Church of Christ Scientists: How Honesty Gains Respect

In my early 20s, I had the opportunity to stop by the Church of Christ Scientist in Rochester, MI.  Here's what I remember.

I walked into an auditorium.  There were two aisles on either side of the auditorium.  Upon the stage in the front of the room stood two podiums, one on the left and one on the right.  The congregation was mostly elderly.  This is true in many churches, but it was more profoundly true here than in most churches.  There were probably about 70 people in attendance.

The church service was predominantly led by women who read from two books.  One was the Bible.  I think the other was Science and Health by Mary Baker Eddy.  Up to this point, I've not taken the time to read the other book.  Aside from the additional text and strong female leadership the service didn't strike me as anything particularly out of the ordinary.  I remember enjoying it in a dull sort of way.

Mary Baker Eddy "Discovered" Christian Science

When it was over, I found myself talking to a woman in her mid fifties.  She wore a red dress.  We introduced ourselves and chatted politely about the service.  I explained that I was a theology student from Rochester College down the street.  Eventually, we got around to discussing the Church of Christ Scientist doctrine concerning faith and health.  It went something like this:

Me: Correct me if I'm wrong.  As I understand it, your church teaches that if people have faith that they will not suffer from illness.
Her: Yes, that's true.
Me: Would you also agree that people who have practiced the faith longest tend to be the most mature in it?
Her: I would say that this tends to be true, yes.
Me: It also seems to me that the oldest people in your congregation seem to be in the weakest health.  Does your fellowship have a theological explanation as to why this is?
Her: I don't know.  Honestly, I've never considered it.  Let me tell you something though.  When our denomination was founded, most Christians didn't believe that God acted in people's lives directly.  It wasn't even typical to ask for God to heal people.

Christian Science's Mother Church in Boston, MA (I hope to visit in April!)

I don't remember how the rest of the conversation went.  It was pleasant.  I don't know if that comes out in text, but I could tell that she knew that I was seeking understanding rather than challenging her.

For my part, I was and am impressed by her answer.  She answered kindly and undefensively.  This isn't an easy thing to do when one of the key assumptions of our faith has just been challenged.  My direct questions don't always get kind responses.  More impressively, she explained the historical context of her movement and the value she thought it had given to Christianity as a whole.  It seemed like a mature perspective that reflected not only on her but on her denomination as well.

How I Became a Humanist #7: Dan's Death

Dan was a member of our prayer group.  I didn't know him well, but we prayed together every week. We also confessed our sins to one another....

Joe, myself and a few others had just come back from a Skillet concert.  As we drove towards Barbier parking lot, we noticed several cars parked haphazardly around Dearborn Commons.  Through the window of the building I could see people quivering and hugging.  They looked to be crying.  Joe parked his car in Barbier and I headed over to Dearborn Commons.  There had been an accident.  Some of the students from the school had died.  Rochester College is small enough that all of the students tend to know each other - this is especially true of the students who live on campus.  You get to a point where you can recognize a person from half-way across campus, in the dark, simply by observing their gait.  Students from small liberal arts colleges will understand.

Ferndale/Hoggatt Halls and Dearborn Commons

Seeing one's own mortality in another's death affects everyone differently.  All the students and faculty were moved by the event in their own ways.  I'd had some things happen in my life over the last year or so that made me believe that following God as a Christian was the only thing that really mattered.  With Dan's death, I took religion to a whole new level.  Within about a month of Dan's death, I'd changed my major to religious studies/communication.  I began spending all of my spare time studying religion and doing spiritual things.  I read the Bible cover-to-cover three times over the next year.  This doesn't include the readings I did for classes or sermons.  It also doesn't include the readings I did with whatever young woman I happened to be dating.  Yeah, I was a hot date.

This was all happening at about the same time Emanuel's House was being born.  I was surrounded by people who were experiencing similar things.  It all fed on itself.  When the next semester hit and I began taking Bible, theology and church history classes, I went from being a sub-par student to finding myself with over a 3.0 GPA.  Soon after I was on the Dean's List.  This was a big deal for me.  Academic achievement was not a concern growing up.  The truth is, I didn't care about it even then.  I just happened to love my studies so much that an evening in the library was anything but a chore.

Like this Bible is highlighted, mine were always highlighted with comments written in the margins.  

Over the next three years, several things grew out of my religious intensity and my studies.  At first, I became something of a Charismatic Christian.  I began to ditch most of concern for Church of Christ doctrines, minus the sacraments and a preference for taking the first century Christianity seriously.  I became obsessed with biblical studies, Church history and with understanding the various expressions of Christianity.  This curiosity eventually led me to study both philosophy and other religions.  I'll write about all of these things and their affect on my faith in subsequent posts. 

