I am, maybe, the ultimate Protestant, the man at the end of the Protestant road, for as I have read the Gospels over the years, the belief has grown in me that Christ did not come to found an organized religion but came instead to found an unorganized one.  He seems to have come to carry religion out of the temple into the fields and sheep pastures, onto the roadsides and the banks of rivers, into the houses of sinners and publicans, into the town and the wilderness, toward the membership of all that is here.  Well, you can read and see what you think.

-Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow.

Berry’s take on the common view that Jesus didn’t found an “organized religion” is perfect in its whimsy and wisdom.

Their faith has been nurtured within a clearly demarcated Christian subculture.

They hold their faith with suspicion not because of some theological or philosophical dilemma.  Neither is it the case that their idealism about Jesus has been trampled on by the church; these are smart and gracious people who understand the flawed nature of people, including Christian people.  There are many factors that would lead to a person questioning her faith but, again, there is one theme I’ve heard repeatedly.

Most of these people have lived as Christians for a long time; some can’t remember not being Christian.  More to the point, their faith has been nurtured within a clearly demarcated Christian subculture.  This is the pattern and the problem.

There are different versions of the Christian subculture but the unifying factor is a strong belief that this is what it means to live as a Christian.  Anything other than this is suspect, written off, or disparaged.  This can look different in Chicago’s affluent suburbs than it does on the South Side.  This can look different depending on denomination.  You get the idea.

Like any subculture, these self-consciously distinct Christian enclaves develop traditions, expectations, norms, opinions and language that sets them apart.  Whether or not it was ever explicitly stated, my conversation partners over the years understood that this subculture, with all of its priorities, embodied orthodox Christianity.

Balancing on the edge of the paradigm, he must consider whether or not he can remain a Christian.

As an example, imagine growing up within a Christian subculture where it is assumed that discipleship to Jesus requires voting exclusively Republican, disbelieving any science that doesn’t support a certain literal reading of of the Bible, and limiting one’s serious engagement with the world to saving souls. Now imagine a collection of magazines, radio programs, books, and the occasional movie which all affirm the notion that to be Christian is to be and believe these things.  This wasn’t the environment in which I was raised but, based on the number of people who’ve shared this version of their childhood with me, there are plenty of people for whom it was.

What happens when a person raised within this subculture encounters questions, information, experiences, and perspectives that don’t fit within the only version of Christianity they’ve known to be true?  A paradigm shift.  But, as I’ve been told too many times, it is exceedingly difficult for the new paradigm to include Christianity because of how thoroughly the subculture claimed that theirs alone was genuine Christianity.  And so, balancing on the edge of the paradigm, this person must consider whether or not they can remain a Christian.

In our pluralistic, modern world there will always be serious challenges to Christian faith.  I’m OK with this.  I’m not OK with how insulated Christian enclaves make it difficult (or, as some of my conversations partners have said, impossible) for someone to remain a Christian once they’ve peered beyond the walls of the subculture.

Have you experienced a paradigm shift that seems to require leaving behind your faith?  How do you explain the tendency of Christian subcultures to so strongly identify their priorities with the essence of Christianity?  How can Christians hold strong opinions about issues (politics, for example) while remaining hospitable to Christians with divergent opinions?

A couple miles from my home on Chicago’s South Side is the burned out shell of Pilgrim Baptist Church. As impressive as its building was before a fire in 2006, it is what happened inside the sanctuary that sealed the congregation’s reputation.  Under the direction of long-time music minister Thomas Dorsey the church is credited with birthing gospel music in the 1930s.  Driving by the abandoned building today it would be easy to miss the influence this historic African-American church has had on global Christianity.

Last summer, less than four miles north of Pilgrim Baptist, members of the Occupy Wall Street were arrested as they attempted to set up camp in Grant Park.  Detractors complained that the protestors were unclear about their demands, but even casual observation revealed their shared frustrations, including the growing income disparity.  The protests brought together a diverse crowd – blue color union workers, community organizers, and idealistic young people –united loosely by their moral outrage about economic injustice.

The seeming unrelated nature of these two places – the birthplace of Gospel music and the gathering place for protest against economic injustice – is Obery M. Hendricks’s location in The Universe Bends Towards Justice: Radical Reflections on the Bible, the Church, and the Body Politic.  Labeling the book’s contents “reflections” allows the author, a professor at New York Theological Seminary, to include apparently unrelated essays under the loose heading of justice.  But to miss the connection between Gospel music and economic injustice is to miss the work Professor Hendricks does in these pages.

Read the rest at ERB.

The sabbath was the day when human time and God’s time met, when the day-to-day succession of tasks and sorrows was set aside and one entered a different sort of time, celebrating the original sabbath and looking forward to the ultimate one.  This was the natural moment to celebrate, to worship, to pray, to study God’s law.  The sabbath was the moment during which one sensed the onward movement of history from its first foundations to its ultimate resolution.  If the Temple was the space in which God’s sphere and the human sphere met, the sabbath was the time when God’s time and human time coincided.

-N.T. Wright, Simply Jesus.

To the degree it is possible, I’ve tried to live my as an undergraduate still rummaging around in the world, and so I met others who did, too.

-Roger Ebert, “O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done“

The entire article, a meditation on aging, curiosity and friendship, is well worth reading and seems especially appropriate at the beginning of a new year.