American Christians often wonder exactly how their faith and politics ought to intersect. It’s an understandable confusion, especially for those who value freedom of belief and religious diversity. I often hear that we should “keep politics out of the pulpit,” but doing so is a theological impossibility for those who take Jesus’ teachings seriously because Christianity is inherently political.
In June, United Methodist Church delegates voted to repeal its church’s long-held exclusionary stance of its LGBTQ+ Methodists- in church doctrine, polity, and social standing. The news was received with mixed feelings – cheers and tears.
After growing up in a Fundamentalist/Evangelical Christian tradition, I have come to identify as a Progressive Christian. I’ve noticed that the term has a lot of different meanings to different people, which makes sense given that relatively few of us started as Progressive Christians. For many of us, Progressive Christianity is like the place we we came to as we escaped from somewhere else. The word “camp” is fitting:. I don’t think of Progressive Christianity as a destination, but rather an ongoing process.
What will happen if we disappear? Not “we” as in Earth’s upright and most capable digit-users, though I’m sure we’ll deal with that over the course of time, but “we” as in progressive thinkers in the church. What will happen if we disappear?
What such people meant by this is that they feared that the era of privilege and power for straight, white, wealthy, capitalist men might soon pass unless it becomes vigorously defended.
How will people of faith show up? Will the knee jerk reactions of shock and awe at the news that African Americans are dying at alarming rates elicit advocacy and activism for long-term strategies to correct structural and systemic injustices? Will people who claim to be Christians consider themselves “woke” because they write a check in support of a food pantry?
In a responsible response to the coronavirus outbreak, also known as COVID-19, church and worship services across the globe are canceled. Traditional Bible study has gone online. Sermons are watched on Zoom, and old videos of singing church choirs have popped up in my inbox. Our global engagement with one another right now is social distancing while staying connected, revealing our acts of spiritual communion.
The following is taken from an interview with Bishop John Shelby Spong on September 18th, 2018. Recorded at his home in Richmond, Virginia
Interpreting scripture as the “ ord of God” is always subjective and suspect in intent, whether it is being done in the ivy towers of seminaries or within the holy walls of sanctuaries. Interpreting scripture with menacing messages – and with litanies of dos and don’ts – is not about embracing and empowering all people, but about authority and power over certain groups of people. The authority of scripture does not lie in what God said. It lies in the hands of those in power who determine what God ought to say.
Moral leadership has never been consistent in my lifetime, and I presume for us all. Like most social issues that are shaped by our human actions or inactions, moral leadership has its ebbs and flows.