Christianity 101: How To Tell You Are Not Christian

The Dogmatic Sarcophagus,
an early depiction of the Trinity
from the 4th century. 

Do you believe in the Trinity?  If you say no, you are not Christian.  If you say yes, you're most likely Christian.

When defining Christianity the litmus test often is if Jesus plays a major role in a religion's theology. I always found this confusing since everyone believes something about Jesus, such as that he actually existed at a specific point in time (well, except for all these people).  Many others believe he was some sort of prophet, spiritual guide or even a god.  Both Islam and Baha'i' make major claims to Jesus. (For more see Wikipedia here.)

So, starting with Jesus isn't helpful.  What is helpful is defining what Christians believe about Jesus.  Christians believe Jesus is God.  Christians also believe the Holy Spirit is God and that the Father is God.  Three in One.  The Trinity.

This Trinitarian belief is held by Catholic, Protestant and Orthodox believers.  A common expression of this view is through the Nicene Creed.  Here are the specific Trinitarian lines of the creed:

I believe in one God, the Father Almighty....
And in one Lord Jesus Christ...very God of very God; begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father....
And I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Lord and Giver of Life...who with the Father and the Son together is worshiped and glorified....

Click below to read the full creed at any of these websites representing a variety of Christian belief systems:

See here: Roman Catholic ,

and here: Lutheran (ELCA) ,
and here: Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America ,

and here: Episcopal ,

and many more not listed here.

Since this belief is so widely accepted and has been for so long it's easy to see why it defines Christianity as such.  Some Christians, such as Baptists and many non-denominational churches, don't focus on creeds, but if you look through their statement of beliefs Trinitarian acceptance is clear. (For example, see Southern Baptist's basic beliefs.) In addition to the Trinity, Christians also believe in a few other core doctrines such as the whole sin and resurrection stuff and you'll notice those elements in the full Nicene Creed, too.

Aren't Some Non-Trinitarians Christian?

We just talked about the expansive breadth of Christian believers that believe in the Trinity.  There are, though, some belief systems that put Jesus central that are not Trinitarian.  A major example is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, also known as Mormons.  Jesus is central in their theology but they don't believe in the Trinity.  Another example is Jehovah's Witnesses. They adamantly deny trinitarianism.

Like I stated at the beginning, many want to define Christianity as any religion where Jesus is a major player in the belief system, but clearly there are many beliefs about Jesus. Some concepts are closer to a Christian belief than others but the Trinitarian belief has always been the main uniter of Christians.

My point is not that Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses and other non-Trinitarian faiths shouldn't be labeled as Christians, although I don't think they should,* my point is that Christian is a specific term for a specific belief system -- a belief system that is Trinitarian.

*I feel that believers of these religions in these examples, and others, want to be considered Christian because otherwise they are labeled as cults or worse and suffer persecution and bullying tactics.  I may not agree with their beliefs or that they are Christian but I vehemently condemn any persecution towards them because of not being Christian.

Can Church and State Separate AND Cooperate?

The concept of the separation of church and state is as old as America.  Roger Williams talked about it in the early 1600s, Thomas Jefferson in the early 1800s, and we still talk about it today.  And for good reason.  In order for a free society to flourish, the national government cannot, and should not, discriminately endorse, support, and fund one particular religious group.  It should, in this sense, remain separate from religion.

But can religious organizations and the government still cooperate, even if they are to remain institutionally separate?  The answer to that question throughout American history has been a resounding “YES.”  From George Washington to Barack Obama, presidents have supported the idea that the government should cooperate with religious organizations, with two key provisos:  First, the religious organizations must be doing work which results in broad social good.  Second, the government must not discriminate among religious organizations, but must offer their support to any qualified religious organization which is doing the work.

In 1789, George Washington’s government worked through the War Department to fund missionaries to Indians, believing that the missionaries improved diplomatic relations with the Indians.  In 2001, George Bush established the White House Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives, an office aimed at connecting small organizations to federal funding for the community work they were doing.  In both instances, the religious organizations were doing work which benefitted the broader society, and the government aided religious organizations indiscriminately.  In both instances, church and state were able to separate, and cooperate.  Here’s hoping such separation-cooperation continues into the future.

