There are many questions that mainstream science can’t answer, at least at the moment. Ethical and moral questions, such as: who should get the Covid vaccine first? And how can such a prioritization be made understandable and acceptable to the public? Science provides data upon which such judgments can be made, but ultimately we can’t trust science itself to sort them out.
Why, in all of this relatedness, do we feel so disconnected? Depleted? Empty? Because we mistakenly turn that which is divinely relational, into something inhumanely transactional. And, to make this sin livable, we turn our heads and forget our neoteny. Children don’t allow this sort of behavior. We are born into relatedness and unity.
Lent is a time where we’re invited to engage in deepened soul-searching. I’ve been feeling called to search the soul of progressive Christianity.
The Bible has a political agenda. Even with all the different writers who contributed to different books, there is a clear biblical bias against the powerful using their places of authority to step on those who are already suffering. That’s political.
Let’s be clear, this is an audacious idea. Writing a book about God is an audacious project. In fact, claiming to know anything about God is more than audacious—it is intellectual blasphemy. So, to begin, let me be clear. I have no idea what I am talking about.
Because I choose to remain within the church, I have to ask myself regularly “why do I believe what I believe?” and also “why do I stick around?” Why do I choose to stay put when the church has caused so much harm?
There is – and ought to be – plenty of criticism of Patriarchy at this time in history. But for that very reason there needs to be a critical understanding of what it is – and is not.
From Ezekiel to Jesus to the voices of the gospels, the proclamation is clear: civilization will not, indeed cannot, survive if wealth and power, and therefore food and shelter, are in the possession of but a few. Equally so, democracy will not and cannot survive if the bullies are allowed free reign.
My church was my extended family. And in my years of searching, I have yet to find a church like it, although I am sure they are out there. So, why did I feel like, at 29 years old, that I was done with Christianity?
As one who’s had to endure a career in a denomination whose global trademark is a burning cross, it once again raised the question in my mind of how the cross, burning or otherwise, had become a symbol of hate and White Supremacy.