On being a progressive Christian in a conservative land

Have you ever had the sensation of moving when you were actually sitting still while something large in your line of vision was moving? (If not, go to a Disney theme park and they will introduce you to the concept.)

Before Indiana adopted Daylight Saving Time so we could be like everyone else, I used to say the time change was like that. One day we were on Eastern Standard Time with Ohio and Michigan. The next we were on Central Daylight Saving Time  with Illinois and all our television/radio shows came on an hour earlier. It truly felt like we were the ones who changed time, even though we didn't touch our clocks and the sun rose and set within a minute or two of the day before.

I mentioned in a blog post a couple of weeks ago that, over time, I have found myself more and more out of step with the church I have called home for most of my life. That is partly due to change on my part. I have heard too many stories to stay the same. Compassion calls me to take a different view of my world.  It is partly due to change in the world. Technology has lessened the distance between me and those whose stories break my heart. The world feels smaller than it used to. Its people can more easily communicate with people like me in the rural Midwest United States of America.

I'm not sure how much of the widening difference is due to the church changing. Is the church less concerned about the poor and oppressed whom God favors or does it just seem that way as the culture changes around a church that adjusts slowly when it adjusts at all?

Regardless of who moved, I find myself to now fit the label of a "liberal" in a conservative land. Or to adopt another current label, I find much to like about "progressive" Christians.

But am I the one who has left conservative Christianity behind or is it the church that has moved away from its roots?

In a blog post on 12/31/18, Richard Rohr wrote:

Precisely because Jesus was a “conservative,” in the true sense of the term, he conserved what was worth conserving and did not let accidentals get in the way, which are the very things false conservatives usually idolize. As a result, he looked quite “progressive,” radical, and even dangerous.

I wrote a post last week about how Jesus  persuaded those ready to take the life of a woman caught in adultery to put down their stones. He then took the shocking additional step of treating the woman like a person of value, worthy of an invitation to share her perspective. Those testing Jesus' commitment to the law of Moses went away with more evidence that Jesus was soft on sin, or at least on sinners. They were conservative religious leaders. He wasn't like them. He was like his Father -- the Almighty God of compassion: slow to anger, abounding in mercy and love. (Psalm 103:8 is one of several passages painting such a picture.) He and the Father were one.

I want to be like Jesus. So do most Christians. By definition, to be a Christian is to be a follower of Jesus Christ. So why do I feel like such a misfit in the church when I start talking about extending compassion, grace, and hospitality to "sinners"?

Exclusion versus Inclusion

I love the story in John 8 of the woman caught in the act of adultery. She was dragged to Jesus as a test of his willingness to support the harshest aspects of the law of Moses. She was guilty, caught in the act, dragged away from her lover (an innocent man taken in by her wiles?), and presented to Jesus for condemnation to death by stoning. They had him in a corner this time!

Or did they? Jesus takes time to consider and then comes up with a response that sends the accusers on their way. (You can read the whole story here.) That part is good. I wish I were half so clever. But what makes me love the story so much is Jesus' conversation with the woman after her accusers are gone. He has been writing in the sand with his finger rather than watching as the accusers slowly fade away. Now he looks up and, with surely a glint of humor in his eye, asks the woman, "Where are they? Has no one condemned you?" He looks at her. He talks to her. He asks her a question and waits for a response. A few moments ago she was a dirty, no-good sinner in the hands of religious leaders objectifying her in order to make a point. Ashamed, she didn't dare look at any of them. Now she is recognized as a person of value, a person able to speak words worth hearing. Jesus looks at her, sees her, waits for her to look up at him, and then asks the question.

"No one, sir," she replies.

They're gone. How sweet it must have felt for her to answer Jesus' question with the obvious. She then waits to see what Jesus will say. After all, this is the man to whom her accusers took her for a verdict. How strong will his rebuke be?

Then Jesus softly says, "Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin."

Many people skip past the lack of condemnation and point out the command (in KJV language) to "go and sin no more" as though it negates the lack of judgment on Jesus' part. They can't handle the idea that Jesus was nonjudgmental of people caught up in unhealthy situations. They pounce on the fact that he identified her actions as being sinful.

Religion teaches us that God condemns sinners. However, Jesus -- God made flesh -- was called "a friend of sinners" by his critics. He saw the adulterous woman and wanted more for her. He presented her with a better option. And he clearly told her he did not condemn her. He treated her like a real person, worthy of his attention and even friendship. They shared a moment of humor at the disappearance of the oh-so-self-righteous accusers.

One of the things I have struggled with is being part of a group that closes people out rather than inviting them in based on a certain set of unacceptable sins. We can overlook offenses such as pride, ambition, envy, gossip, greed, self-indulgence, self-righteousness, and being short-tempered. We even toss out the 4th of the "Big Ten" commandments -- Sabbath-keeping -- as impractical in today's society. But sins such as adultery, or even sexual relationships between two unmarried people with no betrayed spouse in the shadows ... well, we think, people involved in that sort of thing need to know that their actions are completely unacceptable in the sight of God. In condemning others, we forget how short we ourselves have fallen when measured against the law of perfect love for God and others. We can't see that the sins we condemn in others are mere specks compared to those we ignore in our own lives. (See Matthew 7:3-5)

One of my goals for 2019 is to learn a better way of life from those Jesus says are entering the kingdom of God ahead of the religious people. (See Matthew 21:31b) A first step along that path is to truly believe we all fall short of any perfect standard by which God would measure us. Some of us are just better at fitting into the culture of religion than others and start to think our own unloving actions aren't as serious as the sins of others.

Am I going to leave behind my "clean living" lifestyle in order to become a "friend of sinners"? Probably not. Perhaps a better step is to look more closely at the ways I live a life of privilege in a world of suffering. I need to be more fully aware that only grace stands between me and condemnation by the God who loves and favors the poor and oppressed.

Still learning.