FAITH, THE WHITE HOUSE, AND THE PUBLIC SQUARE - September 26, 2013
If you are interested in this topic, I encourage you to attend an event I have organized at Southern Methodist University on Thursday, September 26, 2013, entitled “Faith, the White House, and the Public Square.”  The SMU Center for Presidential History will host every Director, past and present, of the White House Office of Faith-based and Neighborhood Partnerships (so renamed by President Obama).  These world-renowned experts will help us reflect on the role of the White House in matters of faith, community service, and public policy in the 21^st century.  You can register for this FREE event by clicking here, or on the image below.  I hope I’ll see you there!

Online Discussion Is Pretty Much Just Like This, Only Less Funny...

My wife pointed out that this old sketch pretty much sums up what it's like to talk to people online, even though it was made long before we had chat rooms. These days, It's easy to imagine this being a conversation about creationism and evolution, politics, the virtue of Miley Cyrus, etc.

Whenever I'm in a discussion that starts to resemble this one (which happens all too often) then I know it's time to take my toys and go on back to the house.

History, Theology or Both?

I’m a first year student at Yale Divinity School, where I’m pursuing a Master’s degree in Philosophy of Religion. Most of my coursework falls within that field, but I’m also required to take courses in Bible. For the fall semester I enrolled in an Old Testament interpretation class taught by a well-regarded Bible scholar. This being Yale and not an independent denominational seminary of a more conservative bent, the assigned readings for the course have tended to promote a very low regard for Scripture, especially for its historical veracity. I’m learning a great deal in the class, but the lectures and readings challenge many of my fundamental convictions about the authority of the Bible.         

            
I cannot claim to be surprised; this sort of liberalism dominates biblical and religious studies at universities across the country. What strikes me as interesting is the presumption on behalf of some faculty that this openly skeptical, historical-critical reading of Scripture is suitable for practicing theology.

            
Let me single out one text as an example of the sentiment common among this school of thought. In A History of Ancient Israel and Judah, J. Maxwell Miller and John H. Hayes, both emeritus faculty at Candler School of Theology, write: “Most present-day biblical scholars approach the Hebrew Bible from a historical-critical perspective, which means that they analyze the biblical materials with the same assumptions and methods with which they analyze any other ancient sources.” This is no doubt true, and one commends the authors for clarifying for the reader the discipline’s methodological commitments. But we should ask whether this approach to biblical studies is best suited to the theologian and seminarian. To put the question another way, are the historical-critical method and theology compatible?      

            
To the extent that theology exists as a distinct discipline at all we should expect to find methods and assumptions unique to its practice. Should we not count among the most basic assumptions of theology a tacit acceptance of god’s existence? Or, more cautiously, should not the practice of theology require at least the suspension of skepticism about god? If these attributes do not characterize the theologian, how else might we distinguish her from, say, the historian of religion, the anthropologist or the psychologist? We can expect some overlap between disciplines, but doesn’t the theologian pursue something distinctly her own, namely knowledge of god? And doesn’t the pursuit of knowledge of god first require assent to the proposition that god exists? If so, then it appears unlikely that theology can be neatly circumscribed within the sphere of the historical-critical method.         

            
Constrained by their narrower set of tools, historians remain silent on some issues that the theologian must address. Miller and Hayes admit as much when they write, “While modern historians do not necessarily reject the idea of divine involvement in history, it is a presupposition of modern historiography that the general cause-and-effect aspects of history are explainable without reference to unique disruptions in natural conditions (such as the waters of the Red Sea rolling back of the sun standing still) or any kind of overt divine involvement in human affairs.” So while the historical-critical method contributes greatly to our knowledge of ancient Israel and Judah, it cannot be the only method we employ if we wish to practice theology. Our pursuit of knowledge of God compels us to investigate His alleged supernatural interaction with humankind in ways that the historical-critical method excludes.

            
When the methods of historical inquiry cast doubt on biblical accounts of miracles the theologian may rightly shift her approach to accommodate the subject matter. She recognizes the inability of the historical-critical method to account for God’s supernatural capabilities and suspends her historical skepticism to engage the material. In short, she practices theology, not merely history.

