Guest Post: The Gospel is not good news for all

I’ve been operating under a false assumption. An unexamined theology, of my own making, that I have been forced to confront: The gospel is good news, but it is not good news for all. At least not in the way we want it to be.

"Good news for all" is often understood to mean "we are free to live an unexamined life." Free to prop up our self-serving theology with Scripture, twisted to support any endeavor we pursue.

I have done this. The church as I know it has done this. White Christianity has done this. And I am convicted to say that the gospel is, for many of us, not good news. Its very essence is a message we probably aren’t going to like. But I know with a certainty — beyond my own doubt and fear of repercussion or implication — that it’s a message the white, wealthy, comfortable church in America needs to hear.

I’ve been operating under a false assumption. An unexamined theology, of my own making, that I have been forced to confront: The gospel is good news, but it is not good news for all. At least not in the way we want it to be. "Good news for all" is often understood to mean "we are free to live an unexamined life." Free to prop up our self-serving theology with Scripture, twisted to support any endeavor we pursue. I have done this. The church as I know it has done this. White Christianity has done this. And I am convicted to say that the gospel is, for many of us, not good news. Its very essence is a message we probably aren’t going to like. But I know with a certainty — beyond my own doubt and fear of repercussion or implication — that it’s a message the white, wealthy, comfortable church in America needs to hear.

Read more in my latest post, up on Sojourners.

Guest Post: We make our faith by walking

What is the great commission? It's a universal call to do the work of Jesus' gospel, living and speaking it out. Read in context, it's also an antidote to doubt. Did you know that right before the disciples are told to "go into all the world," many of them are doubting the resurrected Christ?! And yet, Jesus calls them into the message of the kingdom: to speaking, and teaching, and even leading. 

The great commission provides powerful evidence that doubt can exist alongside faith, and that we can be mobilized to put that faith into action in spite of - or maybe even because of - our doubt. My latest sermon, in blog form, is up on Women in Theology

Guest Post: Against Keeping the peace

I had the incredible opportunity to write a piece for Christianity Today about how peace, as we often understand it, may actually not be the most loving response to the people we care about. 

 

We live in an age of sharp division. According to the Pew Research Center, an “overwhelming majority” of Americans (86%) believe the country is more politically divided than it has ever been before. These political and ideological differences aren’t merely a matter of red or blue states; these same sharp divisions exist within many families, potentially alienating parents from children, sisters from brothers. When we disagree with those we love about some of our most closely held beliefs, must keeping the peace always mean keeping quiet?

You can read more here.

Troubling Texts: I am the way

Since the beginning of organized religion, people have been claiming that their way is the only way. In this famous passage from John, Jesus appears to do the same thing. He says: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to God except through me” (John 14:6). This text is simultaneously used to bolster claims of Christian exclusivity, meanwhile causing concern for people who believe God’s truth is revealed inside and outside of Christianity. 

 

In Jesus’ own words, is he substantiating a view that Christianity is the only way to God? Our combination of in-the-weeds interpretation and over-arching scriptural themes can help us here. This is another challenging passage when held up to the scriptural themes we’ve focused on: order, love, justice, renewal.

 

As a traditional statement of the exclusivity of Christianity, it’s hard to see where love and renewal might be experienced. Perhaps there is an element of order and justice for people who are willfully disregarding Jesus’ invitation to life in God. But even then we are forced to come back around to our other themes and, I think, admit that this seems a bit vindictive in light of God’s word revealing God’s heart for love and renewal. 

 

So let’s get a bit into the weeds with some context. 

 

IN Judaism, but not OF Judaism

 

Scholars think that the Johanine audience was a close-knit community of Jews who had come to confess Jesus as Messiah … but they were still active and participating in the Jewish community, perhaps trying to convince people of Jesus’ salvation. John was written within and to this group: Jews who were now following Jesus.