My Neighbor's Faith: Marriage and Family in the Mormon Faith (LDS Temple in DC)

Visitor's Center in Salt Lake

Several years ago, the Army sent me to Salt Lake City for training.  While there, I visited a Mormon ward that some of my relatives attend.  I also happened to stop by the Tabernacle and the Temple Visitor's Center.  It was beautiful and they had lots of historical artifacts pertaining to the faith.

My visits left no doubt in my mind that the Mormons strongly value family.  At almost every encounter someone would ask me, "Don't you want to live with your family forever?"  They seemed to think that this was an innate human desire.  One could see in all places that the Mormons marry young and that they're encouraged to have big families.  Even at the restaurants in Salt Lake, the tables are elongated to fit larger than average sized families.

LDS Temple in DC

Visitor's Center in DC

When I walked into the visitor's center, I was introduced two two sisters who showed me around and answered my questions.  One of the things they were proud to show me was a 3D printed model of the inside of a Mormon Temple.  Presently, there are only two of these models in the world, one in DC and the other in Salt Lake City.

The sisters explained several of the rooms in the temple.  They focused on the rooms for marriage ceremonies.  The Latter Day Saints temple marriage ceremonies seal a marriage for eternity.  They believe that if you marry in the temple, that you and your partner will be partners eternally.  You can do this with your children as well, and then you and your whole family will be together eternally.

3D Printed model of LDS Temple

The first thing that occurred to me when I heard this was, "Okay, but what if you decide at 40 that you don't want to live with this spouse for eternity?  What if a lifetime is long enough?  What if you divorce?"  I asked whether the Latter Day Saints encourage their young to put off temple marriage until they're certain that they've married the right person.  "We usually perform the wedding in the temple."  The first wedding is usually the temple wedding with state papers signed afterward.  This struck me as odd, especially since the Mormons tend to marry so young.  I wonder how they rate their marriages in surveys when compared to other groups.  I haven't bothered to look this up.

The reason Latter Day Saints value family so much, even in the afterlife, has to do with their view of God.  As mentioned in a previous post, they believe that God was once a man like us.  He is still a man today.  At some point during our discussion my jaw dropped.  "Wait a minute," I said.  "You believe that God has a wife!" I was excited to have figured this out for myself.  "We do," I was told.  "It's not something we like to talk about.  God loves his wife so much and doesn't want people taking her name in vane or treating her rudely."

The Book of Mormon: the Primary LDS revelation

Whatever one thinks of this, it coheres theologically with the rest of LDS beliefs.  God wants them to have sealed families just like He did.  He also wants them to be fruitful and multiply, just like He did.  This is what beings made in the Image of God are supposed to do.  And like Him, if they do things right, they mature to be like Him.

As I thought about their theology, I couldn't help but wonder what life is like in the typical Mormon home.  How are their families better off compared with non-Mormon families?  How are they worse off?  I expect that with bigger families, there's a better ability to create intra-family self-reliance.  This might explain the libertarian streak among Latter Day Saints.  As the same time, there has to be a lot of pressure on women to have children.  What about the women who don't want to be mothers?  What about the women who aren't able?

The Problem with Failed Seals

The other thing I noticed was this.  Sealing your family members is supposed to mean that you are together forever.  However, if your family members fall away from the faith or are less than decent Mormons, they may find themselves on a different level of heaven than the rest of the family.  This seemed contradictory to me.  After all, if you're on the same level of heaven then you're already together and sealing should be irrelevant.  On the other hand, if different levels of heaven can divide families then the seal isn't very effective. I write this less as a criticism than in hopes that someone can clear it up for me.  Any LDS folks out there reading this?  Feel free to chime in.

Even if it can't be cleared up.  I don't see this as a reason for serious criticism.  Most beliefs are coherent until one starts applying questions from the outside.

How I Became a Humanist #6: Emanuel's House: How a Good Church Experience Ruins All Others

Between the year 2000 and 2003, I learned and experienced many things that challenged both my faith in Church of Christ doctrine, and led to me questioning Christianity as a whole.  The next several posts in this series are dedicated to those years.  Attending Emanuel's House was one of the key experiences.

Emanuel's House was by far the best church I have ever had.  Although the church no longer exists, I still consider myself a member; I'm not alone in this.  Emanuel's House (Ehouse) grew out of a prayer group that was started in Luke's house in the fall of 1999.  The group grew and formed a church the following spring.

