Deep and Simple

The first step in driving bold change in the American Church

On a beautiful Sunday morning, as I sat comfortably in the sanctuary of a church I loved, under the teaching of a man I trusted and admired, I discovered how fragile Christian faith can be. My pastor, a literal Greek scholar and theologically conservative teacher, unknowingly lobbed a grenade into our congregation by speaking two little words: textual variant.

He was explaining a certain passage of scripture and how the earliest manuscripts differed from later translations of these verses. He provided education on textual variants, which arise when a copyist makes deliberate or inadvertent alterations to a text that is being reproduced, demonstrating how this was a known issue in the passage at hand. He also went on to discuss the implications of textual variants in the Bible and did a beautiful job of explaining how Scripture can be trusted despite variants in the text.

I was thrilled to have a pastor who respected his audience enough to explain the reality of what it means to hold an ancient text as sacred Scripture, while also teaching best practices on how to approach Scripture with nuance and care. As it turned out, I was in the minority of people who felt anything close to thrilled. Both my pastor and I were dumfounded when, in the following days, weeks, and months, people emailed complaints, leveled accusations of heresy, and even left the church because of this one sermon.

To this day I am in disbelief that Christians would prefer to not know about the presence of textual variants in their Bibles and to deny their existence even as they are presented indisputable proof. Yet, this speaks to the fragility and unrealistic approach so many American Christians take when it comes to what is supposed to be the most important aspect of their lives – their faith in Christ.

When it comes to understanding the complete history of our own faith, the canonicity of what’s included in our sacred Book, and the lineage of what’s known as ‘orthodoxy,’ we American Christians are significantly illiterate.

That’s not meant to be an insult or an accusation. The truth is that modernity posed such a challenge to commonly accepted Christian positions in this country that, for a very long time, much of our collective energy went to mounting defenses against scientific truth claims and historical/literary criticism. Then, of course, there were always the denominational schisms that seemed to flourish in a land committed to rugged individualism and absolute religious freedom (for Christians), not to mention the pervasive consumerist mindset that propels us to ditch what we don’t like in favor of something more…well, ‘us.’ And, finally, we must consider the impact of the culture wars that began as a reaction to the sexual revolution, feminism, the various Civil Rights movements, and geopolitical turmoil.

Photo by Timothy Eberly on Unsplash

All these factors, and more that I can’t possibly cover in this one article, have created an environment in which we’ve become disconnected from the roots of our faith. Certainly, there have been movements aplenty to restore American Christianity to some kind of ‘early Church’ ideal, and theological fads centered on ‘renewal’ and ‘restoration.’ And, for sure, folks who adhere to denominations can tell you history and facts about their own Christian expression, their denomination’s founders, and its dogma. And many of us are committed to memorizing Bible verses, completing in-depth Bible studies, and even reading through the Bible every single year. We can recite creeds, sing hymns and worship songs from memory, and tell stories about the ‘heroes of our faith.’

Yet most of us don’t know a thing about ancient Judaism, how the Hebrew people (who wrote what we know as the ‘Old Testament’) read and interpreted Scripture, and what that meant for Jesus and His disciples or even what that might mean for us now. What’s midrash? Most of us haven’t got a clue. And that’s a shame.

Most of us couldn’t tell you how Christianity spread beyond the Book of Acts unless, of course, we’re talking about Constantine. Even then, we haven’t often considered how mixing Christianity with Empire changed the religion and continues to change it today. We haven’t researched the various expressions of Christianity worldwide and how different people in different areas heard the gospel, received it, and assimilated it into their own cultures. We haven’t done the work of discerning how indigenous peoples understood God, interacted with God, and lived with/for God before they heard of the Westernized version of Jesus brought to them. Many of us would reject outright the notion that these people could have interacted with the One True God before they learned of Jesus. And because this doesn’t pertain to us, we feel completely comfortable with leaving it at that.

Photo by Paul Zoetemeijer on Unsplash

We faithfully study our Bibles, buy millions of them each year, pore over and apply verses to our lives (and the lives of others), and shape our entire worldview around this Book. Yet many of us don’t know how the books included in it were chosen. What is the Council of Nicea? Who was on the council? What kind of people were they? Were there dissenters to their decisions? If so, what were the counterarguments? What books were excluded and why? Where are those books today? What do scholars know about all of this that I might not know? Where can I find this information? How can I be sure it is accurate? Where are the earliest manuscripts and how do they differ from this translation? Speaking of translations, which do I choose and why? What other factors are there to consider?

Then there’s the question of how to read and interpret Scripture. Most of us don’t question this process beyond what we’ve been taught in church. But where did our pastor, our denominational leaders, the scholars in our commentaries, the teachers/writers of our Bible studies learn to do exegesis? What are their presuppositions? Why do they believe those presuppositions are true? What are other ways of reading/interpreting? Could those other ways provide value? We know that all of us are always negotiating with the text. What am I negotiating away when I interpret in this method? What constitutes a ‘faithful reading’ of the text?

Some other aspects of our faith we don’t often explore deeply might be:

• How am I a product of my culture and how does my culture impact my faith? What am I not seeing because of my limited lens?

• What truth might other expressions of Christianity hold that might help me develop a more robust faith?

• Who taught me to be afraid of other Christians who are unlike me or to be against them, even? Who gains from my fear or my againstness? And who gets hurt?

In Harvard Business Review’s recent article on how storytelling has the power to drive bold change in organizations, the first of four key steps they outline is: Understand Deeply, Describe Simply. I’m proposing that this is an essential first step for us inside American Christianity as well.

The younger generations are demanding satisfying answers to the questions I’ve asked above. Peruse TikTok and Instagram and make note of the overwhelming content aimed at deconstructing Christianity. Consider the most recent stats on dwindling church attendance and the growing public opinion that Christianity is irrelevant to life in the real world.

It’s not that Christianity is any less appealing than it was 2000 years ago. It’s not that the world is too evil to perceive the beauty of the gospel. It’s not that the younger generations are too shallow, selfish, or lazy to care about church and spiritual formation. We can reach for the low-hanging fruit of those excuses, but they fail to capture what’s really happening.

I am utterly convinced that Christianity carries within it the Good News. The news is truly good, and it’s good for everyone. We carry the power of the Spirit of the Living God with us and that means miracles, beauty, love, justice, truth, joy, belonging – and every good thing – comes with that power.

As the great theologian Miroslav Volf so eloquently reminds us, we are in a ‘crisis of home’ and Christianity offers the startling, life-giving truth that we are the home of God and God is our home.

We are the religion that believes we are co-creating home, together, with God.

It’s time to go deep and describe our story simply. It is essential that we understand our faith, inside and out, as much as is possible. We must rekindle our curiosity – yes, even about those who we’ve wrongfully believed to be our enemies within the Family of God. We must ask questions relentlessly. And when we don’t find sufficient answers, we must be willing to surrender to mystery. And since mystery is such a real and prominent part of our faith, we must commit to theological humility. We must be willing to learn and re-learn, forever.

And then we must simplify. What is most important about the Great Story we are living with God in this world? Well, thankfully, we don’t have to guess about that because Jesus told us plainly in the oldest account we have of this teaching:

“One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing one another, and seeing that he answered them well, he asked him, ‘Which commandment is first of all?’ Jesus answered, ‘The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” – Mark 12:28-31

Step One of using storytelling to drive the bold change that our Holy Organization needs is to know our story through and through – the whole story, with all its diverse, and sometimes confusing, flair – and then to simplify the living, breathing message of the story into its main point: love.

Our whole story is in the service of love.

Next time we will tackle Step Two: Naming and Honoring Our Past.