 

After the destruction of the temple in AD 70, scholars think this group of people was expelled from Jewish community, which would have resulted in deep feelings of social, religious, economic, and familial dislocation. Although John is sometimes criticized for only being concerned with the community of Christ-followers, it’s understandable given the history of the audience. 

 

Read with these circumstances in mind, John 14:6 is perhaps more about an appeal for unity within an oppressed community, than it is a statement of exclusion.

 

The way to God is God

 

Broadening our view out to the wider textual context brings further clarity. This is Jesus’ farewell to the disciples, a group of people who (at least on their good days!) already believed. Jesus assures them that he must leave to prepare a place for them (with many rooms!), but that he, God, and the spirit will be with them. He encourages the disciples that through love, they already know what to do: love Jesus, and act in that love as Jesus acted. This will bring them to relationship with God. 

 

Which, perhaps, is what this passage is actually about, when put in the context of the original audience and the Johanine early church: Relationship. It’s may not be about other religions at all, or even about salvation. It’s about Jesus inviting those who follow him to relate to God through him. 

 

Author Steve McSwain puts it in a way I find particularly helpful: Jesus is saying, “If you believe anything, believe not WORDS but the WAY to Life itself. My way ... will guide you into the Eternal. In fact, you cannot separate the way to God from God herself. The way to God IS God.”

 

Another way I think about it is this: beyond being a literal, 33-year-old person who walked and talked among us (something I do think is true, and beautiful) Jesus was the divine in-breaking of God, ultimate Love, the Word, good news. He was, is, and will be earth-altering Love that dwells in us and around us, calling us to a place of right relationship while nurturing our brokenness. Wherever we see these things taking place, Jesus is there reconciling creation to divine Love. 

 

Faith accompanied by action

 

Like in so many other passages, when we really drill down, and simultaneously take a birds-eye view we see a call to action: a call to right relationship, to follow Jesus on the way, to live the life he laid out, and embody the truth we claim. We get to know God though Jesus who, like he told his disciples, is God-in-action. We find Jesus in so many places. Understood this way, I think we can flip this passage from being a statement of exclusivity, to a statement of inclusion. And this, perhaps, is one of the most beautiful threads of scripture. 

 

Troubling Texts: The binding of Isaac

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(I published a version of this post a few months ago on Women in Theology, but I addressed it in my Troubling Texts class and thought it was worth updating and re-hashing in light of my current interpretive efforts.)

As we dive into another week of looking at specific troubling texts, I want to reframe our understanding of the Binding of Isaac, and offer an alternative interpretation. 

 

What if we’re making the wrong assumption about the “testing” happening in the story of the binding of Isaac (Gen 22:1-18)? Traditionally we read this story to be about God’s call for Abraham to be willing to sacrifice his son. Different modes have been used to try to make sense of this: Maybe Isaac knew God would provide a different sacrifice; maybe it’s a (disturbing) lesson in priorities; maybe the authors - from their position writing at a later date and knowing the outcome - created or read into this story the extent of God’s involvement in order to convey themes of obedience and faithfulness to a people that was prone to wander. 

 

But as I’ve struggled with this text, and come up against these interpretations I’m forced to acknowledge that they don’t fully honor the story I believe the Bible to be telling: A story about a God who is creating order out of chaos, ushering divine, inclusive love into the world through a call for right treatment of creation, in order to bring about renewal and redemption in the world. 

 

To be sure there are other stories scripture is telling — a need for obedience being one — that the Binding of Isaac text might more closely align with. But when confronted by a story that doesn’t seem to pass muster when related to God’s love and care for creation, I feel compelled to investigate! And this is exactly why it may be helpful to view the Binding of Isaac from a different perspective. 

 

Re-examining our traditional interpretation

 

I agree that the traditional interpretations of this story, which hang on righteousness and obedience, need to be wrestled with as well. But what if the “testing” isn’t about Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac, but is about his willingness to engage with God about what Abraham knows to be right? What if Abraham’s response isn’t the one God is looking for? What if Abraham is taking faithfulness to an ungodly conclusion?