            
This distinction is never raised in my Old Testament class. Instead we are led to believe that the historian’s method must dictate biblical interpretation. This approach seems to ignore the fundamental distinction between theology and history, and to hinder the theologian from drawing on the broader range of presuppositions and methodologies that belong to her discipline. It also ignores the possibility of subsuming the historical-critical approach under a theological framework in order to employ it judiciously, as no doubt many conservative theologians do.

            
Whatever your position on the historical validity of the Bible, we ought to be comfortable admitting that the theologian is, at critical times, doing something altogether different from the historian. To limit the former to the methods of the latter is to eliminate the possibility of doing theology at all, which seems contrary to the aim of any divinity school or seminary. Theologians may profitably draw on liberal approaches to biblical studies, but they should avoid committing themselves to any historical method that would render their project impossible.

Battle of the Beards

Humans have always been a little silly, and the Church is no exception.

It's good to have a sense of humor about ourselves---that's why I quite enjoyed this piece from Christianity Today: "The Wars Over Christian Beards," which outlines the various comings and goings of Christian beards throughout Church history.

Think the "Worship Wars" are bad...? It could always be worse.

This tidbit from the early 9th century might be my favorite of them all:

Early 1000s

Full beards come briefly back into style, but fall out of style by mid-century. This leads some older mid-century church leaders, nostalgic for beards, to associate shaving with immodesty. As one abbot wrote in 1043, the empire in Germany was besieged by "the shameful custom of the vulgar French … in the cutting of beards, in the shortening and deforming of clothing, execrable to modest eyes, and many other novelties." Half a century later, writers associated immodesty with beards, not shaving. One English Benedictine monk wrote, "Now almost all our fellow countrymen are crazy and wear little beards, openly proclaiming by such a token that they revel in filthy lusts like stinking goats."

Good God, man, cover your face! I have made a covenant with mine eyes, but you're well-groomed facial hair is not helping.

What they don't tell you in seminary:
the real story behind the split between East and West.

Messy Spirituality

About ready to crumble under the (in many ways self-imposed) pressure of living by all the Do's and Don'ts we often mistake for Christianity, I was desperately seeking a messy (incarnational*) spirituality, though I didn't have the words for it at the time.

I read Mike Yaconelli's Messy Spirituality in college; it was part of an onslaught of Holy Spirit two-by-fours the Lord used to dislodge my legalistic blinders so I could see that I am the prodigal and the one who has been forgiven much.

Messy Spirituality is about exactly that. It’s a humble, unassuming story of and guide to rightly rejecting neat, sanitized spirituality, breaking out of the plastic shrinkwrap of systematized religion, and embracing abundant life with all it’s messes, failures, complexities, questions, joys, triumphs, tensions, and paradoxes. A messy spirituality truly embraces our constant need of God's grace, which turns us into people of Grace, people of God.

Romans 12:2 warns against allowing the world to squeeze us into a particular pattern, a box that doesn’t let the Light in and keeps us from real living. Yaconelli recognizes we aren’t only in danger of the world trying to make us into what the world wants us to be, but that all too often our various Christian subcultures try, often with good intentions, to squeeze us into one-size-fits-all patterns of spirituality. This small book says big things about what it means to simply walk with God. No formulas, no four-year plans. Just one foot in front of the other. One step at a time.

While a messy spirituality rejects the boxed-in legalism found in certain churches, it does not reject the Church. Messy spirituality is not a lone wolf spirituality. It is a life lived together. The more the messier! (Well, okay, not necessarily---I just couldn't resist.) Incarnational spirituality does not reject the Body of Christ (though it might shake the dust from a particular church off it's sandals).

Yaconelli helps us look at life as a rich and enriching sort of muddling in the middle---the narrow path between legalism and libertinism that leads toward wholeness and freedom. He does so with pastoral patience and humility, humor and earthiness, wisdom... and grace.

If you find yourself struggling with I'm not good enough at x, y, z spiritual discipline. If you find the Gospel truncated and irrelevant to your friends, neighbors, coworkers, or in your own life. If you could use a reminder, an affirmation in the midst of the seemingly constant struggle against our culture's/human nature's pharisaical spirituality.

This book is for you.


