An Invitation to Parents & Guardians
A reflection from Pastor Mike Roth on why raising kids in a community like Pearl is truly good for their development, a few challenges, and an invitation to participate with Pearl Church in creating rhythms that give meaningful shape to your family’s life.
a letter from Mike Roth
Dear Pearl Parents & Guardians,
Every August, our Oversight Team members take a Sunday to share their hearts for Pearl. As I considered what I wanted to share this year, I kept coming back to kids and youth. In particular, I wanted to share my hope to provide a safe place where kids and youth can be positively shaped by the kind of Christian life that we’re nurturing at Pearl. But then I wondered, is Pearl that kind of place? This question led me to ask my eldest son, Asher, if he had any interest in joining me upfront on a Sunday to talk about his life at Pearl. My thinking was, he should know how Pearl is shaping kids because he’s spent his entire 19 years of life at Pearl. In all transparency, when I asked him if he had any interest in doing this I was expecting a hearty, “No way!” To my delight I was shocked by his response: “I’d love to; I love Pearl.” You can listen to the entirety of our conversation here, but in short, Asher explained that his life-long participation at Pearl, especially his exposure to the embodiment of Pearl’s values in the lives of people at Pearl, has given shape to who he is today, for which he is truly thankful.
Spending time reflecting on my conversation with Asher, a theoretical idea that I have been pondering about the importance of participation in a religious community has bloomed into something that now looks more like excitement and conviction. This beautiful community that we’re a part of is truly good for the development of kids and youth.
A Few Thoughts
Here are a few thoughts on why I think that is…
First, religion exists to hold people together, which is really important for human flourishing. The word “religion” comes from the Latin word religare. Religare is a combination of two Latin words: re for “back” and ligare for “to bind.” To bind together. This is a primary purpose of religion: to help hold humans, individually and collectively, together. According to Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, this binding together is a unique result of religion because, “Religion teaches us that we are part of the whole, a thread in the fabric of God’s creation, a note in the symphony of life” (The Great Partnership). To help hold us in this wholeness, religion has age-old mechanisms that have stood the test of time such as regular gatherings; praying, singing, and reciting liturgy together; a calendar year marked by seasons and feasts; ongoing discussion around a sacred text; meal sharing; acts of service; etc. It’s these aspects of religious life that function as glue, which binds us together in communal life.
Second, these various aspects of religious life that I have just mentioned not only hold us together but they help us to understand the world and our place in it. Now, as a Christian parent at Pearl you may be wondering, “Is Christianity the best religious experience for raising my child?” It’s an important question. As a church committed to being deeply, yet humbly, Christian, we highly regard every religious tradition that evokes human flourishing. It’s true, many religious traditions exist that could benefit your family. Yet, I’m realizing that what is more important than finding the best religious experience for raising a child is, simply the presence of religious life. Richard Rohr explains it well in his classic book, Falling Upward:
… the task of the first half of life is to create a proper container for one’s life and answer the first essential questions: “What makes me significant?” “How can I support myself?” And “Who will go with me?” The task of the second half of life is, quite simply, to find the actual contents that this container was meant to hold and deliver.
Applying this thought to parenting, children benefit from being given a religious container to answer fundamental questions about life. Then, after growing up, they will go on the necessary developmental journey of discerning their own adult answers to essential questions about life. It’s possible that as an adult, the Christian answers they grew up with will become their own. It’s also possible that as an adult, they find different answers that work better for them. The gift that we’re able to give our children now is not perfect answers to fundamental questions that will work for their entire lives. Rather, the gift is giving our children a container with good answers that work for now and can be wrestled with, in their own unique and individualized way, later.
A final reason for why I think participation in religious life is important for kids and youth is religion’s focus on nurturing spirituality. The word “spiritual” refers to the non-material and non-physical aspects of our human existence. For example, awe, wonder, gratitude, mercy, forgiveness, and the development of character and convictions. These spiritual aspects of human existence are significant and they need ongoing attention to become a meaningful part of our humanity. Unfortunately, the nurturing of spirituality is tragically neglected in many of our human experiences. In the book Build the Life You Want, Arthur Brooks applies scientific findings to explain human happiness. In a chapter on faith his findings support the importance of intentional spirituality, “… spiritual experiences have a deep scientific basis to them, and transcendental experiences provide us with important information about life we cannot get in any other way. Getting these experiences, however, takes effort and commitment.” At Pearl, we want to partner with you in nurturing the spiritual aspects of life, which is, truly, a good gift that we can give to our children.
A Few Challenges
Today we parents face an unholy trinity that makes participation in religious life difficult, which is: post-modernity, post-pandemic, and post-Christianity. To be clear, I’m not against post-modernity. I am very much a product of post-modernity and I have benefited from its criticism of thoughts and structures. However, like any other cultural development, post-modernity has its deficits. A primary deficit is its inability to re-construct thoughts and structures in a timely manner to fill the void of that which it tears down.
The second “person” of this unholy trinity could be called “post-pandemic.” During the pandemic we lost almost all structure. Many adults stopped going to work, many kids stopped going to school, and most of our social commitments came to a screeching halt. For a while, many of us felt relief. The pandemic helped us to realize that we were going too fast and attempting too much. However, we have also come to realize that we desperately need some structure and commitments to prosper. As we are transitioning out of the pandemic, the overwhelm of structures and commitments established by employers and those in charge of kids’ activities leaves little room for parents to ask invaluable questions such as: After school and work, what do we want our evenings and weekends to look like? Out of all the opportunities available to us, which opportunities can help us to create rhythms that cultivate flourishing?
The final “person” of this unholy trinity is post-Christianity. Many people today do not see value in religious life. Of course, parents who attend Pearl are not post-Christian. Pearl parents are more likely, cautiously Christian. In other words, Christians who are pondering the goodness and use of an intentionally Christian life. The result of this, especially as it’s impacted by post-modernity and post-pandemic, has the effect of limited participation or every once in a while participation at church.
A Few Invitations
Outside of this unholy trinity is our Christian mystery of Trinity. This mystery gestures toward the gift of loving relationship, and it invites us to deepen into life together. Life together. That’s what I want to invite you into more deeply.
As we head into this new school year I warmly invite you into more regular participation at Pearl. To be clear, I am not hoping for or expecting perfect attendance. Rather, I want to invite you into participation that is regular enough to allow Pearl to truly be a partner with you in creating rhythms that give meaningful shape to your family’s life.
Over the course of this new school year we are trying to better support parents in the following ways:
Childcare for most of our after-church offerings.
Educational Evenings and Book Discussions that are intentional to support you in your rearing of kids.
Throughout the school year we will have a couple Home Groups that are intentionally kid-friendly so that parents can join and connect.
Throughout each Home Group term we plan to provide a Parent Connect on Saturday mornings for parents and kids to spend time together.
I warmly invite you to participate in these offerings.
As we head into this new school year I want to also warmly invite you to volunteer in our kids and youth offerings. We have amazing coordinators who I am thrilled for your child to regularly engage with. However, having parent involvement not only lightens our coordinators’ work but it also communicates to our children an important truth: A tribe of humans exist at Pearl who care about you very much. This was one of the most meaningful lessons that my son Asher absorbed during his years at Pearl, which meant a lot to him. Involvement also helps you as a parent to see first hand what your child’s experience is like and we value your feedback.
A Few Commitments
Of course, if you’re going to make an effort to consistently participate in something as a family, it’s important that the thing you participate in is truly good. In this section I want to make a few commitments to you about Pearl Church.
Our Rhythms
Pearl Church is committed to to intentionally cultivating three rhythms, which could also be called “containers for meaning,” that will help your child to answer some of their most essential questions about life:
Being shaped by a sacred story: The scriptures tell a story about a benevolent Creator who is wooing creation out of chaos and into abounding life. According to this story, this generous and self-giving Creator is embodied in Jesus, whose life, death, and resurrection reveal the way of God’s lovingkindness in the world. As a community rooted in Christianity, this sacred story casts our vision—it shapes our language, orients our hearts, and directs the ways that we mark our days and live out our lives here on earth.
Sharing together at a common table: Near the pinnacle of our sacred story is a scene in which Jesus gathers his disciples around a table. At this table are both followers and betrayers, yet Jesus shares a meal with them all. He breaks bread and pours wine and says, “This is me, for you.” Sharing at a common table reminds us that God sustains everything, includes everyone, and is drawing us all together to feast as one. It facilitates a way of living that recognizes God’s sustenance, makes room for others, and urges us toward generosity and self-giving.
Being animated by divine love: Shaped by a sacred story and sharing at a common table, we are awakening to God, who is love. As we awaken to divine love, we grow and are transformed—for this love evokes human flourishing. Love frees us to create, to forgive, and to participate in the sacred work of cultivating life in this world. Love animates generous living, proclaims news that is truly good, and culminates in God’s dream of peace in a world integrated by divine love.
Our Values
Pearl Church is committed to cultivating these rhythms in accordance with values that we believe to be truly good:
Equity: Jesus’ way of love subverted stigmas and opened access in his day—access to community, daily bread, healing, justice, and even God’s own self. We therefore value equity. We grieve unfairness and barriers in our society and in our own body. We seek to upend, re-envision, and reconstruct systems in order to help foster voice, volition, and access.
Gratitude: Jesus lived life in surrender and gratitude before the one in whom he moved and breathed and had his being. We therefore value this posture of living—in humble surrender and joyful gratitude before the ground of our being.
Inclusion: Jesus crossed all kinds of borders and barriers, especially to include the outcast and irreligious. We therefore value making room to include a diversity of backgrounds, views, and convictions, and especially those who are marginalized.
Integration: Jesus was present to every person and every moment—from the innocent to the unnoticed, from the wilderness to the cross. He knew that even the outcast, even shadows, have a place. We therefore value embracing every person and engaging every moment, trusting that everything belongs.
Peace: Through generous life and sacrificial death, Jesus revealed a way of being in the world that culminates in the end of violence, brokenness, and suffering. We therefore value all that promotes peace in every form—personal, interpersonal, national, global, even cosmic.
Renewal: Jesus facilitated renewal through acts of justice, mercy, healing, and love. This renewal is personal—it is also relational, societal, and ecological. We therefore value renewing, because renewal of any kind is participation with God, who is making all things new.
Transformation: Jesus opened the eyes of the blind, raised the dead to life, and spoke of being born anew. He exhorted all to grow, and his death and rising embodies the pattern of God’s transformational activity in the world. We therefore value awakening, transforming, and becoming truly living beings.
Our Non-Violent Theology
Pearl Church is committed to non-violent and non-dominion theology. Our safety policy includes a statement about our approach to theology for children, which explains:
The stories that we tell and the lessons that we provide emphasize God’s love and inclusion for every part of every person. We believe that children—no matter their age or belief—belong to God and are held by God. We are intentional to avoid any form of violence in our stories and lessons, including violence found within the Bible.
Our Pedagogy
Pearl Church is committed to developmentally appropriate pedagogy for children. About our approach, our statement on pedagogy explains:
Pearl Church exists to express a sacred story and to extend a common table that animate life by love. This statement actually names our pedagogy for adults. I.e.: The loving story that we express and the inclusive table that we extend, animate our lives, by love. However, when it comes to kids, our pedagogy is necessarily reversed. We begin with experiences of love, move onto encounters of inclusion, so that by the time our children begin to sincerely engage the scriptures, their experiences of love and encounters with inclusion function as a lens through which they begin to interpret and make meaning of our sacred text. With this context in mind…
Toddlers & Preschoolers (2-3 years old), Coordinated by Heather Griffin
Developmentally speaking, children 2-3 years old are most deeply shaped by their experiences. Our pedagogy for this age-group therefore emphasizes ongoing experiences of Divine Love. In every story told, song sung, game played, and volunteer interaction, we intend for our toddlers and preschoolers to intentionally experience expressions of love.
Elementary (4-11 years old), Coordinated by Drew Andrews
Developmentally speaking, children 4-11 years old are most deeply shaped by their encounters. As our children age-out of the toddler/preschool class, our pedagogy for this age-group emphasizes ongoing encounters of common table. In every story told, song sung, game played, and volunteer interaction, we intend for our elementary children to intentionally encounter their own belonging as well as the belonging of “the other,” whoever that happens to be.