 

The heroines and heroes of the Bible are frequently tested - it’s a literary tool just like the plots in our favorite epic adventure tales: ordinary people are called into overwhelming circumstances which they manage to conquer through reliance on a divine power.

 

Holy dissent

 

Perhaps no tale comes to mind to better illustrate this point than the story of Job.  His character is cast as being righteous and good (Job 1:1). When calamity befalls him and he is tested, he continues to put his faith in God - but he doesn’t take it lying down. In fact, his push-back leads to a dramatic revelation of God’s character and power (Job 38-41). God is seen reminding Job of who God is, but not as rebuking Job for having complaints and questions in the first place. The authors put Job and God in dialogue, and without Job’s half of the conversation, we might not have had the opportunity to witness divine revelation. 

 

Moses’ story has a similar effect. He pushes back against God’s call to lead the Israelites, and in the course of the back-and-forth, God reveals the core of God’s essence: God is I AM, being itself (Ex 3:14). 

 

So at the very least God can definitely handle push back, and we could even make the argument that God encourages or rewards a healthy dialogue. A well-reasoned back-and-forth is exactly NOT what happens in the story of Abraham and Isaac. It’s clear from different parts of the story - and absolutely expected! - that Abraham doesn’t WANT to do what’s been asked, but he isn’t fighting back. It’s not because he’s afraid to fight back: he has argued with God in other instances, like when he questioned whether or not he and Sarah will have a child, or when he advocated on behalf of the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah (Gen 18:16-33).

 

More faithful? 

 

Maybe God is expecting Abraham to continue in this vein, in which case we can only speculate about the outcome. Maybe God had another point to teach that would have been illustrated through a discussion with Abraham, maybe God was actually encouraging Abraham’s love and devotion to Isaac. Of course, these are all hypotheticals gleaned from reading between the lines. What we do know is that - regardless of if there was another, more ideal way this story could have played out - in the end God praises Abraham’s faithfulness.

 

Yes, God commends Abraham for not withholding Isaac, but could God have been surprised at Abraham’s compliance? Could this have gone another - more faithful - way? As it is, Abraham complies with God’s literal request, and prepares to sacrifice Isaac. Reading this story from an alternative perspective filtered through our themes of order, love, justice, and renewal, we can see how God make senses of humanity’s mess. God reveals a nature that brings order from chaos by providing a different sacrifice. 

 

Order from chaos

 

As we’ve discussed in previous posts, God’s tendency to make order out of chaos becomes a theme in the Bible. When Israel is wandering in the desert, grumbling, God sends them guidance (Ex 13:21) and provisions of food (Ex 16). When things start to spiral a little too far out of control, God calls judges, prophets, and ultimately kings. When the Israelites are eventually exiled to captivity, God finds a way to draw order even into such desperate circumstances through characters like Daniel who remain faithful, or the remnant of Israel that helps Nehemiah rebuild the city of Jerusalem. 

 

And in the binding of Isaac story, when Abraham is ready to take his faithfulness to disastrous ends, God steps in to calm the chaos and provide another sacrifice.

 

In fact, at just about every turn, God is creating order out of chaos. It’s a recurring theme in the Biblical narrative and - as I’ve argued in previous posts - an overarching theme throughout all of creation.

 

Read with this theme in mind, I think we can take Abraham’s “testing” as a call to engage with God in discerning dialogue when things don’t make sense or we feel too much is asked of us. But whether or not we behave this way, God continues to weave God’s spirit through our stories, leaving open the possibility for divine redemption - no matter what results our decisions lead to. 

Troubling Texts: The death of the firstborn

Ah, the violence of the Hebrew Bible. Not surprising that this would come up as the first troubling text people want to tackle. Except, it’s not really one text, is it? And that’s part of the problem: We have a hard time wrapping our minds around the fact that it sure seems like God is repeatedly revealed to be violent and wrathful.  