It was a small church led and attended mostly by college students.  We met in the afternoons, which allowed me to lead a retirement home ministry with my friend Mal and to visit different kinds of churches.  Our members came from a variety of different Christian theological traditions.  The diversity within the group was fertile ground for my curious mind.

This wasn't the only thing that was unique about Ehouse.  Several of us were ministry or theology students.  The role of preaching and teaching was shared between a handful of talented and thoughtful people.  We often discussed the message as a group after the sermon was over, finding life application, adding nuance and sometimes even debating.  The exercise created community, inspired tolerance and taught critical thinking.

A Typical Emanuel's House Fellowship, well, kind of

After service, we went to someone's house for fellowship.  We'd play games, worship or do some kind of service together.  Often all three things would be going on at once.  We became part of each other's daily lives.  If one of us was in the hospital, members showed up in droves.  We got each other jobs, paid each other's bills and helped each other move.  We were family.  Many of us still are.

For me, Ehouse was something of a playground.  We had several theologians.  Among them, I was the one always pressing the envelop in some form or fashion.  I've always been both something of a zealot and a moving target.  I latch onto big ideas, dice them up, and synthesize them with what I already know before moving onto something else.  This gives me both multi-perspectival depth on a wide range of issues.  It's also a bit taxing to the people around me.  (Thought slightly less zealous, I can't say that I've changed #ENTP).

Ehouse gave me a fair amount of leeway when it came to trying new things.  Sometimes they worked; sometimes they didn't.

It also gave me plenty of people with whom I could work out new ideas: people who challenged me, fed me new information and experiences, and people who teased out different ideas through intense and ongoing conversations.

The bad thing about Ehouse is that after leaving, I never was able to find anything like it again.  I sometimes had the opportunity to work with amazing people, but the sort of community and openness to new ideas was something I was unable to find.  

Assembly of God Revival in Eastpointe, Michigan

*The following post is different from others in this series, because I had the experience when I was a much younger person when it occurred.*

One autumn day during my undergrad years, Joe and I were playing hacky sack at a park in Eastpointe.  At one point, we decided to go for a walk.  Along the way, I found myself needing a restroom.  That's when I saw the Eastpointe Assembly of God.  It wasn't Sunday or Wednesday, but there were plenty of cars in the parking lot.  I stopped in.

When I walked through the door I was met by one of the church members who acted somewhat like a guard.  With reservation, he led me to the restroom.  On my way out, I could hear a lot of excitement from the auditorium.  At the time I wasn't too familiar with the Assemblies of God.  The guard explained that they were having a revival.  I asked Joe if he would mind sticking around for the experience.

The church pews were wooden, not dissimilar to this.

We walked into the sanctuary and sat close to the back row.  People sang and danced.  They spoke in tongues during moments of prayer.  Up to this point, I'd never seen anything like it.  Then a middle-aged white man approached the pulpit.  He spoke enthusiastically about miracles.  He claimed to have seen the blind healed and the dead resurrected.  It was a message intended to rouse the faithful.  In the midst of it, he casually mentioned that in order for people to be saved, they needed to speak in tongues.  Disagreeing strongly, I became fixated on this point.

The worship service was followed by a healing service.  This is the first time I'd seen anything like it. The evangelist stood at the front of the sanctuary and people came forward for prayers and healing.  I only remember two individuals specifically.  The first was an old woman who complained of having trouble seeing.  The evangelist laid hands on her, prayed and then asked if she noticed a difference.  She said "yes."  I did not see happiness on her face.  A young woman about 14 or 15 also came forward.  She explained that she was having a problem with acne.  She felt insecure.  The evangelist prayed that she would "notice a difference" in her complexion.

The service ended and we approached the front of the auditorium.  I spoke with their youth minister, who explained that most young people in the Assemblies of God did not feel that speaking in tongues was necessary for salvation, but that most older people in the fellowship felt otherwise.  There are theological generation gaps in every religious community.

Big Boy's or Elias Brothers is a popular family restaurant in Michigan and nearby states

We met the evangelist who invited us to join himself and the pastor at Big Boy's Restaurant at 9 Mile and Gratiot for dinner.  We road in their car.  At the restaurant, we chatted about religion and no doubt shared our different perspectives on tongues and salvation.  It was a pleasant talk.  When our meeting adjourned, the evangelist paid for our meals.