Youth (12-18 years old), Coordinated by Kylie Marble
Developmentally speaking, children 12-18 years old begin to transition from valuing concrete experiences and encounters to valuing abstract ideas. Having experienced love and having encountered inclusion over the course of their lives at Pearl, our pedagogy for this age-group begins to sincerely engage our sacred story. This story, however, is not simply read and discussed. Rather, it is interpreted through our youths’ deep knowing of love and inclusion, which function as a lens to discern the heart and pleasure of God, for today.
Thank you for taking the time to read this letter. It’s my sincere hope that our shared life together supports your family’s flourishing for years to come.
With Much Care & Love,
Mike Roth, Ph.D. (he/him/his)
Theologian & Pastor–Pearl Church
Systemic Complicity
This article, from Pastor Mike’s personal website, explores the ways the stories told in Western Christianity lead to religious extremism, and suggests a path for bold changes that build up a faith that, instead, nurtures peace.
Once upon a time...
There was a family that believed in God and called Jesus, “Lord.” They regularly attended church and the Bible was their sacred text. During their time at church the family listened to pastors and Sunday school teachers expound on passages from the Bible and at home they talked together about Bible stories.
One of the family’s favorite Bible stories, in John 14, tells about a conversation that Jesus had with his disciples. In the story, Jesus explains that his Father’s house has many rooms and that he is going there to prepare a place for his followers. This story always led to an imaginative conversation in which the family dreamed about Jesus’ heavenly house. Samantha, twelve years old and two years older than Chloe, would say, “The rooms are enormous and the one with my name on the door is filled with comfy pillows and it has an ice cream Sunday bar!” Chloe would then say, “The room with my name on the door is filled with all of the dolls that I’ve ever wanted and it has its own bathroom with a bathtub so big that an elephant could sleep in it!” This always made the parents laugh. The mom would say, “Your dad and I will be happy just knowing that you’re in the house.” And the dad, usually quiet, would wipe tears from his eyes.
One evening, as the parents were in the girls’ room tucking them into their beds, Chloe asked, “Mom, dad, how can we be sure that we get into Jesus’ house so that we can all be together?” The mom said, “Well that’s very simple, Chloe, all you need to do is to ask Jesus into your heart.” Chloe sighed with relief saying, “We’ve already done that!” To which the mom affirmed, “Yes you have dear. So rest in peace.” At this, the dad noticed that Samantha’s face was wrinkled up, deep in thought. He asked, “Samantha, what are you thinking about?” She said, “What will happen to our cousins and friends and neighbors who don’t ask Jesus into their hearts?” With a very serious and very sad face the mom replied, “Oh Samantha, those people won’t go to heaven.” Chloe, always effervescent, cried out, “Then where will they go when they die?” The mom and dad looked at each other with that knowing look, nodding together in agreement that now was the time. The dad cleared his throat and very quietly spoke, “Honey, anyone who doesn’t trust in Jesus will go to a place called “hell.” “Hell!” Chloe exclaimed. The mom said, “Hell is a dark place. It’s a sad place. And it’s a place that a person goes to forever.”
Ten years later...
The Easter service had been dazzling—the flowering cross, everyone dressed up in their Sunday best, flower arrangements stationed throughout the sanctuary, plentiful as manna, and the sermon in which the pastor declared, “Christ is risen!” as the people enthusiastically responded, “He is risen indeed!”
Back at home the mom placed a roast on the table laden with sparkling juice, green beans, buttered rolls, tossed salad, and cubed potatoes. The three of them took their seats. They held hands and the dad prayed, “God, thank you for this day that remembers Jesus’ resurrection. Thank you that our place in heaven is secure. We ask once again, with our whole hearts, that you would be with Samantha, wherever she is. We miss her being in our lives, so much. We know that she thinks that she is following you. We know that she thinks that she is saving the world by being part of that group. But please. Please help her to see that she’s part of a cult. Help her to see that leaving everything that she knows—her family, her friends, her work, her whole life—is not your desire or your plan. Amen.” At this, the dad, mom, and Chloe looked at each other, shared a pained smile, squeezed each other’s hands, and began to eat their Easter brunch.
Systemic Complicity
The family is convinced that Samantha has lost her way by joining an apocalyptic commune to proclaim that the end of this world is very near and to choose Jesus, or else. But has she really lost her way? Her parents were very clear, remember? “Honey, anyone who doesn’t trust in Jesus will go to a place called hell.” Is it possible that Samantha believes that which she was told about heaven and hell more deeply and more fervently than the people who told her this “truth?” And how about a husband who tells his wife, “Shut up! Listen to me. I’m the head of this house.” Is it possible that he more deeply and fervently believes that which he is told about wives submitting to their husbands in a church where only men speak and lead? Or how about a group of teenagers who mock and jeer at a trans-woman, calling her a “monstrosity” and “ungodly?” Is it possible that they more deeply and fervently believe that which they are told about LGBTQ people and culture in a church where only straight people can serve, become members, and hold leadership positions? Or how about a man who shoots up a mosque and decimates a non-Christian faith community? Is it possible that he believes more deeply and fervently—than even Samantha—that every person who does not trust in Jesus will go to a place called hell, forever?
It is more than possible. Religious extremism is not ex nihilo. Extremism is rooted in the stories that we tell and in the systems in which we participate. If we perpetuate stories and participate in systems that—at their very essence—are gendered, homophobic, or exclusive, then we are culpable when the result is misogynistic, bigoted, or violent behavior. You see, the problem is not him, her, or them. The problem is us because it’s directly related to the religious stories that we tell and to the religious systems in which we participate. Yes, I get it. You would never do such a thing. But to be clear, it isn’t because you are a more descent human being. In most cases it is because you don’t believe in the religious stories or systems that you exist within, as deeply and as fervently as others.
My point here is not to blame. My point here is to rouse realization. Stories and systems give shape to beliefs, values, and behavior. And when we perpetuate stories or participate in systems that are gendered, homophobic, or exclusive, then we are complicit when a person behaves in a way that more deeply and fervently embodies the essence of our stories and systems.
A Bible Problem
A possible retort to this logic could be: “Our stories and systems come from the Bible!” For me, a statement like that raises two questions. First, are gendered, homophobic, and exclusive stories and systems reasonable? Before answering, remember that “reasonable” is an adjective that describes sensible, rational, common sense. With this in mind, is it reasonable to think that men have inherent authority over women? Is it reasonable to think that sexual orientation and attraction is always and only, distinctly gender binary? Is it reasonable to think that billions of people who do not believe in Jesus will go to a place called hell, forever?
It’s possible that your answer may be something like, “Well, if it weren’t for what the Bible says, then these stories and systems may not be reasonable. But the Bible is clear.” And this brings me to a second question, which is, what exactly is the Bible? If you’re reading this reflection and thinking, “If it weren’t for what the Bible says, then these stories and systems may not be reasonable.” then you’re probably a person who thinks of the Bible as inerrant and you very likely attempt to read the Bible literally. However, this is a very modern, very western, very white, and very masculine way of understanding the Bible. For a deeper dive into the Bible take a moment to read this reflection on a more ancient way to think about it. In short, there is a historically supported and theologically sensible way of reading the Bible that invites us to wrestle with scripture, in community with others, with sensitivity to human consciousness, in order to discern goodness for today.
Faithfully reading the Bible does not mean that you must exist in violent story telling and religious systems. Much the opposite, in fact. The Bible leads us to Jesus who invites his followers to subvert stories and systems that harm, entrap, exclude, and dehumanize others, especially the marginalized among us.
Bold Change
As I write this reflection we’re in the midst of a world-wide pandemic and our country is in upheaval over the abhorrent abuse and murder of black men by white men who are in power. And so, we willingly quarantine, we give to organizations making a difference, we vote and write letters to government, and when possible, we march, hold hands, and scream. But as Christians living in this world in 2020, we can do more. We can recognize that our Christian stories and systems have very real impact. We can choose to say “no” to stories and systems that are gendered, homophobic, and exclusive. We can demand better from our Christian leaders and if they won’t listen, we can take practical steps to ensure that we are no longer complicit in the fruit that their stories and systems yield. Will you join me in choosing bold change?
Here are a few suggestions for how you can practically participate in bold change:
Learn about your church’s structure, dogma, and doctrine.
If your church’s structure, dogma, and doctrine are gendered, homophobic, or exclusive, write a letter to your pastor or board to express your concern and disagreement.
If your pastor or board is unwilling to consider change, talk to others in your community and ask them to write letters to express their concern and disagreement.
If your pastor or board is still unwilling to consider change, then stop giving. No longer support a community’s systemic complicity.
If your pastor or board is still unwilling to consider change, talk to others in your community and ask them to stop giving. Choose together to no longer support a community’s systemic complicity.
If your pastor or board is still unwilling to consider change, find another faith community. A whole host of non-violent, wonderfully inclusive Christian communities exist for you to explore and to join. Here’s a link to a helpful organization that exists to clarify church policies.
Lastly, consider pointing people to this reflection on social media as a way to raise awareness and to encourage honest conversation about the churches we choose to call “home.”
Anthropology of Creativity
This article by Pastor Ben Conachan explores a vision of being human focused on joining God in creative goodness.
I want to invite you to think of a time that you were captivated by something really wonderful, something that sparked your imagination, called to you and made you think: I want to be part of that.
Maybe it was an extraordinary meal that stirred your interest in cooking;
a work of music that made you long to play the piano or sing;
a sport you found challenging in just the right way that made you come alive;
a spreadsheet formula that elegantly solved your mathematic problem.
Whatever it was, it seemed to magnetically pull your interest. Got it?
What is it like to remember that magnetic call? Nostalgic? Sweet? Maybe a bit wistful?
When I was in the second grade, we had a book-a-thon and, for reading a certain number of pages, I was allowed to make a personalized plaque out of plaster and paint it. It could say anything I want, and I chose, in big second grade handwriting: “Books are my life.” I guess I knew really young that I was going to need to invest in bookshelves. Books endlessly stirred my curiosity, and set me on a path.
To talk about what it means to be human, what it means to bear the Divine Image, we have to start with Goodness, with the magnetic pull of creativity that we’ve all experienced.
You see, for centuries, the church has had an anthropology—a theory of what it means to be human—which focuses on sin and failure. Let’s call it an anthropology of wretchedness. Humans are sunk in sin, lost, and the main Biblical drama is: how will God save humanity from our deserved condemnation?
But there is an alternate anthropology: humans are created by God for Goodness, designed with the capacity of creativity. When we say humanity bears the divine image, we mean that we share in God’s overflowing creativity, that we are made for partnership in what God is doing—hovering over chaos to bring forth life.
These two anthropologies lead to very different ideas of salvation.
The first anthropology of wretchedness poses our problem as a matter of atonement for sin, and the metaphors are all legal. To be saved is to be pardoned for our offenses.
The second—let’s call it an anthropology of creativity—poses our human problem as one of finding our way toward our capacity for goodness. Given that humans are made by God for creativity, what enables us to pursue that goodness, and what hinders us? Why is it that we so often get mired down and turned away from what is good? What can we do to join God in creative goodness?
The Eastern churches have tended to stay closer to the second anthropology, and out of the Eastern church comes a model for unfolding our capacity to join God in creative goodness: Katharsis, Fotosis, Theosis.
Katharsis - purging, cleansing.
Fotosis - basking in light.
Theosis - union with God.
To set the stage for these three moves and their picture of human development with God, I like to use a metaphor:
You have a piece of property at the ocean (what luck!) with a cliff overlooking the sea. The bluff has grown over with brambles and brush, but you clear it away, cutting out weeds and transplanting good plants, and create space for a wooden bench. And then, having cleared space, you go out each morning to sit and wait for the sun to rise.
Katharsis
Katharsis is the first movement of that metaphor: pursing, cleansing. It is our initial response to the call of the Good.
The only reason to pull out your hedge trimmers and gloves and start pulling weeds on your coastal bluff, is because you are stirred with the idea, magnetically pulled by the appeal of making room for the beauty of the sunrise.
We humans, being made for goodness, sooner or later become captivated by something wonderful, moved by something we want to be a part of—a trade, a craft, a vocation, a social cause. But that magnetic call lands on a person whose capacities are as yet undeveloped. You’re inspired to play the piano, but you can’t right away play music. You’re captured by the need for racial justice, but you have no idea what to do. You love the idea of painting but have never sketched or held a brush.
