Why I Refuse to Leave the Church

\In all the conversations about people leaving the church, I wrote up my own response until I realized that I was writing the wrong paper. I should instead be writing about why I refuse to leave the church. After all, I am a millennial (born in 1988) and I haven’t stopped going to church. In fact, I am vacillating between two churches right now (one being a UU-congregation, and the other being Presbyterian). For many in my age group, the unaffiliated and the non-religious are on the rise. What makes me stay? There are at least a couple of answers. 1. Christianity runs deep in my identity. Honestly, this sounds weird, but my favorite thing to do in church is to think of the Christian symbols (hymns, creeds, sermon, Scriptures, wherever) and the multiple ways in which one can interpret them (perhaps unsurprisingly, I’ve graduated from seminary). The Christian symbols are the ones that have deep resonance with me. I may not interpret them literally (by that I mean ontologically), and I may not interpret them in ways that many others do, but I nonetheless find myself attracted to them. Even in my firm rejection of some of them (like the idea of God-as-entity), I am still very drawn to them. I keep coming back around to them. I find myself reflecting deeply about the universe, myself, the universe-in-myself, and myself-in-the-universe through these beautiful and rich and potent symbols of Christianity. 2. I want a community of faith. In today’s technological age, there are many possible communities to choose from. Even now, I am in book clubs, meet up groups, dating websites, and have a full calendar list of arts events (dancing, orchestra, theater, etc.) The sheer number of others that I could do is mind-boggling. But I have found that however much I care about justice, and however much I care about biking or reading or philosophy or other interests, I feel a need for a community oriented around faith and specifically the Christian faith. Having friends is nice; doing activities to get me out of the apartment is nice. No doubts about it. But I don’t need more friends, and honestly I don’t need more activities either. I plan myself quite full by myself. What I want is to go deep, and specifically, to go deep with others. Sure, depth can be accomplished in random conversations in between billards games with the recent college grads meetup group (as happened last week). But there is something almost easier in a faith community setting. This is why I love my spirituality group (at my UU church). This is why I love my Christian church. When we all come together, we come together specifically because we want to go deeply into our religious heritage, our spirituality, our religious narrative. This depth is intense. Sometimes it produces a lot of pain. Sometimes it is frustrating. Any worthwhile community is. But without a community of faith, I doubt my ability to find that type of deep community, and I find my investment in church to be worth the risk. At any rate, I don’t think it would be as likely to occur in a non-faith community. 3. I want spiritual and personal depth. Becoming good at something requires discipline, and gaining depth of one’s whole self is no different. Having a religion where I experience God in the sunset or the ocean is cool, and I certainly do, but it’s easy. Unless I have accountability, and unless I am being continually challenged by others (either with their ideas, their ways of having faith, their ways of experiencing the divine, or their actions that provoke reflection in me), all of which have happened to me in previous communities of faith, then I’ll be honest and say that my spiritual and personal life is going to be undernourished. Like I said before, community’s tough. But community can be worth the pain and the annoyances. I don’t believe we are individualistic creatures, and so I want the depth and discipline and new ideas by being active within a faith community. Narcissism may be easier, and maybe there is a time for that. But now is not that time for me.