On the way back to the church building where they dropped us off, the evangelist mentioned something that shocked me at the time.  He exclaimed the the earth really was billions of years old.  I didn't believe this, yet.  He himself didn't want to, but claimed that the evidence was overwhelming.  We prayed together and the night adjourned.  I experience gave me plenty to meditate on.

Comparing Baha'i with Christianity

When I visited the Baha'i Center in DC two weeks ago, I found myself comparing the Baha'i faith with Christianity.  I suppose this is only natural.  As I did this, I found several similarities.  This is especially true if one views Christianity through the lens of the early church.  Here are just a few observations.

• The Baha'i meet in houses, just like the earliest Christians
• They often have central houses for larger Sunday meetings, but not always
• During the week they meet in each other's houses for meals
• The main house is used for community events during the week (like AA meetings or yoga).
• They emphasize charitable work
• Early Christians stayed behind during plagues to care for the sick
• They paid for burial for the poor and took in orphans
• The Baha'i actively work on justice issues in their neighborhoods
• Like early Christians, they strongly encourage adoption
• They emphasize fellowship
• Early Christian worship usually involved a communal meal that culminated in the Eucharist
• The Baha'i Center is built for fellowship.
• The Baha'i meet in each other's homes for a meal during the week.  They call these Fireside chats.

Even their claim that Baha'i is a successor to previous revelations is a Christian theological move. From the beginning Christians have claimed that their religion was a natural successor to Judiasm, and that their savior fulfilled Jewish prophesy.  The Baha'is claim that Baha'ullah is the return of Jesus, because Jesus comes again and again to different cultures with different names.  They claim that Baha'i is the fulfillment of the prophesy that Jesus would come again.  And just like Christians see the Old Testament as instructive, but not binding because it's part of an older covenant, the Baha'is see older scriptures as instructive, but not binding because they are part of earlier revelations for earlier time periods.

While Christians didn't adopt non-Jewish scriptures, their early apologists sometimes claimed that Jesus was the fulfillment of pagan religions hopes or even prophesies.

• Paul claims that his God is the unknown God that pagans are worshiping Act 17:23
• Zoroastrian Magi visit Jesus in Matthew 2
• The Zoroastrians had a prophesy that the Savior would be born of a virgin
• They also believed in a Holy Spirit through which goodness is revealed - the ideas are not identical.
• Matthew doesn't directly say that Jesus is the fulfillment of Zoroastrian prophesy, but this is probably the only logical conclusion to draw.  

The place that I found the traditions most aligned, however, was in the idea of the Kingdom of Heaven.  When talking about the Kingdom of Heaven, Jesus preaches a certain kind of moral life.  It's one where the peacemakers, rather than the war hawks, are honored.  It's one where his followers don't judge, because the standard they use will be used against them.  It's one where they love their neighbors and their enemies.  Jesus' Kingdom of Heaven is a new social order his followers bring to earth through faith, love and action.

Baha'is also use the term "Kingdom of Heaven."  I'm not sure if they mean the same thing, but the idea of God's servants bringing peace and justice to the world through love, action and faith is a dominant Baha'i theme.

The two religions fail to see eye-to-eye in several respects.  Most Christians see Jesus as God, but Baha'i see his as a divine man/being who continually returns to humanity to reveal God's will.  Christians are not likely to accept the idea of Jesus returning as a teacher, rather than a divine being calling them up into the sky.
Baha'is don't seem to think that Jesus died for the removal of their sins.  I didn't ask.  The topic never came up.  Evangelicals in particular are unlikely to agree with the Baha'i understanding of Heaven and Hell.  Most Evangelicals believe that Jesus (as defined by Christianity) is the only way to Heaven.  Several even believe that their particular sect of Christianity is the only sure guarantee.  Baha'is, on the other hand, think that one's spiritual development on earth will continue along the same path in the afterlife, regardless of dogma.

Certainly other comparisons and contrasts could be made, but I know too little to say more.

If you enjoyed reading this, please like, subscribe and share.
Thank you!

If you have a religious tradition you'd like to learn more about, let me know in the comments below and I'll try to visit and write about it.

My Neighbor's Faith: The Friends (Quakers)

I wanted to catch an early service this morning, so I chose the 7:30 am Friends' meeting in downtown DC.

I approached the house and buzzed the doorbell.  A young man with a German accent answered.  I explained that this was my first time attending a Friend's meeting.  He brought me into room where several chairs faced each other in a circle. He was not a Quaker either, but had come from Germany to do charity work in retribution for Germany's crimes during WWII and was working with the Friends to assist with social justice work.  We shared a Friends worship service which involved sitting together in silence for about 30 minutes.