So the task of Katharsis is to make room, to prepare us to move in a new direction. It is the work of discernment: what creative good is moving me in this season? What helps me move toward that good, and what hinders me from moving toward that good?
On an anthropology of wretchedness, “purging” is about identifying what you are doing wrong and stopping it. We are convicted of sin, and so we work to cut out ungodly behaviors.
But on an anthropology of creativity, our question is: what enables and what hinders your response to move toward creative good? This may involve setting aside things that are harmful; but usually we also must make room for creativity by setting aside things that are also good, different goods, goods that don’t lead where we want to go. We can only do so much, after all.
The other thing about Katharsis is that it will always be a personal response to a particular calling, and to your individual situation.
Here’s what I mean. On an anthropology of wretchedness, where the big problem is stopping sinning, we can universalize very easily: holiness is doing X, Y, and Z and it is not doing A, B and C. So, are you doing A, B or C? Then stop it.
But if I am moved with a vision of learning to play the piano and creating beautiful music, that inspiration will require me to ask particular questions about my life and reorder my priorities toward that goal—priorities that would make no sense if your calling is to baking, or to architecture, or to computer science, or to ballroom dancing. All these many goods will require us to ask questions of discernment which have to be answered afresh by each of us, for our situation:
What in my life is sparking desire, capturing interest, beckoning me to contribute my energy toward creating something good?
What in my life already presents opportunities for growing toward that goodness?
What in my life might be hindering me from moving toward that goodness?
If I, responding to a longing to be a writer, make the decision to clear out time each day to read, to jot notes, to sit at my desk and write, and not to get on the internet before I’ve written so that I can hear myself think—well, those commitments may or may not have anything to do with your movement toward creativity.
My point here is that, if Katharsis is a move of cutting out brambles and thorns and clearing space, that is less because we are terrible wretches caught up in sin, and more because responding to God’s invitation toward creative goodness will always mean discerning how to order our lives to make room for our vocation.
Fotosis
In our metaphor, once we’ve cleared away the brambles and thorns and opened a space to see the horizon, we can then put in a bench and, each morning, day after day, go sit and wait for the sun to rise. Some days may be cloudy and fog-bound, others clear and promising, but we make it part of our habit to go and sit each day.
This is the movement of Fotosis—making habits that allow us to bask in the light of the good that moves us, so we can become intimately familiar with our craft. Fotosis is the stage where, having made room, we now become apprentices, responding to the the realities of the good we are pursuing.
In his book The Contemplative Pastor, Eugene Peterson shares about helping as a young man in his father’s butcher shop, where he learned to submit himself to the authority of the cut of meat before him:
Carving a quarter of beef into roasts and steaks was not a matter of imposing my knife-fortified will on dumb matter, but respectfully and reverently entering into the reality of the material. “Hackers” was my father’s contemptuous label for butchers who ignorantly imposed their wills on the meat… The results were unattractive and uneconomical… Real work always includes a respect for the material at hand.
Just as a quarter of beef has grains and sinews—realities which must be understood in order to carve a perfect steak—so all the various kinds of good things that move us also demand apprenticeship to learn their ways. Carpenters learn to respect the wood and their tools; the mathematician learns the nature of logic and numbers and expressions; the parent watches closely to understand and respond to the unfolding personality of their child.
This is what spiritual practices, routines, habits are all about: positioning us squarely to observe, take in, learn the realities before us so we can respond appropriately, so we can grow our capacity to get in on the craft.
On a wretchedness anthropology, practices are either (a) things we must do to curb our inclination toward sin, or (b) practices are useless since all human endeavor is wretched anyway.
But on a creativity anthropology, practices are apprenticeship. They are not impressive, not meritorious—they are simply the way we pick up on the material at hand for doing good.
In his letter to the Philippian church, Paul counseled:
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.
This is Fotosis: That lovely, true, admirable goodness which captures your interest? Think about it. Think about it deeply. Make habits and routines and practices which have you interacting with that goodness, learning its ways.
Listen to favorite music pieces. Read books and articles, listen to podcasts about the topic. Find masters in the art and learn from them. Watch YouTube videos. These are all practices of attending.
Play scales. Practice carving wood and learning how it responds. Shoot hoops and run drills. Write drafts, one after another. These are practices of embodying.
Run a bit further. Stay with mystery. Rethink the situation. Sit in silence. Look again. These are all practices for increasing endurance.
Whatever good draws us, we clear room for it in our lives (Katharsis) and we bask in its light, become students of it, practicing and practicing to increase our capacity for that creative goodness (Fotosis).
Theosis
Finally, Theosis.
Having cut away the brambles, having set out a bench, having made our habit of going out each morning to watch for the sunrise—well, we still cannot make the sun rise. That’s not our part. And we can’t prevent a foggy morning or chilly rain, and we can’t help it if we get sick and can’t go out one morning or another.
But, sometimes—maybe even often—the sky will be clear and the water still and the birds chirruping and the sun will gently ease itself over the horizon and we will bask in its beauty and shiver with delight.
Theosis is what the Eastern church calls a state of union with God, where we have moved into creative partnership with God in what God is doing. God, creator—God hovering over the waters calling goodness out of chaos.
Another word for theosis, I think, is play. It is the moment when all the making room and practicing and habit and routine seems to drop away and you are left with the simple delight of creating, so that is is just play - play with God. Another Greek word: perichoresis, a turning dance, the Triune dance, into which you suddenly find yourself beckoned and the good you have sought flows out of you.
This is the biggest difference between our two anthropologies: an anthropology of wretchedness seems, at best, to aim for “not sinning” and worshipping God for his gift of grace—fine, those are not bad things. But the anthropology of creativity aims at play, the delightful freedom of capacity to bring about goodness.
After rehearsing and rehearsing, simply to release your body into dance or song. After scales and practicing, simply to allow your fingers to move and make beautiful music. After studying and memorizing and writing and passing accreditations, to practice law or psychology or medicine, to write code and create programs that are elegant and effective.
These states of productivity are sometimes called “flow”, but I would suggest they are Theosis, when we are caught up in a taste of God’s delighted joy in creative goodness.
The mystery of Theosis is that it is always gift and yet we always have actively participated in it. That “aha” moment, that effortless dance, that breakthrough in therapy, that sweet deep relationship: all these moments feel, to us, full to the brim of gift, beyond what we could have expected to manage on our own. And, all of them come about because we have slowly and over years invested our energy into becoming the sort of people who are present when the moment arrives.
It isn’t easy to capture Theosis in words. These moments of transcendence are so palpably good and yet hard to name. Perhaps one of my favorite descriptions comes from the novel Gilead by Marilynne Robinson:
There was a young couple strolling along half a block ahead of me. The sun had come up brilliantly after a heavy rain, and the trees were glistening and very wet. On some impulse, plain exuberance, I suppose, the fellow jumped up and caught hold of a branch, and a storm of luminous water came pouring down on the two of them, and they laughed and took off running, the girl sweeping water off her hair and her dress as if she were a little bit disgusted, but she wasn’t. It was a beautiful thing to see, like something from a myth. I don’t know why I thought of that now, except perhaps because it is easy to believe in such moments that water was made primarily for blessing, and only secondarily for growing vegetables or doing the wash. … This is an interesting planet. It deserves all the attention you can give it.
Theosis—the ability to join in on what God is doing—surely, if nothing else, includes the ability to stop and be struck with the beauty of laughter, the beauty of water cascading from a tree, the beauty of human playfulness.
This is an interesting planet. It deserves all the attention you can give it. And all the creativity we can give it.
As we individually are enraptured by goodness—which is, always, the creative goodness of God—we are invited to clear room, to become students and apprentices basking in the reality of that goodness, learning its ways, and then, over time, to grow our capacity to delight in doing good in all of our many, unique, personal ways.
An anthropology of creativity says that you are made for and capable of joining God in goodness, and that the aim of salvation is playful creativity. So you’re encouraged and invited to pay attention to what captures your imagination and interest, discern what moves you toward that good, enroll as an apprentice and dedicate practice to expanding the capacity, and above all to watch for moments of play.
This is most what what world needs from you: your delightful, creative, good playfulness. Whether you love to bake, to write, to solve equations, to increase the efficiency of workflows, to teach, to raise children, to sit and listen to those who are struggling, to paint, to run, to throw parties, to walk in nature and hunt for mushrooms—whatever goodness sparks your interest and curiosity—that is the place where, beholding the glory of the Lord we are being transformed, from one degree of glory to another, into a people who more and more delight in our creative partnership with God.
Christian Captivity in Paul's Atonement
This article from Pastor Mike’s personal blog explores the movement of our understanding of atonement in conversation with Black Theology.
This reflection expounds on a primary focus within black theology—liberation—and it urges western christians to make an exodus out of their captivity in Paul’s atonement in order to participate in an atonement that flows with milk and honey.
To begin, a primary focus within black theology is liberation.
Liberation by a God,
who reveals solidarity with the oppressed,
in Jesus.
This definition is central to black theology’s understanding of atonement. Now, atonement—put simply—refers to a reconciled state between two parties that were formally alienated. And within christian perspective, atonement is accomplished through the death and resurrection of Jesus.
I realize that this language is heavily theological but please stick with me because it’s really important, especially for western christians held captive by Paul’s primary focus on atonement.
A White Gospel, Suspicious of Liberation
I attended a conservative, primarily white, evangelical seminary in the late 90s and early 2000s. While at seminary, I was repeatedly warned about the grave danger of black theology. To be clear, nobody said, “Be warned about black theology.” It was much more subtle than that. Instead, I was exhorted, “Be very cautious about ‘liberation theology.’” The reasoning was, “biblical.”
The expanded version went something like this: Be very cautious about liberation theology because its focus on liberation and hope in the midst of suffering—although important and necessary—aren’t central to the gospel.
According to my seminary training and white, conservative theology, “Central to the gospel” is the shedding of Jesus’ blood on a cross, which is necessary for God to forgive humans of their sins.
Believe this gospel and go to heaven.
Fail to believe this gospel and go to hell.
Now, I’m going to split a theological hair here and you may want to roll your eyes at its seeming meaninglessness. But if you stick with me, I believe this will begin to make important sense and have deep relevance for life, today.
Believing in the the shedding of Jesus’ blood on a cross as necessary for God’s forgiveness can be gospel. But technically speaking, this is a theological statement about atonement.
A Brief Explanation on Gospel as Good News
Gospel, put simply, is the declaration of good news. That’s why Jesus walks into the synagogue in Luke chapter 4 and reads, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news”—from the Greek, euagellion, literally, gospel.
And what is the good news; what is the gospel, according to Jesus? Well, Jesus is very clear. It’s:
Freedom from bondage,
healing for the sick,
release for the oppressed,
and the proclamation of God’s favor on everyone.
According to Jesus, that’s gospel. It’s gospel, you see, because it’s truly good news. Think about it. If you’re in bondage and suddenly freed. Or if you’re sick and suddenly healed. Or if you’re oppressed and suddenly released. Or if you’re unfavored and suddenly favored. That is always—in every circumstance and generation—good news.
Over the years I’ve come to find this to be a very helpful way to think about the gospel of Jesus: The gospel of Jesus is actually, honestly, reasonably, and truly, good news.
A Brief Explanation on Atonement
“Well that sounds real nice Mike, but what about Jesus, the cross, and the shedding of blood?” Excellent question. When we ask that question, we’re deep in the theological world of atonement. As previously mentioned, christian atonement is the meaning-making of Jesus’ death and resurrection in order to reconcile estranged parties.
A Brief Explanation on Paul’s Atonement as Good News
Here’s where things begin to get real interesting. Which New Testament author wrote the most about the meaning of Jesus’ shed blood on the cross, which brings about the forgiveness for sins? Answer: Paul.
Paul’s primary understanding of atonement is that Jesus’ shed blood and death on the cross fulfilled the requirements of Israel’s sacrificial system, thereby pleasing God. And ultimately—according to Paul—those who believe in Jesus’ shed blood on the cross receive forgiveness, thereby entering into relationship with God. For Paul, this particular aspect of atonement is good news—that is to say, gospel.
Accommodating for Paul’s Atonement
About this, I’d like us to consider the question, “Why?” Why is an atonement in which those who believe in Jesus’ shed blood on the cross to receive forgiveness, thereby entering into relationship with God, good news for Paul?
