American Evangelicalism: A Different Gospel?

Many people assume that conservative American evangelicalism faithfully represents historic, biblical Christianity. The reality is that it’s not even a passable imitation. This is one of the central themes of my book Unboxing God: An Unevangelical Guide to Christianity, although in broader scope than what I am discussing here, which is focused on the current political-evangelical American religion.

My basic premise is this: Beginning around the 4th Century, well-meaning but flawed theologians not only created various forks in the theological road, but actually created theological frameworks—boxes, if you will—that constrained future theologians who kept creating boxes within boxes. In the USA this has led to what is a rather uniquely American conservative evangelicalism which is rapidly becoming a kind of state religion.

This evangelical-political hybrid religion has very little in common with historic Christianity, other than claiming the Bible as its foundation. It has all but abandoned the ethos of Jesus and the movement he originally established as found in the Gospels and Epistles. Empathy is branded as a sin, mercy as weakness, and the Sermon on Mount is dismissed as impractical or irrelevant for today’s world.

It has become increasingly difficult to separate American evangelicalism from conservative politics. While there is still a belief in “personal salvation” (a concept itself worthy of scrutiny), the American Christian identity appears to be inextricably intertwined with conservative political and social beliefs.

Putting things in order

I think many of us have assumed that American evangelicalism is simply historic Christianity adapted to fit an American context—at least that is what many evangelicals believe and promote.

But what if we’ve got it backwards?

What if American evangelical Christianity is not a subset of historic Christianity, but rather a subset of Americanism? If that’s true, then the dominant identity shaping American Christianity isn’t the gospel—it’s the culture of America itself.

I think many of us would have to agree that we identify ourselves first as Americans, and secondarily as Christians, whether that be Catholic, Lutheran, evangelical, or otherwise. Do we see ourselves as Americans who are Christian, or simply Christians who happen to live in America? Which is the controlling culture? Which culture’s ideals are bent to fit the other?

The other day I came across this quote by Margaret Atwood, from The Handmaid’s Tale: “Now and again we vary the route; there’s nothing against it, as long as we stay within the barriers. A rat in a maze is free to go anywhere, as long as it stays inside the maze.”

This, I think, points out one of our errors as American Christians. We see ourselves as free, but we are all like rats in a maze; we are only free to jump from church to church as long as we stay inside the maze of Americanism. This, I believe, is spiritual ruin. It not only colors our religion but walls us off from the church universal.

Getting out of the box

To rediscover authentic Christianity, we must leave the maze entirely. To find authentic, historic, and yes, Biblical Christianity, we have to step out of the entire box of Americanism—as revolutionary as that sounds in today’s political climate—as well several centuries of theological box-building to reconnect with the essence of Jesus’ message.

Jesus was apolitical. He not only set himself as outside of Roman rule, but also outside the Jewish political and cultural system of his day. He was anti-xenophobic. He was anti-legalistic. His attitude toward Roman rule was essentially “whatever.” He was more directly opposed to the Jewish religious system, as it had placed God inside of a religious and cultural box not unlike our American one and tore it down, offering a way out.

To reconnect with the ethos of Jesus and the Kingdom of God that he preached, we must do the same. We need to disentangle our faith from politics, nationalism, and cultural identity. That doesn’t mean we withdraw from society. It means we begin to see the world with the eyes of God rather than seeing God through the eyes of our culture.

We don’t argue left versus right, but judge whether something is driven by love versus hate. We are anti-xenophobes, because we see that there is no “other” in the Kingdom of God.

I am not suggesting for a moment that we disengage from our communities, or even from politics. What I am suggesting is that we do engage from a position informed by the gospel of “for God so loved the world…” rather than by some temporary ideology or political agenda.

As the apostle Paul put it, anything less is “no gospel at all.”

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On Walking Alone, Sometimes

I don’t often write personal reflections, but running across the above quote got me thinking about my nearly 70-year journey on Earth (I mean, where else would I journey?) which, looking back, could raise questions about my sense of direction and/or my choices of alternate routes. It has been, if nothing else, a McCartney-like long and winding road, although my primary goals have remained fairly fixed.

The choice to walk alone is sometimes made for us, like so many other things. The choice, then, becomes one to either walk, or to don’t walk. You’re alone either way. For whatever reason I have always been a walker, although that contradicts some other elements of my personality. I have a feeling that there are a great many other conflicted walkers out there. But perhaps it is the conflict–the desire to be at rest but the inability to rest–which drives us to walk. I do know that there are those who are more content, but alas–I am not one of those.