The Friends believe that since all humans are made in God's Image, that God communicates with all of them - all we need to do is listen.  So their worship services involve sitting together and listening.  If God speaks to an individual, that individual might share the message with the community gathered.  Anyone can speak, but no one has to.

The chairs facing each other reflects their view of equality.  The Friends don't have clergy in the same way that most churches do.  Instead they have councils that help make them make decisions.  I don't understand this very well yet.

My German friend and I were the only ones participating in silence with God, but there were several other people moving about the house.  The house is used for a variety of social justice related events throughout the week.  They even have a hostel there with about 30 beds.  They charge little to nothing for people who need a place to stay.  There were several people waking as I was about to leave, probably in attendance from the Women's March on Washington.


Before we parted ways, my friend asked me what had brought me out today.  "I learned about the Friends in undergrad," I said.  "I was impressed by the fact that they emphasized equality in the 1600s.  I've always wanted to visit, so here I am."  He expressed a similar sentiment, then recommended that I visit one of the larger gatherings to learn more and get a better experience of how the community worships. I expect that I will do that sometime soon.

My Neighbor's Religion #4: Baha'i Center in Washington DC (Part 3): Beliefs and Practice

Baha'is believe that they Christians.  They also believe that they are Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Hindus and Zoroastrians.  I was told by several members of the DC Center that one doesn't convert to Baha'i.  Instead, accepting Baha'i is simply accepting the next revelation from God (That from the prophet Baha' u'llah).  They accept all the revelations.  They follow all the teachers.

The basic idea is as follows.  God has sent messengers to humanity at various times throughout history.  These messengers come with a revelation from God that humanity (and in particular that culture) is ready for at the time.  Baha'is believe that more revelations yet are to come.

New Revised Standard Version Bible on the right

These beliefs were evident in several ways during my visit.  One of the first things I noticed when I entered the worship area was a large shelf of books.  There were, of course, several books having to do with the Baha'i faith.  There were also several having to do with racial reconciliation, a theme that could be seen throughout the building.  What really caught my eye was an NRSV translation of the New Testament.

I began looking for other texts and immediately saw scriptures from several religions.  Even in worship, the Baha'is sang about being guided by Jesus, Buddha, Zoroaster, etc. It became clear in the few hours I spent with them that this belief enables them to draw on a wide variety of religious traditions, and that the Baha'is do just that.

I wondered what they thought about people who heard their message and chose to remain in their previous religious traditions.  "That's fine," they told me.  "Our duty is to share the message, not convert people,"  adding that each person is on her or her own path, and that the old revelations and traditions aren't rendered obsolete by the new one.  So if someone remains Christian, that person should be a good Christian.  For the Baha'i, doctrine matters, but it's secondary to loving God and loving your neighbor.  Service to humanity is the highest act of worship.  I found this incredibly compelling.

The strong belief in a unified humanity is another tenet of the Baha'i faith.  They consider themselves unified with all people regardless of race, gender, culture, religion or political persuasion.  They believe that we are one humanity and should work towards unity.  We must eliminate prejudice and work towards peace and justice both locally and globally.  Literature on these topics could be found throughout the house.

Finally, instead of clergy, the Baha'i have committees that make organizational decisions at various levels.  These positions are temporary.  Anyone can be nominated - seeking office is forbidden.  I knew this attending, nevertheless, the structure of the meeting made me puzzled me.  Unlike every other fellowship of any kind that I've ever visited, I was unsure who was in charge.  Leaderlessness is the norm in their faith, where no one is meant to have spiritual authority over another.

Statue of Krisha of Hinduism

A Hindu attitude towards morality permeates what it taught by the Baha'i faith.  Rather than God expecting perfection, God expects growth towards more superior forms of morality and respect for other people's respective journeys.  They seem to believe that growth continues in the afterlife.  The exact details were unclear, but it reminded me of a cross between what C.S. Lewis portrays in The Chronicles of Narnia and the theosis of Irenaeus of Lyons.

I am happy to have met the Baha'is and hope to learn more about them in the near future.

If you enjoyed this please like, subscribe and share.
Thanks!

My Neighbor's Faith #3: Baha'i Center in Washington DC (Part 2): The People

The Baha'i Temple in Haifa, Israel

A WARM FELLOWSHIP

When I entered the Baha'i Center, I was greeted by a man who showed me to a place to sit where we chatted until other people began to arrive.  As they did, I met and chatted with more and more people.  They were so easy to talk to that one fellow and I were actually late to the beginning of the service.