Now, depending on your background, you may answer, “Because that’s what God told Paul to write.” Or, you may answer, “Because that’s what the Bible says.” But to be clear, those answers rise from a framework in which the Bible is infallible and inerrent, which is a modern construct for the Bible that is unreasonable and creates a whole bunch of difficulties for christianity today.
To learn more about the problems of infallibility and inerrancy, and to learn more about a wonderfully ancient and historical way of thinking about the Bible, pause from reading this reflection, read a reflection that I wrote titled, Harmonization and Accommodation, and then come back.
Prior to the enlightenment and later generations, words like “infallible” and “inerrent” weren’t really used to describe the Bible. It’s important to remember that the Bible was written by humans who were inspired, but even inspiration could not overcome the biblical authors’ own cultures and contexts. For example, the biblical authors could not conceive of a world in which slavery didn’t exist. Therefore, even though the abolition of slavery is good, just, and accords with the heart of God in whom we all move, breathe, and have our being, the biblical authors never appeal for emancipation. Similarly, the biblical authors could not conceive of a world in which women were equal with men. Therefore, even though gender equality is good, just, and accords with the heart of God in whom we all move, breathe, and have our being, the biblical authors never advocate for it. The list of examples that demonstrate the biblical authors’ cultural and societal limitations goes on and on.
With this in mind, I’d like to ask the same question, again: Why is an atonement in which those who believe in Jesus’ shed blood on the cross to receive forgiveness, thereby entering into relationship with God, good news for Paul?
Answer: Because, before encountering Jesus, Paul was a Pharisee. That is to say, before encountering Jesus, Paul was an expert in the Law. Paul was an expert in the law, with all of its regulations and sacrifices. And so, think with me here. Paul has his vision in which Jesus asks him, “Why are you persecuting me?” Paul then decides to follow after Jesus. But as a good Pharisee—in order to follow after Jesus—Paul has to do some work. Paul has to figure out how Jesus fulfills the regulations and sacrifices that give shape to how he understands the world as a Pharisee. And the end result is Paul’s primary perspective on atonement, which is: Jesus’ shed blood on a cross fulfills the Law; Jesus’ shed blood on a cross is the perfect sacrifice. And this is—for Paul—deeply and pervasively, good news. That is to say, it’s gospel, because it sets Paul free.
Who is Paul’s Focus on Atonement Good for, Today?
With this context in mind there are two types of people today, for whom Paul’s primary expression of atonement is good-news-gospel.
First, Paul’s primary expression of atonement is good-news-gospel for people today who read the Bible and say, “God said it, I believe it.” Even if it means that they have to believe in a God who requires blood—the blood of his own son, in particular—to forgive sins.
These people—because of their post-enlightenment perspective and evangelical view on the Bible—must respond to Paul’s atonement with something like, “I don’t care, sure, maybe it’s weird or seemingly unnecessary or even violent, but God said it and so I believe it.”
A second type of person for whom Paul’s primary expression of atonement is good-news-gospel today is for people who do not need physical freedom, physical healing, physical release, or the experience of societal favor—the gospel according to Jesus in Luke 4.
Thinking in terms of who that person is today, in the United States? It is middle-upper class, straight, white citizens. This is a salient critique by black theology. You see, a theology that’s articulated by people of privilege tends to turn core biblical stories—stories about freedom from bondage, healing the sick, releasing the oppressed, and challenging violent systems of power—into metaphor.
Now, having shifted the focus from liberation here and now to forgiveness and eternal life, privileged theology is able to use biblical language about liberation without lifting a finger to liberate. And of course liberation from oppression is good—but because it’s not central to a privileged gospel, it isn’t central to christian life.
Are you beginning to see some of the connections? Baked into a privileged people reading Paul’s atonement in which belief in Jesus’ shed blood saves sinners:
People of privilege—middle-upper class, straight, white citizens of the United States—only need a spiritual salvation because their lives are already good.
Baked into a privileged people reading Paul’s atonement in which belief in Jesus’ shed blood saves sinners:
People of privilege—middle-upper class, straight, white citizens of the United States—don’t have to help liberate those who are oppressed, because—as they see it—that’s not truly gospel.
And baked into a privileged people reading Paul’s atonement in which belief in Jesus’ shed blood saves sinners:
People of privilege—middle-upper class, straight, white citizens of the United States—are able to maintain center stage, telling everyone around them what they must think and do in order to belong to be saved.
A Privileged Gospel is a Racist Gospel
And this? Well this—among other things—foments a racist gospel.
Remember, “gospel” literally means “good news.” And this particular news that we’ve been discussing is only good for those who see the Bible a certain way or for those who have no physical need for help or liberation. And so, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. wrote in his Letter from Birmingham Jail:
I have heard many ministers say: "Those are social issues, with which the gospel has no real concern." And I have watched many churches commit themselves to a completely other worldly religion which makes a strange, un-Biblical distinction between body and soul, between the sacred and the secular.”
In response to black suffering, white theology has offered forgiveness from sins and relief in heaven; in response to calls for black equality, white church structures have offered integration: you can come where we are, so long as it does not change who we are and how we do things, so long as our values, our language, our culture, our voices are still in control.
And speaking directly to white American theology on atonement and—interestingly enough—to Black churches caught up in white theology, the great black theologian James Cone wrote in his book, The Cross and the Lynching Tree:
I accept Delores William’s rejection of theories of atonement as found in the Western theological tradition and in the uncritical proclamation of the cross in many black churches.
I find nothing redemptive about suffering in itself. The gospel of Jesus is not a rational concept to be explained in a theory of salvation, but a story of God’s presence in Jesus’ solidarity with the oppressed, which led to his death on the cross.
What is redemptive is the faith that God snatches victory out of defeat, life out of death, and hope out of despair, as revealed in the biblical and black proclamation of Jesus’ resurrection.
Perhaps this is a helpful way to think about it. If you were a black child, woman, or man in 19th century United States and you witnessed the lynchings of family or friends or neighbors by white christians who lynched in the name of God and justice, is an atonement explaining that God killed Jesus on a tree in order to forgive sins, good news? Is that a good gospel?
No. It is in fact, horrifying news.
“But Mike, it’s in the Bible!” Yes, and fortunately for we white people it’s good news because our privilege only requires a spiritual salvation. It’s good news for we white people because we don’t live in a country in which our forbearers were captured, chained, shipped, raped, enslaved, and hung on trees.
Not only is it unequivocally violent to demand that a person believe in the goodness of a Divine death penalty in order to be saved, but in light of black lives crying out for the good news of liberation, it is wrong—horrifically wrong—for white people to demand that any marginalized person believe in a gospel that isn’t truly good for their lives or situations.
What about Forgiveness?
To be clear, I’m not intending to say that forgiveness isn’t important. Every person feels bad about their mistakes and sins. Every person holds the weight of burden and regret. And stories and tables that praise, sing, and evoke the reality of Divine forgiveness are deeply necessary and christian. But again, to continue trying to be clear, God was in the business of forgiveness long before Jesus died on a cross. Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures God was forgiving sins. And moving into the New Testament, Jesus himself was forgiving sins long before he was hung on a tree.
And so, here’s the thing: If Paul’s primary aspect on atonement helps you to know and to receive forgiveness and to belong in God, wonderful. That’s good-news-gospel for your life and situation. But there must be more, ever-more good news. Put frankly, good-news-gospel must be freed to be truly good for everyone—especially the other—in every generation.
A Brief Historical and Biblical Overview on the Evolution of Atonement
“Ahh, but Mike, isn’t this relativism?” I don’t think so. I think a better word may be rele-vant. For this is the only way to ensure that good-news-gospel doesn’t get hijacked by those who hold all the power.
More so, to engage in the ongoing work of making relevant meaning of Jesus’ death on a tree—the work of atonement—is a work that’s supported both historically and biblically. I’ll briefly explain.
To learn more about the essence and evolution of atonement, pause from reading this reflection, read a reflection titled, Good News, The Essence of Atonement, and then come back.
Historically speaking—over the centuries—different social mores and societies have emphasized different aspects of christian atonement based on its relevance. For example, in the earliest years the majority of christians thought that atonement was primarily for the devil. In later years the majority of christians thought that atonement was primarily for God. And in still later years christians began to think that atonement was primarily for humans. Here’s what I mean…
A Brief Historical Overview: A Satan-Ward Atonement
To the surprise of many, the earliest understanding of atonement in church history is that Jesus’ death was for the devil. This perspective is called “Christus Victor.” According to this theory, atonement dealt with a Divine conflict and victory during which Christ—Christus Victor—fought against and triumphed over evil because Jesus used his own body as bait to catch Satan who controlled the world.
A Brief Historical Overview: A God-Ward Atonement
Now, if you think that way of understanding atonement is a bit absurd, you’re not alone. By the eleventh century came the demise of Christus Victor’s satan-ward focus on atonement. Put frankly, Anselm of Canterbury wrote, “Supposing that the devil, or man, were his own master, or belonged to someone other than God, or was permanently in the power of someone other than God, then perhaps one could justly speak in those terms.” In other words, the world isn’t held by a devil because we are all held in and by God.
You see, Anselm and many of his contemporaries couldn’t conceive of a world somehow held in bondage by a devil. And so, believing that God alone is in power, not satan—satisfaction theory rose into prominence. According to satisfaction theory—which very much aligns with Paul’s primary focus on Jesus’ death and the social mores of feudalism— God needed Jesus’ blood as payment in order to be satisfied.
A Brief Historical Overview: A Human-Ward Atonement
But then came along Peter Abelard who—like Anselm of Canterbury—could not logically conceive of a world held in bondage by a devil. However, he also could not conceive of a God-ward atonement. Abelard struggled to imagine the goodness of a blood thirsty God saving humans by killing Jesus. And so, Abelard explained what’s been called “Humanistic Theory,” in which Jesus’ death wasn’t for satan or for God, but for humans who need to know the amazing depth of God’s love for humanity, which is demonstrated by Jesus’ self-giving on the cross.
It’s out of this perspective that Cone explains the atonement as “Divine Solidarity” in which God—in Jesus—suffers with all who suffer. Furthermore—according to Cone—in Jesus’ resurrection those who unjustly suffer and die have the hope of rising like Christ, into new life.
And so you see, church history reveals an evolution in the meaning of Jesus’ atonement based on the needs and perspectives of the times.
A Brief Biblical Overview: Satan-Ward, God-Ward, and Human-Ward Atonement
Surprisingly, the Bible actually affirms these various directions of atonement. In Revelation 12 we read that Jesus’ blood frees humans from the devil’s accusations—Satan-ward atonement. In Romans 3 we read that Jesus’ blood appeases the Divine who forgives sins—God-ward atonement. And in Romans 5 we read that Jesus’ death proves God’s love—human-ward atonement.
Surpassing all of these biblical perspectives is a transcendent view on atonement found in Colossians 1. It reads, “For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; through Him, I say, whether things on earth or things in heaven.” Isn’t that beautiful?
According to Colossians:
Anything and everything,
On earth or in heaven,
Is reconciled to God, through Jesus.
That’s how big and buoyant and relevant Jesus’ death on the cross can be, if we only allow it.
Concluding Thoughts
As I understand it, church history and the Bible invite us into the ongoing meaning-making of atonement as good news for today, with a few constraints that I’ll state as questions:
Is this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross truly good news?
Does this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross rouse more and more freedom?
Does this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross rouse more and more healing for the sick?
Does this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross rouse more and more release for the oppressed?
Does this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross rouse more and more proclamation of God’s favor on everyone? Yes, sure, spiritually but more importantly, literally?
If the answer to these questions is a hearty “yes” then we are on the path to the good-news-gospel that the Divine is working here, now, today.
Finally, church history and the Bible insist that whoever has been set free, healed, and included in the beloved community of God, must keep asking—again and again—“Whose next?” And whoever is next must have a voice in the meaning-making of atonement so that it’s truly good for their lives and situations, today. This you see is a dynamic, always-evolving atonement that continues the work of God in Jesus. This is the way in which atonement frees us from a static cross, a violent cross, and a perpetually racist cross in which the privileged hold the keys to an impotent salvation that means very little to those who truly suffer.