Tell me about your childhood…

As I think back, I find that my earliest heroes were those who chose–or were chosen–to walk alone. Martin Luther was a big influence for me; I loved how he stood alone against the errors of the Church and birthed a new movement. I can actually remember telling my parents that one day I would start my own church movement. I didn’t quite, but Luther is still one of my (flawed) heroes in spite of coming to think he was wrong about a few things. And growing up attending Sunday School back when they taught Bible stories, my heroes included people like David, Daniel, and Samuel.

Choosing heroes that stood alone may have come from spending so much of my time alone; I grew up in the country, often spending hours alone on a tractor in the middle of a dirt field, and didn’t have a lot of close friends. I was not a part of any crowd, even when I was in a crowd. Even though I participated in various school and church group activities such as band and choir, I only began to feel accepted when I stopped trying to become part of a crowd and focused on just being myself, for better or for worse. Being yourself has its ups and downs, as I’m sure you all know. And for better or for worse, you’re stuck with yourself so we might as well all get used to it.

You Can Go Your Own Way

My theological journey has likewise been a solo endeavor in the midst of a group pilgrimage. It was not unheard of for someone in my crowd to wonder if I was in fact “saved.” For many years I existed in the midst of the evangelical world while maintaining my commitment to an essential Lutheranness (LCA, for those who care). Those of you who understand the inherent theological conflicts will also understand my situation. Needless to say, this dissonance occasionally tended to disrupt traffic patterns with those I traveled with.

You could ask why I chose to travel such a road, and to that I have no reason other than that is where my relationships took me. This was during the “Jesus Movement” period, so the lines had become somewhat blurry, and at the time I was not that theologically sophisticated. I attended an Evangelical Covenant Bible College, and spent time in a variety of other denominations that friends belonged to, and at times avoided churches altogether. By the time my wife and I were married, I was serving on the board of an Evangelical Free Church. After that, it all gets a bit hazy and a bit of PCSD (post church stress disorder) prevents me from revisiting that history.

Carry On My Wayward Son

There were two “hinge” events (a term used by historian Thomas Cahill to describe points in time where history turned) in my life that reinforced my sense of direction and commitment to my path. The first was meeting a theologian whom I and my evangelical friends had great respect for. After a spirited discussion with a couple of us about some very evangelical doctrine (I don’t recall specifically what it was), he could tell I wasn’t enamored with the party line and when we were alone he asked what my background was. When I told him I was raised Lutheran, he encouraged me to hold to my beliefs as they rested on a firmer foundation than did evangelicalism. For the first time in ages, I felt secure in what I believed, and I’ve held on to that for well over 4 decades now.

The second hinge event was moving to San Diego and meeting pastor and author Ken Blue. I had just spent a year or more being subjected to various “alternative” gospels (see Galatians 1:8) and was looking for a clear path through that theological swamp. Ken’s sermon series Foundations in Grace was the beacon of light that I needed. With Ken’s cooperation, I eventually turned that series into the book The Gospel Uncensored, which is an excellent book. You should buy a copy.

I Walk Alone

I believe that we all should walk alone, at least to some extent. Following a crowd (or being swept along in the midst of one) is dangerous business. Bottom line, you are responsible for each step that you take, whether you specifically choose that step or follow it blindly. It’s your choice either way.

I wrote Unboxing God in part because I wanted to help people decide for themselves what patch to take, and to show them that there are other–and perhaps better–paths than those being taken by the madding, suffocating crowds. Many of us sit in our churches or in our groups of friends, inwardly screaming because we do not feel in sync with the group mentality. To use an overused phrase, we are not “on the same page.” After a while I came to realize that not only was I not on the same page as those around me, I didn’t even believe their page existed. Or, perhaps more accurately, they didn’t believe my page existed. Whether we realize it or not, this creates a sense of dissonance that will slowly cause us to fissure.

Follow Your Road

If you’re one of those people who have no such sense of dissonance, who are quite happy with the guided patch that you’re on, then this post is perhaps not for you. I’m not talking to everyone, except to emphasize that wherever you choose to go, it’s your choice. Don’t walk blind.

However, should you be finding yourself uncomfortable with certain turns the crowd is taking, perhaps it’s time to take a breather and consider why that is. There are often many variables to consider, and different ways to deal with the dissonance. There are always choices, and when it comes down to it, it’s up to you to find your road, whether remaining within a crowd, or branching out on your own. Each choice brings its own challenges, but if you find the right one, you will find that you’re much more comfortable with yourself.

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Heresy (with Hot Sauce)

Like many of you, I’ve been dealing with a lot of anxiety and other related emotions over the past few weeks as I try to stay informed while keeping positive. I’m up on the tight rope, as Leon Russell sang, one side hate and one side hope. Well, not hate exactly–but a good deal of anger. So, I realize that some of my reactions to things might be a little out of whack. (If any of you know where to get a good deal on whack, let me know.)