This chatting continued for some time after the service adjourned.  By the end of it, I was rather well acquainted with 10 people.  I remember their names, know where some of them work and have email contact with three of them.  I've emailed all three, and all three have responded.  Needless to say, I spent a lot of time talking with people there.  Hours flew by socializing on chairs and cushioned benches.  I would have stayed longer if circumstances had allowed.

A DIVERSE COMMUNITY

It was, without any doubt, the most racially diverse group of people I'd ever seen in any location ever.  This is not an exaggeration.  And when I think of the fact that there were almost certainly less than 70 people present, I am still in shock as to how this is possible.  The number of men and women seemed about equal - as did their status within the group.  The attendees were a rainbow of different skin colors and no one pigment seemed to dominate.  Even the age of those present varied with plenty of children in attendance.  I've never seen anything quite like it.

RELAXED

Like most lively religious groups, the Bahais were happy to share their religion with another person, but it wasn't forceful.  "It's not our job to convert people," I was told.  They weren't even mildly condescending when I described myself as a Humanist - not a single one of them.  There are theological reasons for why this is so -

1.  They seem to see spiritual development as more important than dogma.  
2. he highest act of worship is service to humanity, what Christians call "Loving one's neighbor."  
3. They don't believe one person ought to control another.  It's their job to love, not to compel others into belief.  (Ironically, I found this rather compelling). 

Interacting with the Baha'i Community was refreshing to the point of it almost being weird.  I felt warm inside.

My Neighbor's Faith #2: Baha'i Center in Washington DC (Part 1) Faith and Furniture

On 15 January, 2017, I had the opportunity to meet with the Baha'i Center in Washington DC.  It was great experience and so much happened that it will take several posts to discuss it well.  Today, I'd just like to discuss what I saw in the building and how it reflects the Baha'i faith as I experienced it.

Bahai Center in DC from the front of the building

The Baha'i meet in a large house that has at least three stories.  Even though I was there for more than 3 hours, I only had time to see the main floor, which was divided up into two main rooms with a kitchen, hallway and bathroom.  One of the main rooms was meant to contain the main service, while the other was designed for fellowship.

The worship service room had chairs that were largely oriented towards a lectern, however they were also arranged in such a way as to create a certain sense of community.  The chairs at the side walls face inward, for example, and since today was a day of worship and prayer the chairs at the front two rows of the room faced backward toward.  I expect a greater sense of community would have been created if the space was available for it - the room was long and narrow.  In the back of service room, there was something of a multi-purpose fellowship area.  It had open space that allowed for pacing, playing toddlers and mothers who might walk around rocking their babies - I saw several of these things go on during the service.  This back area also had well cushioned bench chairs.

The fellowship room had a food table in the center, with another table for drinks, plates and utensils in a corner of the room.  This did not seem to be a special arrangement, giving the impression that the Bahai celebrate their fellowship with food whenever they meet.  It reminds of something out of Acts 2.  Like the service room, the walls were lined with cushioned bench chairs.  They were as comfortable as you would expect a nice couch to be.  When I was there, they were serving tea, fruits and vegetables, small bread pieces, and a few sweets and sliced meats.  The meal provided was balanced, healthy and light - and like everything else allowed for easy socializing.

The furniture alone made a strong theological statement.  "We find God in each other."  I don't know if the Baha'i would say those words, but I seriously doubt that they would deny them.  In any case, the warmth reflected in the house arrangement was palpable among the people both as they sang and prayed and as they fellowshiped before and after the service.  What I felt in the room is the same thing that Christians often call the Holy Spirit in their services.  It's a kind of communal intimacy with the group and the divine that can be felt throughout the whole body.  It's difficult to describe.

Growing Past Condescension

When I look over the first essay in my series How I became a Humanist: Jesus Freaks in the Churches of Christ, I think it would be easy for a reader to assume that I look down on members of the Churches of Christ for holding different values than I do.  At one time I certainly did.

For whatever reason, it's natural for us to look down on people who think differently from ourselves.  This is true not only in matters of religion and politics, but even in sports, hobbies and music where the issue of taste is almost completely arbitrary.

The fact that we look down on one another for disagreement over arbitrary things is odd enough.  What's odder is that we often look down on people who believe things we up until recently believed ourselves.  As an example, ten years ago most Americans opposed gay marriage.  Today, most Americans support it.  That's all very well.  What's not is that many of the people who've changed their minds look down on those who haven't yet adopted the new perspective.