And so, black theology shines Divine light on the meaning of Jesus’ death, which is liberation found through God’s solidarity with all who suffer. And this prescient understanding urges white, straight, privileged western christians to make an exodus out of their captivity in Paul’s atonement in order to participate in an atonement that flows with milk and honey, here and now.
A Local Embodiment of Evolving Christianity
Today, the winds are blowing and many Christians know deep inside of themselves that Christianity needs to continue evolving, because our understanding of goodness and love demand it. At Pearl we’re intent on embracing and celebrating the evolution of love in Christian ideology and practice
Evolution is a process by which living organisms develop. This process extends to the development of human consciousness and human systems. It is all—necessarily—ever-changing.
According to evolution, that which does not evolve in order to accommodate its adapting environment—over time—becomes extinct. And this is, thankfully, true for Christianity. Over time, old religious ideas about the Bible, race, gender or sexuality have either evolved, or because they’ve become so heinous to human consciousness are slowly ceasing to exist.
Unfortunately, rather than embrace change, the church has often failed to recognize its own evolution and remains skeptical about its need for evolution today. And yet—to use Jesus’ late night conversation with Nicodemus—one of the beautiful aspects of a spiritual life is to be born again and again and again. For you never know which way the wind is going to blow.
Today, the winds are blowing and many Christians know deep inside of themselves that Christianity needs to continue evolving, because our understanding of goodness and love demand it. At Pearl we’re intent on embracing and celebrating the evolution of love in Christian ideology and practice, and we’d love for you to join with us in Christian life that is:
Theologically nonviolent and non-dominion focused.
Unreservedly celebrating the full participation of women and the LGBTQIA+ community.
Deeply committed to working against racism.
Safely nurturing kids and youth in the ways of Divine Love.
Wholeheartedly declaring God’s favor upon and presence within every person.
Necessarily deconstructing harmful Christianity.
Working Against Racism
At Pearl Church, we embrace values embodied in the life of Jesus. Equity and inclusion are two of our values, and our intention to work against racism is a natural outflow of these values.
At Pearl Church, we embrace values embodied in the life of Jesus. Equity and inclusion are two of our values, and our intention to work against racism is a natural outflow of these values.
Definition(s)
Definitions of racism, long considered to be about individual attitudes and actions, have been updated in our day to include the growing recognition that racism goes beyond the individual. Racism is perpetuated by systems of power: governments, schools, prisons, families, economies, religions. Racism is also understood to intersect with other forms of discrimination, and this intersectionality—the ways various identities interact, such as race, gender, class, sexual orientation, and ability—affects individuals’ lived experiences, shaping their perspectives, worldview, and relationships. Working against racism, then, is any measure that produces or sustains racial equity between racial groups and must include an attentiveness to the intersecting identities of the members of a community.
Our Commitment
Pearl Church understands Jesus’ message of divine love to be inclusive of all people. The Christian scriptures show Jesus seeking out and elevating those marginalized by the dominant voices of society. This purposeful action moves counter to the insidiousness of racism. Following Jesus, therefore, we commit ourselves to intentionally work against racism, standing firmly against racism in all forms. Our commitment is:
The deconstruction of disadvantage based on skin color,
to unearth bias, both conscious and unconscious,
and to work in our community to counter inequities long rooted in the poisoned soil of racism.
Equity asks us to examine and deconstruct systems that marginalize and perpetuate disparities and to construct new, more generous and just systems in their place. Inclusion asks for active investment in our community—engaging with the unique and intersecting identities of those within our community and offering support and opportunity for all to realize their full [and fully loved] selves.
An Ethical Framework for Discernment
Rather than simply listing rules for ethical decisions, we believe that God intends us to discover goodness in our midst through discernment. By asking thoughtful questions in community, with our intention set to find what truly leads to human flourishing in our own lives and the lives of our neighbors, we can move increasingly toward goodness.
Rather than simply listing rules for ethical decisions, we believe that God intends us to discover goodness in our midst through discernment. By asking thoughtful questions in community, with our intention set to find what truly leads to human flourishing in our own lives and the lives of our neighbors, we can move increasingly toward goodness.
Story
Our Collective Story
Our dream, that we imagine and desire, is the consummation of peace in a world integrated by love. The scriptures tell a story that begins with God placing two people in a garden and instructing them to multiply, to steward creation, and to cultivate the land. At the end of the story, the very end, these two have multiplied into a throng of humanity, and all of creation—which began in a garden—is cultivated into a heavenly kingdom marked by peace. It is a world in full bloom.
Our Personal Story
Each person has their own story that influences how they understand their place in the world and perceive their part in our collective story.
Principles (Statement/Question)
These six statements and questions are meant to holistically assess and discuss ethical issues; one statement and question cannot be isolated from the others.
Life toward the divine community of peace is movement from chaos to creation.
Is “this” limiting or growing my capacity to cultivate goodness?
Life toward the divine community of peace is movement from immediate perfection to ongoing transformation.
Is “this” limiting or growing my capacity to patiently hold space for the complexities of development?
Life toward the divine community of peace is movement from covering to uncovering.
Is “this” limiting or growing my capacity to offer my true self in relationship?
Life toward the divine community of peace is movement from consuming to self giving.
Is “this” limiting or growing my capacity to see and to respond to others?
Life toward the divine community of peace is movement from estrangement to union.
Is “this” limiting or growing my capacity to dwell in harmony with God, self, and all of creation?
Life toward the divine community of peace is movement from self sufficiency to community.
Is “this” limiting or growing my capacity to participate in relational interdependence?
Rules
Rules (rhythms/structures for ways of being that support growth) must be continually assessed so that they do not replace the important work of discerning “what is good.”
A Theology of Peace
Our dream, that we imagine and desire, is the consummation of peace in a world integrated by love. The scriptures tell a story that begins with God placing two people in a garden and instructing them to multiply, to steward creation, and to cultivate the land. At the end of the story, the very end, these two have multiplied into a throng of humanity, and all of creation—which began in a garden—is cultivated into a heavenly kingdom marked by peace. It is a world in full bloom.
Our dream, that we imagine and desire, is the consummation of peace in a world integrated by love. The scriptures tell a story that begins with God placing two people in a garden and instructing them to multiply, to steward creation, and to cultivate the land. At the end of the story, the very end, these two have multiplied into a throng of humanity, and all of creation—which began in a garden—is cultivated into a heavenly kingdom marked by peace. It is a world in full bloom.
This peace of God is mediated through a messiah, promised to the world in an ancient poem:
For a child has been born for us,
a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;
And he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6)
In the Christian tradition, this Prince of Peace is Jesus. Jesus proclaims good news—freedom for those in bondage, healing for the sick, release for the oppressed, the favor of God on everyone and everything—and reveals God’s lovingkindness to the world. He then breaks and bleeds and offers himself to all. Awakening to divine love and realizing our belonging in Christ's body, we are transformed and animated to share in the sacred work of cultivating the peace of God. Sacred Story. Common Table. Divine Love. These embody our soul. That is to say, at Pearl, we are shaped by a sacred story, sharing at a common table, and awakening to Divine Love.
Peace is God’s dream for the world. This peace is more than personal or interpersonal, God’s peace is cosmic. Scripture is replete with this concept.
The Hebrew word for peace is shalom, which means “to complete” or “to make sound.” As a verb, it is used to describe the completion of buildings, and the restoration of broken things, as well as the repayment of debt. As a noun, shalom is personal, referring to a state of being, as in contentment or tranquility about the past, present, and future, including peace in death. But peace is also interpersonal, between friends, nations, even God. Peace is quintessentially about the absence of war, the destruction of weapons, and the reconciliation of enemies, and the prophets foretell this peace as an ethical standard and characteristic of the age that the messiah promises to usher in.
These concepts of peace continue in the New Testament with the word eirene. This word is personal, referring to a personal state of being, but it too refers to relationship with others and with God. Again, peace is contrasted with war and interpersonal violence, and the proclamation of peace becomes the elevated vision of the messianic age inaugurated by Jesus, which culminates in the end of all violence and suffering. Another word used to express God’s dream for the world is union, which expresses our intimate relationship to all things: God, humankind, and creation. In John’s Apocalypse, the final book in the Bible, we see God’s cosmic peace—humans at peace with themselves, each other, and God; creation at peace, and humans at peace with creation. The realization of this union awakens us to divinely love all things, and it animates our participation in cultivating God’s shalom here on earth.
Good News, The Essence of Atonement
This article from Pastor Mike’s blog explores the concept of atonement as the good news of reconciliation of all things.
Atonement is essential to Christian thought. In its most simple form, atonement refers to a reconciled state between parties that were formerly alienated in some manner (Robert S. Paul, The Atonement and the Sacraments, 20). However, as important as this word is said to be, you may find it interesting to know that the word “atonement” isn’t actually used in the New Testament. Isn’t that curious? Atonement is a—if not the—paramount concept in Christian perspective. Many theologians would heartily state that atonement is the whole point of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. Others, being less bombastic, would say that atonement is central to the meaning of the gospel. Yet, as important as this word is said to be, it is altogether absent from the New Testament.
A Brief Word Study
In the New Testament, at least two English translations—the NRSV and NIV—attempt the word “atonement” twice and the word “atoning” another two times. However, these translations aren’t precise usages for what’s in the Greek. Forgive me for this brief translation lesson, but it’s important. Romans 3:25, Hebrews 2:17, 1 John 2:2, and 1 John 4:10 all contain the Greek root hileos. Hileos refers to being favorably disposed, with implication of overcoming obstacles that are unfavorable to a relationship (BDAG). In these particular verses, we’re told that Jesus’ shed blood is a sacrifice, which allows God to forgive sins. While the idea that Jesus’ blood allows God to forgive sins fits within the theological conception of atonement—I.e.: the reconciling of alienated parties—the NAS’ translation of hileos as “propitiation” is more appropriate. Propitiation means “to appease a god,” which is exactly what these four verses describe. As we’re about to see, propitiation is certainly an aspect of atonement, but it doesn’t sufficiently capture the totality of meaning and nuance that’s associated with atonement as a theological concept.
A Conceptual Notion
Because the word “atonement” doesn’t actually exist in the Greek, it is a conceptual notion. That is to say, because we can’t simply look at how the word “atonement” is used in the New Testament to derive meaning, we’re left to consider expressions of alienation between two parties who are reconciled. We then point at each expression and say, “That’s atonement.” This is the only way to impute theological meaning into a word that doesn’t exist in the Bible.
What follows is the New Testament’s multifaceted articulation of alienation between two parties who are reconciled. I.e.: Biblical conceptions of atonement. Rather than exhaustively demonstrate each kind of atonement with numerous verses, I’m merely providing one reference for each conception.
In Romans 3:23-25a, atonement results in
propitiation—
Jesus’ blood appeases the Divine
who forgives sins.
In Romans 5:6-8, atonement results in
proof of love—
Jesus’ death for strangers
demonstrates Divine affection.
In Romans 5:1-2, atonement results in
peace—
Faith in Jesus justifies humans.
In Galatians 4:3-5, atonement results in
freedom—
Jesus’ life redeems humans
from being under Law.
In Ephesians 2:11-16, atonement results in
reconciliation—
Jesus’ blood makes two races, one.
In Hebrews 9:13-14, atonement results in
innocence—
Jesus’ blood cleanses
human consciences.
In Hebrews 9:24-25, atonement results in
the end of sacrificial systems—
Jesus’ blood satiates
Divine need for sacrifice.
In Revelation 12:10-11, atonement results in
silence—
Jesus’ blood frees humans
from the devil’s accusations.
In Hebrews 13:11-12, atonement results in
holiness—
Jesus’ blood makes humans
acceptable to the Divine.
According to these passages—and many more just like them—atonement is about much more than mere propitiation. Atonement makes for peace, freedom, reconciliation, innocence, and holiness. Atonement silences demonic accusation and it proves Divine love.
The Evolution of Atonement’s Direction
Beyond that which atonement accomplishes, the significance of who atonement is for has an interesting history of evolution. Over the centuries, some have thought that atonement is primarily for God. Others have thought that atonement is primarily for humans. Still others have thought that atonement is primarily for the devil. Let me explain.