___________________

* "Incarnational theology [affirms] Jesus Christ as the human expression of [God,] the second person of the Trinity. Incarnational theology can also refer to the belief that Christians are to function as Jesus Christ to humanity and represent the incarnated [embodied] Word of God to all people." We are His hands and feet. We are His messengers. (Source: http://carm.org/dictionary-incarnational-theology)

Postmodernism is Your Friend

"Postmodernists are just wrong - they say there's no absolute truth!" I said to my friend, Mark.

"I didn't know Postmodernists felt that way." he replied, confused. "Which philosophers have you read that say that?"

"Well...I, uh..." I couldn't think of anything. "I'm sure I've heard that, somewhere. I mean, I think people say that." I suddenly remembered that he was a philosophy major, and I was studying history.

"I disagree with those people," he told me, " I think that is an abuse of postmodernism."

I never forgot those words. I had certainly heard people say that postmodernism is about not believing in any sort of truth, and plenty of people have tried to use it to oppose Christianity, but I discovered that these people were wrong and that the leaders of postmodern philosophy would be the first to disagree with them. So, what is the right way to understand it?

Postmodernism is best defined as follows: incredulity towards meta-narratives.

I know, that probably doesn't help.

The idea is that a postmodern mind does not easily accept any truth. Is the world spiraling into chaos as each generation embraces more rebellious ways? Is science leading us to happier frontiers? Are we living in a more enlightened time than our ancestors, or have we lost something? A postmodernist does not accept any of these over-arching ideas (meta-narratives) and tries to find the truth without using any of these assumptions as a starting point. (Read here if you want more of the philosophical stuff. If you'd like to read a post that explains postmodernism with pictures of kittens then click here.)

Does this sound obscure and useless? Some people think so, and that's fine. It's also harmless to Christianity. In fact, no one learns the truth until they put aside their preconceptions and really question everything they've been told to see if it's really true, and that's at the core of postmodern thought.

Sound familiar?

"Test everything that is said to be sure it is true, and if it is, then accept it." 1 Thessalonains 5:21

Why Did Jesus Weep? (An Introvert's Guide to Acting Human)

Was Jesus an introvert? I like to think so. Of course, I like to think that He was a Libertarian who would have enjoyed Star Trek, too, so my opinion is a little biased.

Something that stands out when reading the Gospels is the way Jesus really cared about people. That might sound obvious, but it's neat to read about him having compassion for people, or being moved to tears by their plight, because in movies He's portrayed as a vulcan-esque figure (speaking of Star Trek) with no emotions and no passion. The Bible tells a better story.

While traveling with his disciples, Jesus got word that his friend, Lazarus, was dying, and that He should come soon to heal him. The letter is from Lazarus' sisters, Mary and Martha, who had seen Jesus heal others. To the bewilderment of His followers, Jesus waited a few days before going, saying He was on his way to "wake" Lazarus from his sleep.

When Jesus showed up, Mary and Martha were upset since Lazarus had passed away. The strange thing is that Jesus didn't say, "Calm down, I'm about to raise him from the dead. It's cool." Instead, he cried. Jesus wept along with them in their misery - even though He was about to resurrect Lazarus.

This behavior seemed odd, until I remembered this:

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.  Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. -Romans 12:14-16

This is tough, for me, because I'm not naturally emotive. When someone's having a bad day I realize how rough it must be, and my mind starts thinking about the situation and the possible outcomes...meanwhile I forget to interact with them because so I'm busy thinking about their issue. Telling me about your problems is like talking to a statue.

How do I learn to do this better? It turned out to be easier than I thought. By simply telling people that I was concerned (or, just saying anything) I found that I could make people feel less alone. (Like when Data pats people on the back and says, "There, there.") The importance of Jesus' weeping became more clear to me each time I found a way to express my concern.

This sounds silly to some of you. I have friends who are ready to tear up a box of tissues at the start of someone's sad story, but it's not something that all of us do naturally. I'm learning. Until I'm good at it, accept my slight smile, or beard stroking, as evidence that I care.

How I Learned to Love Evolution (Confessions of a Theistic Evolutionist)

After hearing about the "dangers of evolution" for so much of my life, I later learned that I could embrace it, or at least ignore it. I think the church's battle against scientific progress is misled, just as any person of science should not be using their work to campaign against Christians. It's OK with me if we disagree on these things, but I want to tell you how I arrived at this conclusion.