The problem is that by looking down on people who think differently from us, we are often looking down either on our past or future selves.  We are also ignoring the fact that we have all been very wrong about things we felt very strongly about in the past and likely will be again in the future.  When I think back at some of the things I used to believe, I sometimes cringe, but I don't think this is the right response.  Past me only knew what past me knew.  He didn't deserve to be judged harshly by other then, or to be judged harshly by me today.  I don't deserve to be judged harshly for the things I don't yet know today, and neither do the people who may not know what I do about one topic or another.  This is all the more true since it is often possible that they're right even though I'm so damn sure that they're wrong.

One of the things I will tell you today is that the Roseville Church of Christ is an amazing church full of kindness and warmth.  It easy as a young person to see all the various faults in a particular ideology.  It's as easy to criticize a church, country or political party as it is to criticize your parents.  And since those behaviors are a healthy part of young adulthood, I'm glad to have gone through them.  I'm also glad to have grown past them.   Today, I realize that my teachers, preachers and fellow Church of Christ members were doing the best they could.  They were great people who were practicing and teaching those things they believed would make me a better person and the world a better place.  I love that church and its members more than I can say.  

How I became a Humanist #1: Jesus Freaks in the Churches of Christ

Much of early moral development can be framed by two seemingly non-contradictory value systems.  I was (1) raised by Jesus Freaks (2) in the Churches of Christ.  When I was young, it seemed to me that the moral lessons taught at home were the same as those taught in the church.  It wasn't until I left Christianity that I realized the moral tensions between the two environments and how that tension ultimately led to me ditching Christianity as I was familiar with it.

Roseville Church of Christ Pulpit, Lord's Supper Table and Baptistry (notice the lack of a piano).

My family went to church at  the Roseville Church of Christ at least three times a week, Sunday mornings, Sunday evenings and Wednesday nights.  If the Church had an activity that the family was able to participate in, we participated in it, whether it was a youth camp, Vacation Bible School or charity related event.  At home, we prayed before every meal, and were encouraged to read the Bible on our own.  From age 8, I did.

At church we learned typical moral lessons, don't cheat or steal,
etc.  But we were also taught that members of the Churches of Christ were probably the only people going to heaven.  The reason for us believing this was because the other churches were full of doctrinal errors.  They worshiped incorrectly.  They believed the wrong things.  And their churches were organized improperly.  While I never heard anyone say it overtly, the message delivered was that performing rituals like baptism and communion properly was more important to God than whether or not we were racists or spouse abusers.  In any case, it was adherence to the rituals and beliefs that made us Christians, even if the behaviors were considered important.

At home, on the other hand, I was taught to love all people.  My mom and grandparents both took in foster children with a wide variety of needs.  They took in kids of every race, too.  My grandparents visited the sick, and often gave more than they could afford to help those in need.  What's more, they didn't hate anyone.  We never made jokes about race, hair color or ethnicity.  We didn't even make fun of gays.  I didn't grow up with sexism either.  Additionally, my family put high stock in education and critical thinking.  My mom rarely said, "because I said so," for the things I was supposed to believe.  I was not instructed not to ask why, the way that many children are.  At home, compassion and reason were central to morality over anything else.

When I was young, the two moralities were intertwined in my mind.  I assumed that everyone at church believed the same things about loving one's neighbor and asking questions as I did.  I also assumed that my family believed the same things about God's priorities.  It didn't seem to me that the two value systems were in conflict.  During my teenage years, friction developed.  More on that later.

Christian Unity and Chapel Hill United Methodist Church

Paul the Apostle was obsessed with Christian unity.  In Ephesians and Romans, he is concerned with unity between Jewish and Gentile Christians.  In his letters to the Corinthians, he writes about unity between the rich and the poor and between those with various spiritual gifts.

Unity is the hard problem of Christianity or any other ideological institution.  From the front lawn of Chapel Hill UMC, you can see at least four churches of different denominations.  Worshiping together is hard.  People have different dogmas, cultures, and musical preferences.  Some are rich, some are poor, and education levels vary.  Unity requires compromise and discomfort.  Most of us don't want that.

So we worship in separate churches, often right across the street from one another.  Black people worship at black churches and white people at white churches.  The wealthy worship at one church, and the poor at another.  There are churches for the elderly, and churches for the young.  And when they share a building, they often have their own services.

Litany (group prayer) at Chapel Hill UMC shows concern for breaking down barriers to unity

So, when I walked into Chapel Hill's sanctuary and saw a warm friendly congregation of diverse people worshiping and working alongside one another, my religious skepticism was challenged.  My heart was warmed.