Satan-Ward Atonement
To the surprise of many, the earliest understanding of atonement in church history is that it was for the devil. This perspective is called “Christus Victor.” According to this theory, “The idea of the atonement [is] a Divine conflict and victory; Christ—Christus Victor—fights against and triumphs over the evil powers of the world, the ‘tyrants’ under which mankind is in bondage and suffering” (Gustaf Aulén, Christus Victor, 4).
It may be helpful for me to put this idea in historical language. Irenaeus explains, “For he [Jesus] fought and conquered; for He was man contending for the fathers, and through obedience doing away with disobedience completely: for He bound the strong man [satan], and set free the weak…” (Ante-Nicene Fathers, Against Heresies, 3.18.6). Rufinus is even more clear in explaining that atonement is for the devil. He writes, “For the object of that mystery of the Incarnation which we expound just now was that the divine virtue of the Son of God, as though it were a hook concealed beneath the form and fashion of human flesh… might lure on the Prince of this world [satan] to a conflict, to whom offering His flesh as a bait, His divinity underneath might catch him and hold him fast with its hook, through the shedding of His immaculate blood” (Nicene and Post-Nicene, Rufinus, A Commentary on the Apostles’ Creed, 16).
As wild as this perspective may seem, please note that both Irenaeus and Rufinus, along with the majority of their contemporaries, sincerely believed that humankind was in literal bondage under satan, which kept them from relationship with the Divine. For this reason, in their minds, atonement occurred through an actual fight in which Jesus’ death was “bait” that would “catch [satan] and hold him fast with its hook,” freeing humans to enter into relationship with God.
God-Ward Atonement
If you think that this way of understanding atonement is a bit absurd, you’re not alone. By the eleventh century came the demise of Christus Victor’s satan-ward focus on atonement. Put frankly, Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109) writes, “For, supposing that the devil, or man, were his own master, or belonged to someone other than God, or was permanently in the power of someone other than God, then perhaps one could justly speak in those terms” (Anselm of Canterbury, Why God Became Man, I.7). It’s this precise perspective—that God alone is in power, not satan—from which satisfaction theory, arises.
According to satisfaction theory, atonement is necessarily directed toward God because humans are depraved and in debt, cannot repay their debt, and are in need of making satisfaction to God, which is made by Jesus’ shed blood on a cross. In this theory, Jesus’ shed blood fulfills God’s requirement of satisfaction (Anselm of Canterbury, Why God Became Man, I.18).
This theory became prominent in The Reformation and was antecedent to the notion of penal substitution. More so, this conception of atonement caught fire in the 1700s when preachers like Jonathan Edwards began preaching hell and brimstone to New England settlers. Anyone familiar with evangelicalism understands this message because it is, for most evangelicals, the meaning of atonement and the work of the gospel.
Human-Ward Atonement
Around the same time as Anselm’s satisfaction theory came Peter Aberlard (1079-1142) who, like Anselm of Canterbury, could not logically conceive of a satan-ward atonement. However, he also could not conceive of a God-ward atonement. Aberlard struggled to imagine the efficacy of a blood thirsty God saving humans by killing Jesus. Thus, he explains that reconciliation occurs between humanity and Divinity when humans observe God to be kind, as opposed to vindictive (Peter Aberlard, Ethics: Know Yourself, I. 161-166). Aberlard’s human-ward focus on atonement is often referred to as “Humanistic Theory,” which explains that the work of Christ consists in demonstrating to the world the amazing depth of God’s love for humanity.
Although Aberlard’s human-ward atonement didn’t catch on at the time, its focus on humankind’s struggle to trust in God’s love had resonance during The Reformation in the writings of, for example, Faustus Socinus (1539-1604) as a counter argument to penal substitution. More so, human-ward atonement has found incredible resonance with Christian mystics. Francis of Assisi, Bonaventure, Julian of Norwich, and Teilhard De Chardin, along with contemporary mystics such as Matthew Fox, Ilia Delio, and Richard Rhor all emphasize the atonement as human-ward. For these, the death of Jesus is an expression of God’s love, resulting in reconciliation. Rhor succinctly explains human-ward atonement writing, “Jesus did not come to change the mind of God about humanity; Jesus came to change the mind of humanity about God” (Richard Rhor, “Love, Not Atonement,” 5/4/2017, cac.org).
Summary
As I see it, in 2021, we find ourselves in a place much like that of Anselm of Canterbury in the eleventh century. Anselm—due to the slow but steady progression of human consciousness—couldn’t fathom the need for an atonement that used Jesus as bait to hook the devil thereby freeing humanity from his demonic clutches. Similarly, many today cannot fathom a Divinity in need of his child’s spilt blood in order to forgive and to live in harmonious relationship with humans. This whole idea strikes most reasonable people as an ancient and barbaric way of seeing the world and understanding God. Yet, depending on the consciousness of individuals today, it’s possible to find expression for each direction of atonement: some pentecostals emphasize a satan-ward atonement; evangelicals explain a God-ward atonement; many progressive Christians explain a human-ward atonement.
Atonement is What Matters
This context helps to situate us in the heart of the issue, which can be stated as a question: So what exactly is the meaning of atonement? Answer: The story of Jesus’ death on a cross is exactly what you need it to mean in order to rest into your inextricable union with all things—God, creation, self, and others.
Now, before deciding that I’m awash in relativism, please hear me out. First, as we’ve observed, the word “atonement” does not exist in the New Testament. Therefore, it is a conceptual notion that imports its meaning from many different Bible passages that articulate all kinds of alienation, which are then said to be reconciled—atoned for—by Jesus. Second, as we’ve also observed, church history reveals an evolution in the direction of atonement, depending on human consciousness—sometimes devil-ward, sometimes God-ward, and sometimes human-ward.
With these points in mind, I’d like to conclude by commenting on a passage in Colossians that gestures toward the soul of atonement, which I’ve been saving. Paul writes in Colossians 1:19-20, “For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things [my emphasis] to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; through Him, I say, whether things on earth or things in heaven.” According to Paul, anything and everything, on earth or in heaven, is reconciled to God through Jesus.
I believe that this is a helpful contribution to the conception of atonement; it’s also a fitting summary for this reflection. Does your perceived lack of propitiation, peace, freedom, innocence, holiness, etc., cause you to experience alienation? Paul explains that everything is reconciled through the Jesus story. Furthermore, do you think that the devil, God, your own heart, or any other person or thing is in need of atonement? Paul explains that the Jesus story satiates divinities and sets humanity free to realize and accept their union with all things.
This is the good news of atonement—
there is no alienation.
This is the good news of atonement—
the Jesus story is a means
through which we come to appreciate
that all things,
are reconciled.
Therefore, if the Jesus story is somehow constrained to result in just one aspect of atonement—for example, propitiation—then it is not robust enough to reflect the depth and breadth of atonement. And if the Jesus story is somehow construed to increase just one person’s sense of alienation, then it does not accurately reflect the good news of atonement. For at the heart of the Jesus story—according to the Bible, theology, and church history—is a beautiful conception called “atonement” which, if it truly be the essence of atonement, must function in every generation, every social more, and every heart, to reconcile whatever it is that we humans experience and name as, “estranged.”
Wisdom Grasping
This article from Pastor Mike Roth's personal blog explores “wisdom grasping” as the inciting incident in the Biblical story, rather than “the fall.”
In the marvelous land of story, nothing is more important than the inciting incident. The inciting incident is the essential point that evokes plot, the cause of ensuing chaos, and the key factor to understanding a story’s meaning. The interpretation of a story’s inciting incident therefore, deeply contours and colors how a person reads a story. Furthermore, a person’s understanding of the inciting incident influences what a person makes of a story. If, near a story’s end, the climax resolves the inciting incident, the story is a comedy. However, if the climax of the story fails to resolve the inciting incident, the story is a tragedy.
Importance of a Story’s Inciting Incident
As an example of how important discerning a story’s inciting incident is, consider Peter Pan. The inciting incident is that Wendy, Jonathan, and Michael, struggle with growing up. And so, they fly off to Neverland where pirates and children are chased by time. Through plot filled with hilarity, play, romantic interest, and sword fighting, Wendy, Jonathan, and Michael make the difficult decision to return home in order to surrender to the very difficult but very normal task of maturing. For certainly, they have grown to understand that surrendering to time is a better choice than running from it and becoming perpetually ludicrous pirates or infantile children. This interpretation of the inciting incident makes continual sense of the plot throughout the story, which results in a comedy. I.e.: It is better to surrender to time than it is to run from time.
Consider a different interpretation of the inciting incident. Wendy desires to win Peter Pan’s heart, and so, joined by her devoted brothers, they follow Pan to Neverland where they come to realize that Captain Hook, lost children, and every other swimming, dancing, and flying character are also in love with him. Over time, Wendy realizes that she will never completely win Pan’s heart and so she, along with her brothers, return home to live out their lives. This interpretation of the inciting incident results in a tragedy. I.e.: Pursuing love, even to a far-off world, promises a world of disappointment and sorrow.
Now, this latter interpretation is obviously wrong. A romantic interest exists between Wendy and Pan. And yet, such a reading begins to make less sense as the story unfolds. Hook is not in love with Pan; he wants to kill him. The lost boys clearly love Pan, but not in a romantic kind of way. They appear to love Pan like Jonathan and Michael love Wendy. Furthermore, although Wendy, Jonathan, and Michael are somewhat melancholy about returning home, they are resolute that it is both good and right.
If these interpretive clues are thoughtfully noticed then an incorrect inciting incident needs to be re-examined. Otherwise, the story’s plot will be regularly perplexing and ultimately fail to make sense as a whole. Perhaps worse, is a person who is unwilling to thoughtfully notice a story’s incoherence in light of the perceived inciting incident and who soldiers on despite ongoing dissonance.
Re-examining the Bible’s Inciting Incident
I believe this Peter Pan example is important. Many of us have misinterpreted the Bible’s inciting incident, which has resulted in a misunderstanding of its plot, chaos, and overall meaning. Yet, despite the incoherence that this misunderstanding causes a person who reads the Bible, many of us were taught to put our heads down, believe it with all of our hearts, and by all means necessary, don’t ask questions–soldier on! This reflection intends the opposite response. It purposes to provide an ancient understanding of the Bible’s inciting incident, which results in a wonderfully coherent reading of the story, from beginning to end. I begin by debunking a misreading of the Bible’s inciting incident called “original sin” and then proceed to offer a more ancient interpretation that I’ll refer to as “wisdom grasping.”
Central to misreading the Bible’s inciting incident is a theory called “original sin.” Original sin is perceived to occur in Genesis chapter 3, which tells the story of Adam and Eve disobeying God by eating fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. As a result, God curses Adam and Eve and sends them outside of the garden–east of Eden. Based on this inciting incident, the theory of original sin states that the world was abruptly and catastrophically altered and human beings became inherently depraved.
The term “original sin” was coined by Augustine (354-430CE) in the Latin, peccatum originale. According to Augustine, after eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, Adam and Eve, and the world along with them, fell into utter depravity (City of God, 13.3). Furthermore, according to Augustine, this “fallenness” or “guilty nature” is transmitted through sexual union to Adam and Eve’s offspring (City of God, 13.14).
Original Sin Complications
Besides the incredible amount of pain and violence that this theory has caused by telling human beings that they are intrinsically depraved, utterly despicable, and born in wrath, at least three other glaring problems exist as a result of misinterpreting the Bible’s inciting incident. First, the theory of original sin is in conflict with much of the Bible, biology, evolution, theology, genre classification, and contemporary translation work. Second, original sin creates an interpretive lens for the Bible’s plot that is perplexing and ultimately fails to make sense of the overall story. Finally, those who hold to original sin often fail to appreciate more ancient and coherent readings of the Bible that derive from a different interpretation of the inciting incident.
A Bible Problem
The words “original sin” are not in the Bible. Let’s start with that. And then, consider this: Judaism does not have a concept of original sin. In fact, following Genesis 3, Adam and Eve are rarely mentioned in the Hebrew scriptures. Isn’t that interesting? Much of western Christianity is grounded in a theory that is based on Adam and Eve who, outside of Genesis 3, receive almost no attention when they supposedly, according to the theory of original sin, physiologically changed the universe and depraved the souls of every human being. Besides being absent from the Hebrew Scriptures, Jesus does not mention original sin (that seems important to notice) nor do the remaining New Testament books in the Bible.