 

Knowing the prevalence of oral tradition, the history of the Israelites, the circumstances of the written tradition, and the authorship of the Hebrew Bible goes a long way toward making sense of some of these troubling stories. A few of my favorite books that help do this are herehere, and here. (You’ll notice Walter Brueggemann features heavily in this list; in my research and reading I’ve found his Hebrew Bible scholarship to be without parallel.) 

 

The first Passover

 

But our endeavor is to (attempt to) make sense of problematic passages in light of what we believe to be the overarching themes of scripture. So let’s pick a specific instance of divine violence: The death of the firstborn during the first Passover, while the Israelites are in slavery in Egypt (Exodus 12:21-32).  Let’s utilize a few modes of higher criticism to get to the heart of this text. (This is where books like the ones listed above come in helpful, along with other reference and research tools.) 

 

Historical criticism: Looking at what was happening in broader history and Israelite history we can acknowledge that the story of the Hebrew Bible is largely about one people group, from their perspective and their experience of God. It was written at a certain time with a certain motive. That motive includes acknowledging Egypt as wicked oppressors, perhaps to help justify any evil they may have suffered. 

 

Textual criticism: It is possible that the text indicates Egyptians who wanted to be spared this plague were given opportunity to participate in the Passover (Ex. 12:38). 

 

Contextual criticism: While the Moses story would have been passed down in oral tradition for generations, it was likely written down after the rise of the Israelite monarchy, the division of the kingdom, and the invasion by Babylon. These texts were probably written down while the Israelites were in Babylonian captivity - again becoming oppressed by overpowering forces. 

 

Literary criticism: Knowing the above context we begin to see how certain literary and rhetorical devices could have been used in crafting this story. I, for one, can see how it certainly would have been adventageous for a people who had been overpowered (both in Egypt and again by Babylon) to believe that God was capable of overpowering Pharaoh, hardening his heart, enacting “justice” to facilitate their freedom.

 

Back to the birds-eye

 

So with a bit more contextual understanding, we can begin to pull back up to that overarching view we’ve talked so much about. If you’ll remember from last week, some of the themes we see throughout scripture are: 

 

- chaos to order

- justice

- love is the law

- concrete renewal and salvation

 

And you may have other themes that you see as important to understanding scripture and your faith - this certainly isn’t an exhaustive list! What I want to do now is see where - and if! - our story fits within these themes. As uncomfortable as it makes me to say this, I think for the Israelites, it fits nicely! God is taking their chaos and making order through the justice of liberation, with the concrete action of plagues unto death, which ultimately lead to literal, physical freedom. 

 

Depending on how you look at it, it can be tempting or disturbing to stop here and say, ok — God is advocating so strongly on behalf of the oppressed Israelite people that God is “willing” to go to these extreme ends to see them liberated. This is certainly one truth the passage is telling, and a mode of interpretation that has been key for Black Liberation Theology and other oppressed groups.

 

But if the Gospel is good news for all; if our above themes are to be inclusive of all people, can we stop here? When we look at the story from the other perspective — innocent children died, children from families that likely had little or nothing to do with the power struggle at play — we’re back to balking at this troubling text. Taken from that perspective, it doesn’t fit with the themes which remind us that God loves the world (not just a select people group). 

 

One thing N.T. Wright cautions in his book Scripture and the Authority of God is to be careful about overlaying too much of our culture, experience, and expectation onto scriptural texts. This is to the point of taking the texts on their own terms. We can see the text as liberative for the oppressed Egyptians, but it’s hard for us to understand the death of innocent children. We want a better explanation.

 

Wrestling match

 

I said from the outset that I wasn’t seeking to explain away troubling passages, but to wrestle with them in a way that makes our faith more real. In the story of Passover we see chaos, injustice, a situation in need of renewal. This text reminds us that God sees, too, and fights mightily to right these wrongs. 