In church, I had always been told that the earth must only be a few thousand years old because The Bible Says So, and anyone who says otherwise is just trying to rebel against God. I wasn't so sure about that last part until I met several people who only promoted evolution as an anti-church message. (I realize, now, that most people who care about science are not fighting the church, but if you're a Christian you'll run into people who want to insult your faith with Darwin's theories. Immature.)

Suddenly, I was caught in a fray. With creationists on one side of me and evolutionists on the other, I had to choose a side. Or, so I thought.

This changed when I attended a lecture by a leading Darwinian scholar. I expected him to trash Christianity, but he didn't. He pointed out that Charles Darwin never thought his ideas were at odds with Christian theology (which he knew better than I realized), despite what I had always been told. I found out that the speaker was leading an effort to end the animosity between churches and scientists, and this gave me great respect for him. Most importantly, I learned that Darwin did not oppose the church - that was fascinating. Also, this was the first time anyone ever explained how Darwin came to his conclusions, and they seemed sensible to me.

I had work to do. Hadn't I been told that the Bible was opposed to evolution? But reading the Scriptures didn't give me any obvious answers. The book of Genesis simply tells us that God made man "out of dirt." That's not very specific. Studying traditional theology didn't help, either. In the fourth century, Augustine said, in his Confessions, that God could have created the world by making a seed and letting that seed grow into the planet we know, over time. The word "evolution" did not exist in those days, but Augustine seemed to have understood it.

But evolution takes millions of years, and the earth isn't that old, right? Again, I looked for proof of this in the Bible and found none. The Bible says God made the universe in six days, but it's not that simple. In those passages, the word used for "day" is the Hebrew word "yom," which can mean anything from a 24-hour period to an indefinite amount of time. (For example, one passage in the Bible uses that word when discussing what will happen in "the day of the Lord," which is certainly not a 24-hour day.) I had no idea how long God spent making the earth.

Of course, I'm no Hebrew scholar - I needed help. So I found as many Hebrew readers as I could. All of
them were fluent in Hebrew and came from conservative Christian churches, and all of them told me the same thing: the book of Genesis does not tell us the age of the earth. In fact, they confirmed that the creation story was written like a song and not a textbook. I was told that I could hold to any view I wanted to about the age of the earth and no one would be able to definitively prove me wrong, since the ancient Hebrew didn't include those details. (Scientific tedium apparently just wasn't important to the author of Genesis.)

Then I attended a lecture about the origin of life given by a biologist who is currently working to fight cancer. He explained that the leading theory was that some sort of tiny organism(s) originated in a primordial ooze on our planet that slowly evolved into something we recognize as a life form. He admitted that this was very speculative, and that little was actually known about the origin of life - but the facts pointed him in this direction. I had no argument. He didn't claim to understand it - he gladly admited that it was a mystery - he was just following the data he had gathered from looking into countless microscopes.

I was reminded, again, of God using dirt to make the first person. The biology teacher was saying that life started from dirt on the ground, and that's exactly what my Bible said. Did He do it by using primordial ooze? Do our scientific instruments point us to the ground as the source of life because that's where we came from when God made us? From this point of view, evolutionary science was only confirming what the Bible said - life began miraculously from the ground.

Of course, I have no idea how the events of Genesis took place, exactly. We're only told the important parts - that the world was made by God so He could have fellowship with us - which leaves a lot for us to fill in with scientific discovery. God made gravity to organize the heavens and keep our planet in orbit around the sun, and maybe He made evolution as a way of ordering nature.

We're left with plenty of questions, as my fellow blogger told us a while back, but there is no view of Christianity that does not leave us with unsolved questions. Young earth creationists are still trying to sell me on the idea that dinosaurs lived with the ancient Romans; as a historian I can tell you that is certainly untrue.

If evolution is someday dismissed by science, then so be it. I have no stake in it. But as long as it's the reigning theory I will have no problem with it. I've left behind the idea that evolution is a threat to the church, and I look forward to a day when the supposed conflict between faith and science is put away.