A Biology Problem
As previously mentioned, according to Augustine, after eating fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, Adam and Eve fell into utter depravity. Furthermore, according to Augustine, this “fallenness” or “guilty nature” is transmitted through sexual union to Adam and Eve’s offspring. Based on this theory, some thoughtful questions have been asked such as, can a guilty nature really be passed on through sexual union? That is to say, does this make sense in light of what we know today about DNA and the creation of a child? Do semen and an egg carry the weight of spiritual guilt? In my mind, the obvious answer to these three questions is no. Augustine was fashioning theology based on archaic and erroneous biological insights.
An Evolution Problem
Continuing with science, many scholars do not think that there was an actual Adam and Eve. But for a moment, let’s say that they existed. Were Adam and Eve the progenitors of every human being? And if not, what about the humans who didn’t come from Adam and Eve? Did their sexual union pass on spiritual guilt? And if so, how, since these other human beings weren’t in the hereditary line of Adam and Eve? And speaking of evolution, was there ever a world without death? And if so, does this mean that carnivorous animals didn’t kill other animals prior to the world “falling” because it appears that there have been carnivorous animals in the world from the earliest stages of creatures in evolution.
A Theology Problem
The theory of original sin raises questions about Jesus’ nature. In order to support a theory of original sin theologians have argued, according to Augustine’s theory, that Jesus was pure because his father is God, not Joseph. However, the theology of incarnation tells us that Jesus was fully God and human. And so, was Jesus fully human without the depraved nature, which makes Jesus less like all of us and more like Adam and Eve before they ate the fruit? Or, is Jesus like all of us, fully depraved? Neither option fits well within the theology of incarnation.
A Genre Classification Problem
The theory of original sin is a genre classification problem. Is the story of Genesis 1-3 literal and scientifically accurate or is it a creation narrative that speaks literarily? If Genesis 1-3 is literal then cosmology becomes problematic. For example, there is no firmament in the sky (Gen. 1:6-7), there could be no day and night on Day One of creation (Gen. 1:3-5) if the sun, moon, and stars were not created until Day Four (Gen. 1:14-19), and clearly, the world was not created in seven literal days. Also, if we’re reading the text honestly, snakes do not talk and trees do not contain fruit that when eaten alter the state every created thing.
For reasons like these, most scholars today read Genesis 1-3 as “functional origins.” Functional origin stories focus on order and function rather than literal materiality. And so, the creation and fall stories are not literally explaining what happened in the earliest days of our world; they are literarily explaining meaning. I.e.: Ultimate Reality is generative, creative, and personal; Ultimate Reality invites human kind into creative work, etc.
A Translation Problem
Lastly, the theory of original sin is a translation problem. Augustine was working from a latin translation of Romans 5:12, which led him to believe that all sinned “in Adam” (John H. Walton, The Lost World of Adam and Eve, Proposition 17). However, the Greek text reads “because all have sinned” indicating that we all sin in the way of Adam rather than indicating that we all sinned in Adam (Walton; Douglas J. Moo, The Epistle to Romans, 314-350; James D.G. Dunn, Word Biblical Commentary, 271-274). This distinction is significant. In the former reading, we are all, because of original sin, depraved at conception. In the latter reading, Adam is a typology for humankind—we all, like Adam, sin. Moo explains that this latter interpretation has nothing to do with original sin. Rather, it has to do with the way in which we all sin, like Adam, and this is the meaning adopted by most commentators today (Moo, 321).
Original Sin Is A Problematic Interpretive Lens
If the theory of original sin explains the inciting incident then the climax of the story can be nothing more than transactional. That is to say, in Adam we are all depraved but in Christ we are all redeemed. Original sin as an interpretive lens simply says, “Yes, those people, patriarchs, nations, judges, and kings are bad, very bad. Our only hope is another Adam who gets it right and undoes what the first Adam got wrong.”
Unfortunately, for many people this is the precise meaning of the gospel, which is understood to be the resolution to the inciting incident. But is this good news? One guy got it terribly wrong; another guy, albeit divine, got it right. And so, everyone living between Adam and Jesus were depraved, wretched, and without hope while our responsibility today is to simply trust in Jesus who somehow enters into our depraved souls and makes us clean. This doesn’t feel like good news.
Furthermore, reading the Bible through the lens of original sin makes little sense of Genesis 4 through the end of each gospel when Jesus is crucified, buried, and resurrected. What is the purpose of the stories, poems, prayers, and prophetic messages spanning Genesis to Jesus’ crucifixion? What about Abraham, exodus out of Egypt, wandering in the wilderness, life in the promised land, messages from prophets, exile in Babylon, and the majority of Jesus’ life before his death? Is the story of the Bible just one long narrative awaiting the anti-Adam? And does the gospel proclaim nothing more than Jesus’ sacrificial death reverses Adam’s curse? And finally, if this is the gospel then I’d like to ask, why is the human-Adam able to catastrophically deprave all of humankind and the creation while the divine-Jesus is only able to “save” humans who “believe” and the “fallen” creation continues on unaltered? In my mind, this is not only a misreading of the Bible, but at its best this misreading culminates in a tragedy because Jesus does not resolve everything that supposedly went instantaneously wrong due to Adam.
An Ancient Interpretation of Genesis 3
If you’re still with me, well done and thank you! Now I’d like to provide a more biblical and ancient way of reading the fall of Adam and Eve, in Genesis 3. Prior to the notion of original sin was the notion that humans are tasked with growing up from infancy to adulthood. About this process of growth, Irenaeus (130-202CE) explains:
But created things must be inferior to Him who created them, from the very fact of their later origin; for it was not possible for things recently created to have been uncreated. But inasmuch as they are not uncreated, for this very reason do they come short of the perfect. Because, as these things are of later date, so are they infantile; so are they unaccustomed to, and unexercised in, perfect discipline. For as it certainly is in the power of a mother to give strong food to her infant, as the child is not yet able to receive more substantial nourishment; so also it was possible for God Himself to have made man perfect from the first, but man could not receive this, being as yet an infant (Ante-Nicene Fathers, Irenaeus Against Heresies, 4.38.1).
Because it is physiologically impossible for humans to immediately grow up we must surrender to a life-long process of maturation. It is this very process that God invited Adam and Eve into, from the beginning. However, as Genesis 3 explains, they attempted perfect knowledge or what I call “wisdom grasping” by eating the fruit. Theophilus of Antioch (approximately 169CE) writes:
For there was nothing else in the fruit than only knowledge; but knowledge is good when one uses it discreetly. But Adam being yet an infant in age, was on this account as yet unable to receive knowledge worthily. For now, also, when a child is born it is not at once able to eat bread, but is nourished first with milk, and then, with the increment of years, it advances to solid food…. Besides, it is unseemly that children in infancy be wise beyond their years; for as in stature one increases in an orderly progress, so also in wisdom (Ante-Nicene Fathers, Theophilus to Autolycus, 2.25).
Based on this perspective–which very much aligns with Eastern Orthodoxy’s interpretation of Genesis 1-3–the invitation to every person is to grow up into the wisdom and knowledge of God. However, when Adam and Eve attempted to gain perfect knowledge without going on the very human journey of life, they came to know shame, guilt, and the experience of distance from the Divine who invites us each to, over time, grow up into the wholeness and goodness of God.
Conclusion
This interpretation of the Bible’s inciting incident changes many things. I’ll highlight two really important changes. First, Adam and Eve did not cataclysmically alter humankind and the creation; they are simply an example of humankind’s wisdom grasping to become like God without living life. This is good news. You are not inherently depraved. You are wonderfully glorious and full of potential. And yet, we humans have a proclivity to be perfect now, always now. But this merely leads to shame and guilt because we are not perfect. And so, like Adam and Eve, we hide in trees and cover ourselves with leaves. Let us be patient with ourselves and with each other. Wholeness and goodness take a lifetime to grow up into, which is the Divine invitation to every person.
Second, this interpretation of the Bible’s inciting incident helps to make sense of the story as a whole. The Bible’s stories, poems, prayers, and prophetic messages spanning Genesis to Jesus’ crucifixion bear witness to humankind’s slow march toward mature life in God, which is love. Jesus’ life then becomes a revealing of what mature life in God–perfect love–looks like. And finally, as opposed to wondering why Jesus’ death and resurrection didn’t immediately reverse the effects of original sin, we can interpret Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection as the anti-Adam narrative that demonstrates a loving way of being that ultimately, over time, results not only in our own wholeness but in this world’s wholeness, which is what we see at the end of the story:
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On the ether side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. Nothing accursed will be found there any more. But the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him; they will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And there will be no more night; they need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever (Revelation 22:1-5).
Harmonization and Accommodation
This article from Pastor Mike Roth’s personal blog explains why accommodation is a better lens for the Bible than harmonization.
A Lovely Book
I love the Bible. Some of my earliest memories are of my mom reading me its stories. I can remember dear old saints teaching it to me on Sunday mornings. As I grew, I began to read it on my own. At one point, as an adolescent, I committed to a reading plan that took me through the Bible, cover to cover, three times a year. I did this for at least seven or eight years. In college I majored in the Bible. In seminary, I earned the degree, Master of Divinity. I know. Ridiculous. Then, throughout my doctoral studies, I have been able to examine biblical genres and their rhetorical functions.
I love the Bible. Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Noah, Abraham and Sarah, Jacob and all of his children, Moses, and all of those crazy judges, Kings David and Solomon, the prophets, Jesus and his twelve disciples, and that transfigured pharisee, Paul. These are kindred friends. And the stories! Creation, estrangement, flood, Babel, slavery, liberation, the giving of the Law on Mount Sinai, the wilderness, the land, the divided kingdom, exile from the land, Babylon and return to the land, the incarnation, the church, and the apocalyptic vision of the city of God descending on earth. These stories give shape to how I understand the world and my place in it.
A Troubled Book
I love the Bible. And, I am troubled by this sacred book. Genesis 1:7 states that God made an expanse, a dome – literally, a firmament – in the sky. Ancient people actually thought this to be true. In their mind, there was some kind of solid firmament that hung in the heavens. At night, they thought that the stars were actually holes in the firmament that light shone through. And when it rained, they thought that water was spilling through those same holes. Of course, we now know that there is no firmament hanging in the sky.
The book of Exodus explains that nearly a million Israelites were liberated from bondage. However, scholarship today reveals that around the time of Israel’s exodus, that Egypt was itself around a million people. Despite this mass exodus that would have reduced Egypt’s population by nearly fifty percent, there is no record of Israel’s exodus in any writings in or around Egypt at that time. This doesn’t mean that there was no exodus. In fact, there is general consensus that there was. However, it’s more likely that the number of Israelites liberated from bondage, was much smaller in number, than the biblical account.
One more example. In Deuteronomy 20:16-18, the Lord is said to give this directive:
But as for the towns of these peoples that the LORD your God is giving you as an inheritance, you must not let anything that breathes remain alive. You shall annihilate them—the Hittites and the Amorites, the Canaanites and the Perizzites, the Hivites and the Jebusites—just as the LORD your God has commanded, so that they may not teach you to do all the abhorrent things that they do for their gods, and you thus sin against the LORD your God.
But then, in contrast, we have a passage like Matthew 5:43-45, that reads:
You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous.
So there you have it. In just a few examples, we have a cosmological contradiction, a historical contradiction, and a theological contradiction. What are we to do?
Harmonization
Well, growing-up, I wasn’t given any tools to do anything. As a child I was told that God doesn’t make mistakes, and so, since the Bible is God’s word, neither does the Bible. This in turn meant that when the Bible is contradicted by cosmology or history, then cosmology and history are clearly wrong, because the Bible is always right. As a student in theological studies, the solutions that I was given became even more perplexing. Using God’s directive to annihilate every person in the land as an example, I was offered a handful of possibilities that attempted to make sense of this difficult text:
God in his sovereignty could have created these people for the sole purpose of destroying them. His judgment is providential.
God knows all things, and so, he knew that the people in the land would never come to salvation. His judgment is just.
God takes holiness seriously, and he did not want his people to be tempted and to stray into idolatry and sin. His judgment is loving.
Now, I could spend a lot of time writing about why these responses to mass genocide are concerning, but I’m going to hold-off on doing that to keep the big picture here. For the purpose of this reflection, I’m less interested in the answers that I was given for difficult texts, and I’m more interested in the construct through which these answers were given. You see, at the time I didn’t know it, and nobody named it, but the construct through which solutions to troubled texts were given to me, was called harmonization.