 

But the text also leaves us with questions. Holding the story of the first Passover up to some of scripture’s over-arching themes, we learn to listen to voices that are crying out in need of order, love, justice, and renewal. And this quest might actually be what leads us to question the death of the firstborn: Where is their justice and renewal?? 

 

So rather than leading us back to a hopeless catch-22 where we are stymied in a search of a redemptive reading, I suggest that this questioning process is precisely the answer. This is how we know the text is useful, alive, and working in our lives. 

 

You may be surprised (ha!) to read that I don’t have a good explanation for the death of the firstborn and the suffering it caused. I can understand the power of the text for communities (then and now) experiencing oppression; I can understand the Egyptians were harmful and deadly oppressors; I can understand there are textual clues that those who wanted to participate in the Passover ritual were invited to do so. 

 

But because of what this text reveals about God in light of our big-picture themes (that God is, in fact, the God of the oppressed), I am forced to also wonder about the death of the firstborn. And this is something I will continue to wonder. Perhaps you wonder the same thing. I encourage you to allow this question to lead you into places of deeper understanding of the God who fights powerfully for order, love, justice, and renewal — and asks us to do the same. 

 

Troubling Texts: Understanding the mess

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We wondered last time if ALL scripture truly is useful and profitable, and I provided a brief explanation about how I think we can address those troubling texts we’d rather just gloss over. I suggest that it’s:

 

1). important to take the text on its own terms — understanding its context, place in history, audience, and so on 

2). important to place the text as part of the larger arc of scripture — the story the Bible is telling from beginning to end. 

 

So before we can address these individual passages that make us want to throw our Bible across the room and put our head under a pillow, we have to come up with a framework for understanding what the Bible is all about. We can do that in one blog post right??! 😉 

 

While the Bible is made up of many different books with their own distinct characteristics like genre, author, style, audience, and history, I think we can point to larger themes that come up over and over and help tell the story of what God is up to in the world. 

 

Chaos to order — and participation

 

This theme emerges early on, in the creation story, where we see a God who moves the world from the chaos of nothingness to the order of creation. The author of this story is helping us understand an important message that recurs throughout scripture: humanity is continually taking matters into their own hands and God is continually creating grace and beauty from would-be disaster.

 

God covers Adam and Eve and sends them into the world; God makes a nation of Ishmael after Abraham and Sarah distrust the covenant; God liberates Israel after they are forced into slavery; God sends prophets to liberate when the people become oppressive; God anoints kings when Israel refuses divine leadership; God raises up the faithful during exile in Babylon; Jesus heals brokenness in the world; Christ rises from the dead after the crowds crucify him. 

 

But that’s not all. Humanity is invited to participate in this process, as is evidenced in each of these examples and many more. And that’s true of each of the remaining themes as well. 

 

Love IS the law

 

God’s movement of chaos to order is just one way that God demonstrates a deep, unconditional love for humanity. And many, many times scripture calls us to love, as God has first poured out that love for us. We are explicitly reminded of this in Deut. 6:4-5: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.” Jesus expands on this when tells us to: “do unto others as you would have them do unto you: this is the law and the prophets.” (Matt 7:12)

 

Scripture is telling the story of God’s love for us, giving us a roadmap for loving God, and expecting an outpouring of that love to the world. 

 

Justice for the oppressed

 

The scriptural theme of justice is almost a subset of the previous two themes: chaos to order, and the law of love. But it’s so prevalent throughout the Bible that it deserves its own discussion. 

 

To me, the most powerful example of this is Christ’s declaration on the cross: My God, my God why have you forsaken me?? Startling though it may be, this expression that God is always with us, even in moments of our deepest God-forsakeness: suffering, oppression, injustice, pain. 

 

Jesus has come so the work of justice might begin: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free" (Luke 4:18). 

 

This liberating message is embodied by Jesus, but it was built into the DNA of God’s people much earlier. In fact, justice is often the order that God brings to the chaos of the world. AND it is the refusal to be set apart for this work of justice that eventually leads Israel into captivity at the hands of Babylon. The Bible is woven richly with God’s care for “the least of these.” 

