel great. Me–cool! But it bothered me later. I knew what he was getting at. He wanted his friends to know that I wasn’t “one of those” Christians. I was glad that he noticed – I wanted my specific faith to be visible. But I was troubled that in me, others saw a judgment on other Christians. But perhaps it would be more troubling to know that someone looks at me and thinks about burning the Koran.
[1] Unfortunately, the site where Gushee’s column originally appeared-www.abpnews.com–has recently been hacked and the article is not available there at present. You can find longer excerpts here, and I will let you know when the original is online again.