Logos v Spirit Christologies

Talking with an Orthodox person about Christology made me think about some things. In particular, I want this essay to explore ways that Christology can be conceived of, and how various members of the Church have understood themselves in light of their view of Jesus Christ. By way of introduction, whenever “Jesus of Nazareth” is used, that title is normally used to describe the historical Jesus of Biblical scholarship), whereas “Jesus Christ” or “Jesus the Christ” is often used to describe the resurrected Jesus of faith. Now, the traditional Christian answer to “what makes Jesus of Nazareth be Jesus the Christ” has been, historically speaking, the combination of the Logos and the Spirit. However, though most doctors of the church (going all the way through Calvin who emphasized the two in his Institutes) would grant that both are important, I believe there has typically an emphasis on either the Logos or the Spirit. These emphases, or clusters of images, I believe, can lead to important differences in metaphysics, perceived value of other religions, and even Christian ethics. If one emphasizes the Logos cluster of images, one will tend to focus on the Johannine texts, which talk about the pre-existent Logos (or Sophia) that is incarnate of the Virgin Mary through the Holy Spirit in the fullness of time. In other words, Jesus of Nazareth was always Jesus the Christ, starting at conception through the Holy Spirit. Jesus’ ministry may have started later, but there will be visible signs of Jesus’ miraculous existence, as one sees in some non-canonical texts like the Gospel of Thomas. A strong Logos Christology emphasizes Jesus Christ’s uniqueness. Christ, and no one else, is the final redeemer because Christ, and no one else, is the incarnation of the Logos. Other religions will likely not be emphasized because they are not based on incarnations of the Logos, and a priority on Christian claims, and dogmas may occur. For instance, the church communities in Alexandria struggled with how to reconcile the Logos with human nature (was Jesus of 2 minds, 2 wills, 2 souls?), and many later-condemned heresies came out of Egypt because of that struggle. Also, because the Logos came down from heaven at the appointed time, in the fullness of time, there seems to be a view of necessity. The one Logos came down at the one appointed time in history. By contrast, the other cluster of images, the ones concerning the Spirit, will place priority on Jesus’ ministry as the starting point, perhaps even saying that Jesus of Nazareth became Jesus the Christ when the Holy Spirit came upon him in baptism, after the Holy Spirit empowered Him to rebuff Satan’s advances (in the 40-day wilderness period). Whereas Logos Christologies tend to be very metaphysical with all kinds of distinctions and clarifications, Spirit Christologies tend to eschew metaphysics. The divine and human spaces seem much more easily viewed as non-competing in a spirit outlook, and historically speaking, there are far fewer heresies associated with a Spirit emphasis. There also seems a greater receptivity for nonreligious or interreligious dialogue because the Spirit is more open and free and contingent. The Spirit is free, and the Scripture likens the Spirit to the wind, for no one knows where the Spirit is blowing. We can feel its effects, but we cannot control it. Moreover, Spirit workings are more easily viewed as consistent with miracle workers today. After all, when the Spirit comes upon someone, whether it be Jesus or the prophets of old, the Scriptural testimony is that miracles happened. To sum up: 1. Logos-centered Christology may tend to prioritize the Christian tradition to the extent that there is no need to dialogue with other religions because only Christianity is based on the incarnate Logos. 2. Logos-centered Christology will probably be more vulnerable to heresies because of its metaphysical and philosophical emphases. Perhaps, like the sacraments, there will be all kinds of distinctions and predicate/attribute clarifications, etc. 3. Logos-centered Christology will be more resonant with conceptions of necessity, unity, finality, design, and order. 4. Spirit-centered Christology seems much more open to other religious symbols and imagery because the Spirit cannot be controlled and chooses whomever it chooses. 5. Spirit-centered Christology seems resonant with conceptions of contingency, freedom, openness, receptivity, anointing, and empowering. 6. Spirit-centered Christology more easily views divine and human spaces as non-competing. Regarding Christian ethics, I think the difference between a Logos and Spirit-centered Christology becomes very important. Just consider these thoughts. A Logos-centered Christology is less likely to say we should imitate Christ because we can’t imitate Christ. Only Christ is the incarnate Logos. The best we can do is to be “in Christ,” which has historically been understood as partaking of the sacraments and being under the authority of the bishop. A Spirit-centered Christology, by contrast, very much affirms our ability to imitate Christ. The important marker in Jesus becoming the Christ was the anointing and empowering of the Spirit. Imitating Christ can thus be understood as being open to God’s Spirit and participation in the Spirit’s work of freedom and love in the world. As Gregory of Nyssa said in his Life of Moses, true virtue is openness to encounter God in God’s darkness. Virtue in this way can be developed in mystical contemplation or in political activism or in a myriad of other ways because of the diversity of the Spirit’s works. Whereas a Logos-centered Christology may affirm the incarnational sacraments (Catholicism) and/or kataphatic images of Jesus Christ (evangelicalism), a Spirit-centered Christology may affirm apophatic experiences. God’s infinitude and “darkness” seem more compatible with the freedom of God’s Spirit. Fewer rules and regulations may correspond best with God’s freedom. Openness, not determination and predication, are the ways for virtue under this cluster of images.