 

Real salvation and renewal

 

As a result, salvation from the systems that create these cycles of oppression and injustice is also a prevalent theme throughout scriptures. We are saved from ourselves, our own brokenness, and the brokenness of the world into a belief that there is something more than this.

 

We are saved into an expectation that there is and will be a literal, tangible renewal we can see and experience — one we are called to work toward so that we can bring the kingdom to earth as it is in heaven. 

 

What I’m not trying to do

 

These above themes lend themselves to their own mode of theological development. Ever heard of liberation theology? Or feminist theology? Or atonement theology? These individual ways of understanding God and scripture are born of a deep dive into the larger themes above. And they can be helpful for our first task: taking the text on its own terms.

 

But I’m not trying to drill down into these theologies to come up with the perfect ways for understanding troubling texts. I’m trying to pull back to a high-level view and remember our second task: placing these stories in the overarching narrative. 

 

I’m also not trying to explain these stories away. Sometimes the texts that we’ll encounter are just … troubling. Full stop. By utilizing contextual tools and specific modes of theology we can get a better grasp on what they’re about. And looking at the larger story of scripture will help us get perspective. But sometimes the best way to honor a story is to let it be what it is, to sit with it in our discomfort, and to allow God into those spaces of resistance. 

 

I DO think all scripture is profitable, but I think that sometimes the profit comes from our own spiritual quest, not from our ability to clean up the mess and tie things up with a nice, neat bow. 

 

Next week we bring this framework to some messy, troubling texts - specifically stories of divine violence. I hope you’ll join me! 

 

 

Is ALL scripture useful?

What troubles you about scripture? If you’ve spent any time reading the Bible, you’ve likely come across passages that you’d just as soon gloss over. II Timothy 3:16-17 says that scripture is inspired by God, useful for teaching, correction, and training so that we can be ready to do God’s work. But there sure are a lot of stories that I, even as a minister, don’t know what to do with. 

 

What about Noah and the ark - when we’re told that the entire human population of the earth, except Noah and his family, was wiped out? 

 

What about when Abraham was told to sacrifice Isaac - the miracle child he and Sarah had waited for for so long? 

 

And what exactly does Jesus mean when he says, “I am the way, the truth, and the life”? 

 

If scripture is useful, then how are we to understand these stories and passages? There are many methods of Biblical interpretation that can be helpful: knowing the historical setting is important; understanding what the passage meant in the original language; identifying the original audience; digging deep into Biblical and ancient culture. There is important work to be done in each of these areas when it comes to faithfully interpreting and applying scripture. 

 

But I believe that the key with troubling texts — as with all stories we might be tempted to lift out of the Bible and apply to our lives — is placing them within the arc of scripture. To be sure, this is its own interpretive endeavor. Understanding the arc of scripture requires a lot of reading, inquiry, and big picture thinking. 

 

As I spend more time doing this, I am more and more convinced that the story scripture is telling is one of love for a broken world. It’s a story of hope offered amid hopelessness, the story of a servant who suffered for us, and with us, and died to reconcile creation into love. And then we are called to participate in this love as we continue the work of reconciliation. 

 

Where does Noah fit into this? Or Abraham? Or even Jesus? As we take these stories on their own terms — understanding as best we can the history and context of each situation — we must also orient them as part of the larger scriptural narrative. How can troubling texts help us better understand love and hope and suffering and death and life and reconciliation? 

 

Because scripture isn’t only useful for teaching and correction and training. We are taught and corrected and trained so that we may join God’s work of love. Our scriptural interpretation needs to influence us toward service in the world and it needs to make sense as part of the larger story scripture is telling us. When we read difficult texts with an eye toward what we can learn about God’s work in the world, and our call as Christians, I think we find ways to redeem some of these stories and may — one day — be able to adjust our impulse to gloss over them.