One thing in particular has been really bothering me lately. Without mentioning any names, there’s a Facebook group based on a podcast whose name includes “God” and a common Mexican food. When I first started following this group, they seemed to be a fairly standard collection of “deconstructing” (I don’t like that word) Christians who occasionally quoted from someone I have read and respect (and who I have quoted in my book). However, the more I followed this group, the more I detected some weirdness in how they used certain key words.

Key Words like “trinitarian”

The first one is their use of the word “trinitarian.” I thought it odd at first, as usually one doesn’t have to distinguish a Christian church on the basis of being trinitarian. I mean, that belief is pretty established aside from a few fringe groups and cults. But, they seemed to have a specific meaning to it that I couldn’t figure out. Some of them also tend to refer to God as “Trinity,” which to me brings to mind Carrie-Ann Moss, but that’s beside the point.

After more digging, I discovered that there is a smallish movement that has pushed back from the Calvinist concept of the Father separating himself from Jesus on the cross, which is understandable. The division of the Trinity in that way in my mind is heresy, too. However, these trinitarians have gone to the other extreme, it seems, seeing no kind of division at all. And furthermore, they see all of humanity as being a part of that “trinity,” which in my mind makes it something much more than a trinity. Three-in-one plus everyone? I understand the notion of being “in Christ,” but they seem to take it a bit too literally.

One of their favorite apologists, John Crowder, has the Nicene Creed as his own faith statement, which is great. I was at first excited to see that. But, it seems his teaching goes a bit beyond the standard understanding of the Creed into a more mystical union concept. It’s all a bit confusing, because at times it sounds normal, then at times it sounds completely wacko. Here’s a post by Crowder from December 23, 2022:

In the incarnation, Jesus came not only to impart His divinity but to endorse our humanity. Possessing both natures, God and man (in His one Person), one nature deifies and the other is deified. There will always be a human being seated in the Trinity of God: a glorified human, but a human nonetheless.

We have been woven into the humanity of Christ and exist in this very circle of the Trinitarian life. Even in our delusion, every breath we’ve ever breathed has been Trinitarian air.

See what I mean? There’s just something a little odd about this thinking.

Whatever became of sin?

Another interesting concept with this group is that sin is a misunderstanding about who we are. Repenting, therefore, is not necessarily changing anything about our life, but rather coming to understand that we have always been in union with God. If this sounds a bit new-agey, you’re right.

Take a look at this “translation” of 1 John 2:1-2 from what is called The Mirror Bible:

My darling little children, the reason I write these things to you is so that you will not believe a lie about yourselves.

If anyone does believe a distorted image to be their reality, we have Jesus Christ who defines our likeness face to face with the Father.

He is our parakletos, the one who endorses our true identity, being both the source and the reflection of the Father’s image in us.

Jesus is our at-one-ment, he has reconciled us to himself and has taken our sins and distortions out of the equation.

What he has accomplished is not to be seen as something that belongs to us exclusively; the same at-one-ment includes the entire cosmos.

The Mirror Bible is a so-called translation by a South African names Francois du Toit. From what I’ve read, du Toit left Christianity and got heavily into new age nonsense, then after some time decided to reenter the Christian world, merging his new age nonsense into a form of Christianity, leading him to rewrite parts of the Bible his own way. This seems to fit right in with this “Mexican food” crowd.

So why does this bother me so much?

It’s true, for some reason this particular angle of heresy–which has largely slipped under the radar of mainstream Christianity–seems to bother me much more than some of the more common kinds of heresy we see every day, like “Christian” nationalism, far out prophetic weirdness, and other forms of conservative evangelicalism that push Calvinism and penal substitutionary atonement. Those bother me too, but I guess I’m used to them and other people talk about them a lot. One reason this trinitarian heresy bugs me is that they have also become fans of some good people, which I think creates kind of a guilt by association. These good folks, some of whom have appeared on their podcast, are not flakes, but in some of the later episodes anyway, it seems the hosts go out of their way to try to lead them into murky waters, talking about things that are clearly outside of the guests’ areas of expertise.

The good news

The good news is that buying into this nonsense isn’t going to make someone a bad person, unlike some of the Christian nationalist nonsense. And, I don’t think believing their nonsense will cause someone to end up in hell eternally, because I don’t really buy into that scenario (you can read my book for more on that). I do believe in refining fire, so there’s that. I’m afraid we all have a bit of hay and stubble (I’m hoping grace can help with that).

The best advice I have is to stay vigilant, and to think critically. There’s nothing wrong with theology and Mexican food, just avoid the heresy.

C’est la vie.

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It’s been a few…

I haven’t posted in a while due to life’s little interruptions. But I haven’t stopped thinking, so I’ll be back here soon. Until then,

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