A gay man was fired from his teaching job at a Catholic high school because he got married. This was the subject of the July 14th Erasmus column of religion and policy in The Economist, which went on to explore where the line lies between religious freedom and secular anti-discrimination. Erasmus concluded with a question: “Should (organized Christianity) aim to cast a broad wash of influence over society as a whole, which may mean compromising with some secular norms? Or does it retreat into a self-policing minority subculture, observing much stricter norms than society as a whole: the kind of outfit that society can tolerate only if it remains fairly small?”
I think this is a false choice.
One of the striking things about organized Christianity is that it is so—organized. Even the smallest Christian denominations have management and operational structures (hierarchy), routine meetings (worship), defined operating principles (doctrine), and core values (dogma). It is a far cry from The Way it all began two millennia ago. A young man with a piercing understanding of God and the ancient Hebrew scriptures left his dad’s carpentry business in the backwater town of Nazareth and set off to be “about his Father’s business.”
Telling stories, healing the sick, casting out demons, Jesus’ unrelenting message of repentance was directed to any individual who came into his orbit. Get rid of all your possessions so that nothing stands between you and God. Don’t think about tomorrow. The Kingdom of God is imminent. Jesus wasn’t interested in the conventions of civil society. He wasn’t interested in the family ties that bind, nor in the practicality of saving for a rainy day. His message was not the reform of institutions or culture or society, but the reform of individual hearts.
Therefore, I would argue that Christianity today should not “aim to cast a broad wash of influence over society as a whole.” Rather, organized Christianity should focus on individual people. Organized Christianity’s aim should be to soften the heart of each person who comes into the Christian orbit, that they might open themselves to the possibility of God. Our institutions, culture, and society are the aggregate of our people. Organized Christianity should follow Jesus’ example, and pour its energy into people.
As for the second option offered at the conclusion of the Erasmus column—the option of a “retreating self-policing minority subculture”—I reject that alternative. Jesus didn’t retreat; he didn’t stay out in the wilderness or up on the mountain top. He lived in his world, feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, clothing the naked, and healing the sick. Christians should do the same. Organized Christianity’s message to its adherents should be, “Go! Be a conduit, in your sphere, for the goodness of God!” Erasmus’ choice of “self-policing” is understandable, because organized Christianity spends a lot of its energy scolding its own members and everybody else. Like the Pharisees of old, the focus is often on the letter of the law, instead of the spirit of God. Forgotten are two of Jesus’ teachings: judge not, that ye not be judged and forgive, seventy times seven. Instead of self-policing, organized Christianity should love and encourage.
In my opinion, organized Christianity shouldn’t aim to influence society (although that might be a consequence), nor should it retreat and self-police. Rather, organized Christianity should keep it simple. The Christian is called to do only two things—love God, and love neighbor as self. Teach, encourage and enfold Christians with that Great Commandment. I’m not saying it’s an easy commandment to live out, day after day, but it is not complicated.
Imagine a world in which the “minority sub-culture” practiced the “strict norms” of love, generosity, healing, hospitality, compassion, and forgiveness. Could society tolerate that kind of outfit? Who knows? Maybe society would come to appreciate such a sub-culture.