Harmonization is grounded in a belief that the Bible is perfect and without error (side-note: without error in the original manuscripts, which we don't actually have), because it is the very word of God. Therefore, any and all apparent contradictions – whether they be cosmological or historical or theological – are not truly contradictory. Either our cosmology or history is wrong. Or, our theological understanding is wrong. Either way, the Bible is right, and our theological work, in order to take this sacred text serious, is to harmonize any apparent contradictions. And it’s this construct that then “harmonizes,” for example, mass genocide in the name of a loving divinity with explanations such as providence, justice, and love.
Accommodation
For the longest time, I thought that this was my only option for reading the Bible if I was to truly love God and to take the scriptures serious. And over time, this became part of the impetus, for my crisis of faith. I got to the point where I was unwilling to do all kinds of mental gymnastics to harmonize troubling texts. Continuing with the example from Deuteronomy, if providence, justice, and love were the “solutions” to mass genocide in God’s name, I was out. I could no longer do it. It didn’t make any sense to me, and I didn’t want any part in spending the rest of my life attempting to harmonize a violent, blood thirsty God, who is Love.
Fortunately, my studies led me to another construct. Surprisingly, it’s a construct that is more ancient and historical than harmonization. It’s called accommodation. I’ll offer a definition in just a moment. First though, consider these words:
And therefore like a Tutor or Physician He partly removes and partly condones ancestral habits, conceding some little of what tended to pleasure, just as medical men do with their patients, that their medicine may be taken, being artfully blended with what is nice. For instance, in the first he cut off the idol, but left the sacrifices; the second, while it destroyed sacrifices did not forbid circumcision. Then, when once men had submitted to the curtailment, they also yielded that which had been conceded to them: in the first instance the sacrifices, in the second circumcision, and became instead of Gentiles, Jews, and instead of Jews, Christians, being beguiled into the Gospel by gradual changes.
Gregory of Nazianzus 329-390, Orations
Anything in the divine writings that cannot be referred either to good, honest morals, or to the truth of the faith, you must know is said allegorically.
Augustine, 354-430, On Christian Doctrine
Undoubtedly the words of the literal text, when they do not agree with each other, show that something else is to be sought in them.
Gregory the Great 590-604 Moralia in Job
If the literal sense of these Scriptures is absurd, and apparently contrary to reason then we should be obliged not to interpret them according to the letter, but to look out for a looser meaning.
John Wesley 1703-1791, The Works of John Wesley
Not only part but all that they say [in the Bible] is historically related and conditioned.
Karl Barth 1886-1968, Church Dogmatics
We must read this book of books with all human methods. But through the fragile and broken Bible, God meets us in the voice of the Risen One.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, 1906-1945, Reflections on the Bible
Gregory of Nazianzus. Augustine. Gregory the Great. John Wesley. Karl Barth. Dietrich Bonhoeffer. These giants of Christian faith are working with a biblical construct that is different than harmonization.
Gregory of Nazianzus wrote about God’s patience with the slow progression of human consciousness. Augustine was so certain that some biblical texts failed to be good and honest that he determined to interpret them allegorically instead of literally. Gregory the Great and John Wesley were comfortable abandoning literal readings of the scriptures when they determined them to be in contradiction with each other, or just plain absurd. Barth made clear that the scriptures were set down in historically-culturally conditioned times. And Bonhoeffer referred to the Bible as fragile and broken.
This is a different way of understanding the Bible and of reading it. A few key points:
The Bible is the book of books, yet it is fragile and broken. (Bonhoeffer)
Contradictory and absurd texts should be understood as something other than literal. (Augustine, Gregory the Great, Wesley)
The Bible cannot escape the consciousness with which it was written. (Barth)
The Bible reveals a progression of human consciousness that begins with Law – sacrifice, circumcision, etc. – but moves forward into Gospel – grace, good news, etc. (Gregory of Nazianzus)
This construct for the Bible is called accommodation. Accommodation is grounded in an understanding that the Bible–albeit sacred, inspired, the book of books–is penned by humans. Thus, recognizing and accepting the Bible’s mistakes and problems – “accommodations” or “condescensions” are made for the spiritual and/or intellectual limitations of its human authors.
So, instead of trying to harmonize “a firmament in the sky,” one could note, “That’s how the ancient’s understood the world.” And instead of trying to harmonize a million person exile with historical findings that reveal otherwise, one could appreciate, “The meaning does not derive from this story’s literal-ness, but from its narratival-ness.” And instead of trying to harmonize mass genocide in God’s name, one could reason, “Every ancient people went to battle in their God’s name, but that doesn’t mean that their God actually commanded the annihilation of every man, woman, child, and animal.”
Questions
Much could be written at this point. But I’m attempting a reflection, not a book. For me and my story of faith, accommodation redeemed my love for the Bible. It afforded me a historically supported, theologically sensible way of reading, understanding, and appreciating it. Yes, accommodation raises questions that harmonization does not, such as: When do we accommodate? Which texts should be read literally, and which should be read trans-literally? Who chooses when a text is absurd or contrary to reason? The questions could go on and on. Put simply, I’d rather wrestle with the questions that accommodation raises than I would with those that harmonization raises.
Accommodation sets me to wrestling with a text, in community with others, with sensitivity to human consciousness, in order to discern the heart, voice, and pleasure of God for today. Harmonization, on the other hand, often feels like an attempt to protect the Bible from its foibles, in order to protect its legitimacy. I don’t think the Bible needs protection. I for one, love it. In all of its texture and complexity and nuance – a lot like life – I love it. And through its characters and stories I am realizing more and more a Divinity who through these very things – texture and complexity and nuance – is patiently moving humankind forward into love. And according to this biblical story, the Lord will not cease moving everything forward until the garden is cultivated into a radiant city of light, which is the consummation of peace in a world integrated by love.
I’ll conclude with an invitation to the Bible, by Bonhoeffer:
The Bible remains a book like other books. One must be ready to accept the concealment within history and therefore let historical criticism run its course. But it is through the Bible, with all its flaws, that the risen one encounters us. We must get into the troubled waters of historical criticism. Its importance is not absolute, but neither is it unimportant. Certainly it will not lead to a weakening, but rather to a strengthening of faith, because the concealment within the historical belongs to the humiliation of Christ.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Christ the Center
Bible as Trajectory
This article from Pastor Mike Roth’s personal blog explores how the Bible encourages us to continue on in the goodness of moving human consciousness forward.
I have often heard Christians decry the present state of the church, while looking back to the “Good ‘ole days.” The thinking goes something like this, “If we could just return to the first century, and live like the early church, then things would be much better.” At one point in my life I would hear such sentiment and I blithely assumed that it was correct.
Today?
No way.
Rome.
Racism.
Slavery.
Misogyny.
No thank you.
The crux of the problem here, as I understand it, is trajectory. Many Christians think of the Bible as a kind of moral manual for how we are to live our lives. With this mindset, we therefore must return to the Bible’s beliefs, constructs, and teachings, in order to get it right. While this makes some sense for those who think about the Bible in this way, it actually creates many more problems, in other ways. For example, the Bible doesn’t advocate for the abolition of slavery. Does that mean it’s okay? Another example. While women have some prominence throughout the New Testament (I.e.: monetarily supporting Jesus, the first to announce his resurrection, etc.), they are clearly less empowered to lead and to teach, than men. At times, women are told that they cannot even speak. Does this mean that this is okay, biblical, and the desire of the divine? Is the trajectory of our lives – in order to live biblically – to truly return to first century church ways of thinking and living? The Year of Living Biblically, anyone?
Now, to be fair, many Christians who would like to return to the good ‘ole days have ways of dealing with these conundrums. They’ll talk about the differences between cultural truths and ethical truths and ceremonial truths and moral truths. They’ll split hairs by saying things like, “This idea was for Paul’s day, whereas this idea is very much for us today.” However, the problem with this line of reasoning is subjectivity. There is no agreed upon rubric for such decision making. Each person or church or denomination seems to be less than honest in stating that tradition and experience are deeply influencing biblical interpretation. This is something I’ll post about more, at another time. For now, I’ll simply point out that any trajectory pointing backward, to the good ‘ole days, is racked with problems.
I’d like to propose that we understand the Bible as a trajectory that is forever pointing us forward. Let me explain.
Gary Cutting, a philosopher at Notre Dame, writes in an article titled How Religion Can Lead to Violence, that violence in religion is often tempered by social mores. Using western Christianity as a case study he looks back and states that, overall, the church has been pulled forward by society’s sense of good. A couple examples could be racial equality or women’s rights. In general, the church lagged behind these good movements, until it could – due to society’s sense of human decency and justice – no longer do so. Therefore, Cutting concludes that society pulls religion forward. And in some ways he is right. But here’s the thing, it doesn’t have to be that way. In fact, I don’t think it should be that way.
Consider a few passages from the Bible:
Exodus 20:1-17, provided an ancient moral code.
Numbers 35:6-15, demanded cities of refuge for those who accidentally killed someone to flee to and to dwell within so that the Revenger (yes this was an actual job title) could not exact revenge.
Deuteronomy 21:10-14, established protocol allowing women who were captured in war to grieve for one month. Furthermore, if after taking a woman to bed the man found himself unhappy with the woman, he was prohibited from selling her and he was instructed to let her go wherever she wished. I know this is horrifying, but stick with me.
Romans 14-15, differentiated between strong and weak consciences when it came to eating clean and unclean food and it encouraged acceptance of the “other.”
Philemon, Paul wrote to a slave owner named Philemon and asked him to receive back a runaway slave named Onesimus, not as a slave, but as a brother.
Now, with these passages in mind, as terrible as they seem to us today, it should be observed that these were movements forward in the world. An ancient moral code in the midst of violent tribalism, was a movement forward. Refuge for the innocent when a Revenger was allowed to exact revenge, was a movement forward. Allowing space for a woman to grieve and to be set free as opposed to sold, was a movement forward. Making room for differences when it came to clean and unclean food, was a movement forward. Receiving back a runaway slave as a brother instead of as a slave, was a movement forward.
Now of course, these movements do not go far enough. How about just putting an end to the notion and role of a Revenger, or treating women as human beings instead of property, or making room for differences beyond clean and unclean food, or abolishing slavery altogether? Yes, of course! But you see, to do so would have been unconscionable. Such consciousness about human rights and dignity were beyond ancient Israel, the early church, and the apostle Paul. However, in their day and age, these movements were radical, good, compassionate, and beautiful steps forward.
Moving beyond specific examples, notice the progression of larger, biblical motifs:
From Law (Exodus 20:1-17) to love (Matthew 5:38-39, 43-45)
From obedience (Deuteronomy 27-28) to grace (Romans 3-8)
From differences (Genesis 28) to similarities (Galatians 3)
From chaos (Genesis 3-11) to cosmic shalom (Revelation 21-22)
You see, in contrast to Cutting’s thesis – that violence in religion is often tempered by social mores – what if Christianity’s part in violence is the result of limiting the moral arc of progress in the Bible to the Bible? That is to say, what if, instead of insisting on a return to the moral codes of the Bible, we were to understand that the Bible makes manifest a trajectory toward endless human growth, inclusion, and love?
We would never say, “Let’s go back to Numbers 35, or Deuteronomy 21.” However, many Christians often say, “Let’s go back to the early church.”
Really?
Making room for differences when it comes to clean and unclean food, is not good enough. It is not far enough. Welcoming Onesimus as a brother instead of as a slave, is not good enough. It is not far enough. Do you see? Too often we are looking the wrong way. The Bible is not calling us backward, into the past. The Bible is attempting to point us forward.
More equality?
More inclusion?
More integration?
These are not movements that should frighten us and send us running back to the early church. No. These are divine movements in the world that we should laud, participate in, and give our entire selves to appreciate, for this – biblically speaking – is the trajectory of the divine.
I am therefore no longer willing to participate in a Christianity that is begrudgingly pulled forward by social mores. I desire to return to ancient roots. Roots grounded in provocative revolution that understand divine work in the world as any work cultivating ever-growing compassion, acceptance, love, and peace. And wherever it occurs? Whenever it occurs? I will point and declare, "There. There is the good work of God in the world!"