[LEMONS] 8.04.2003
On Religion
I don't typically talk about religion. Religion, particularly Western religion, is decidedly unpopular with intellectuals and bohemians. I have very few friends outside of the South who profess any religious convictions--aside from atheism--whatsoever. Paradoxically, the few friends I have who do practice their religions (Western, that is) tend to be some of the smartest and most talented people I know. They also tend to be Jewish, a religion that has a rich tradition of scholarship and tolerance associated with it. Yet Christianity and an intellectual life are often perceived to be at odds with one another. Despite the fact that every one of us takes things on faith every day of our life, to do so when it comes to a deity qualifies one as a fool in the court of the Bohemian King.Moreover, Christians are often perceived--in the circles I run in at least--as some sort of sinister cabal out to persecute all those who don't share their beliefs, and to roll back the clock on social equality and justice. It would be easy to blame the Ann Coulters, John Ashcrofts, Gary Bauers, and Jessie Helms of the world for creating this perception. But in reality the blame lies with progressive Christians like myself, who have stood by as mute witnesses and allowed pseudo-fascist right wing zealots to become the voice of our faith without ever loudly voicing our own beliefs. Without telling those on the outside that, no, there is no more unanimity of political opinion among Christians than there is among Americans at large.
There is, however, a reason for this. I don't think that religion and government make good bedfellows. I don't think that religion should be politicized at all. You cannot legislate faith. Likewise, I don't want politics in my religion any more than I want religion in my politics. The two should not be as one. Give unto Caesar that which belongs to Caesar. To the best of my knowledge, God does not have a party affiliation. I think most progressive Christians tend to share this belief, hence their political abscence. Nonetheless, sometimes politics and religion do commingle. Willingly or not, the church must periodically struggle with political issues. And this has been very much the case with the Episcopal church lately.
I felt lost in the church I grew up in. I spent several years as a self-identified atheist, largely due to my perception of Christians. I never trusted organized religion (and still remain suspicious of it), and never thought that I would again join a church. But in the Episcopal church--particularly the California Episcopal church--I found a home. I found like-minded people who also felt that the most important teachings of Christ were those of compassion, love, and forgiveness. In our little church in the Haight, we have a gay priest, a multi-racial congregation, a substantial number of homeless and impoverished parishioners, and a bountiful spiritual life.
This weekend, I heard the most powerful sermon I've ever heard in my life, one that literally reduced me to tears. It was a beautiful and impassioned speech, yet managed to avoid directly advocating a viewpoint. Instead, it speaks to the importance of approaching God with humility, and delves into the history of the church and how its beliefs have changed over time (citing slavery, anti-semitism, and the crusades as examples of events in our past for which we found biblical support). The sermon marked one of those rare moments in my life when I seemed to actually feel the presence of God, and felt my relationship undergo a redefinition. No matter what your convictions, or lack thereof, I urge you to listen to it, as I think it presents a vision of Christianity not often represented.
I don't know pretend to know where God stands on homosexuality. It's a matter that doesn't concern me personally, and I'm not about to tell others what God's will is. I do know that in the New Testament, far more attention is paid to other matters. Jesus never addresses homosexuality in the gospels. (He does, however, command Christians quite directly not to judge others, not to commit adultery, to be peacemakers, not to build up wealth on earth, to act charitably, and to always forgive others, even our enemies.) Although many Christians interpret some of Paul's letters as condemning homosexuality, you really have to look to the Old Testament in Leviticus 18: 22-23 for that sort of thing. In Leviticus 19 we are commanded not to put any marks upon our skin, yet there is no debate over tattooed priests (as was the priest who married us). In Leviticus 20:9-10, we are told that adulterers should be put to death, as should children who curse their parents. If you believe in Biblical literalism, it seems to me that this demands an all or none approach.
The Old Testament commands death for quite a few things. Keeping all of its laws is practically impossible. However, the essence of Christianity is forgiveness. In the end, this is what it all comes down to; Christians take as a matter of faith that Christ died for their sins. We take it as a matter of faith that--to quote the President, we are all sinners. A lot of people, myself included, took umbrage with that remark. But I don't know that I did for the same reasons as others, as I agree with the statement. We are all sinners. What I didn't like was the implication behind the statement. Is homosexuality a sin? Like I said, I'm not going to pretend to know the will of God. What I do know is that my faith tells me that we are all forgiven for our sins, no matter what they are. Therefore even if you believe another Christian is a sinner, you must also believe that s/he is forgiven for those sins (and thus, not a sinner).
I'm a progressive Christian, and I see no contradiction in that. In fact, I often feel my politics are driven by religion. Yet I recognize that I may well be wrong. What would Jesus do, indeed? Although you usually hear that phrase used as an answer, it remains very much a question open to individual interpretation.
I'm not going to argue religion with anyone. You won't change my mind, and odds are I'm not going to change yours. But if you do feel like grinding an axe, telling me how wrong I am--either for believing in Christ or believing that he didn't command me to condemn homosexuals--feel free to knock yourself out below.
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