I wrote Reverend Dave, told him a little bit about myself, and shared my perceptions, he wrote back and told me that the congregation was even more diverse than it looked on the surface.  The church is both politically and economically diverse, ranching from very poor to wealthy ranchers.  "There are many in our church that don't have access to internet or computers," he said.  And somehow, they make it work.  I'm sure it's not perfect.  What is?  The first century church wasn't.  If it had been, Paul would have been writing thank you cards instead of Second Corinthians. 

If I had the chance, I would ask the members of Chapel Hill about the benefits and struggles of working and worshipping in such a diverse group.  What compromises do they have to make?  How do they think it makes them better Christians?  What have they learned from the experience?

My Neighbor's Faith: Chapel Hill United Methodist (UMC) San Antonio 13 July 2014

CHAPEL HILL UNITED METHODIST 

 SAN ANTONIO, TX

One of the most important factors in choosing a church is the people who attend.  Studies show that if a person hasn't connected with about six people on the first Sunday they attend a church, they are unlikely to return.

We were greeted the moment we walked in the door.  They were assigned greeters, but I felt that their greetings were sincere, especially since they took some time to tell us a little bit about the church.  "We're a very diverse group here", one man told us.  The greetings kept coming as we got further in the building and made our way towards the auditorium.  People introduced themselves, asked whether it was our first time there and whether we were new to San Antonio.  They were warm and seemed generally interested in us.  They didn't try to shove the church down our throat, but they did go out of their way to make us feel welcome.  Towards the end of the service, they gave all of the first-time visitors a small loaf of banana bread as a welcoming gift.

Like the greeter said, it was a diverse group.  The church had members of all ages, and while I won't claim that they had members of all races, there was a healthy mix of white, black and Hispanic folks there.  The demographics looked a lot like the demographics of America, generally speaking.  It was a refreshing sight.

Front and center of the auditorium was the communion table, above it, a cross and to the left a podium all of them decorated for Pentecost.  On either side of the auditorium were two large projector screens upon which were projected announcements, hymn lyrics, and scriptures.  The choir box was in a corner and faced the church as a whole diagonally.  A television with faced the choir so that they could face the church while singing adding to a feeling of community.

That, alongside the fact that the pastor generally spoke from the same level at which the congregation sat gave the impression of a strong egalitarianism within the church that was echoed by almost constant participation from the members at every moment throughout the service.  They even had an open mic period during which members could discuss how God had acted in their lives during the week.  I thought this was profoundly open, since you never know what sorts of crazy things people are inclined to say, or whether or not they will cohere with the theology of the church, or of the pastor.  This tells me that a theology of open participation is more important to this congregation than complete orthodoxy.  Perhaps one might say that participation is orthodoxy, even when we err.  But now, perhaps, I'm putting words into the mouths of these kind folks, and I ought not do that.

Throughout the service we were impressed by a church that is willing to participate with the world around it.  Sarah counted at least 3 ongoing charitable projects mentioned in the announcements including assembling health care kits for immigrants in Laredo, and collecting socks and underwear for school children in need, and their high school group did a mission trip where they helped repair a flooded home in Eagle Pass. If that weren't enough we found others that the church was dedicated to when we toured the building.  Most noticeably, the church helps foster children, they hold a pantry from which frequently give food to the poor, and they had a pamphlet for Alcoholics Anonymous that was located in the bathroom, where no one would notice if an individual happened to pocket it.

And it wasn't just that.  Even the sermon addressed issues pertinent to the world.  The pastor chose the story of Jericho as his text.  At first, he brought the children up and showed them a veggie tales version of the story.  I liked the message he gave to the children, although I thought it was rather sanitized.  At the end of the veggie tales version, the citizens of Jericho flee.  That's not how the biblical account works.  The biblical account is a story of genocide.  It's a story that most Christians explain away by suggesting that all the people who were displaced and killed were evil.  Never mind the fact that this includes children, it's hard to imagine a functional city full of evil people.  Is Somalia nothing but evil people?  What about Detroit?  We know better, but those places would fall to an invading army.  Any society that can build large walls and survive a siege is functional, which means the members of that society have a certain amount of trust in each other, which means that they aren't deserving of being genocide victims, if any group of people ever were.

The pastor addressed this head on, and without any nonsense.  He said that he didn't understand the moral implications of the text, and that he didn't have any arguments against the skeptics concerning this text or texts like it in the Bible.  "I don't know who that God is who sanctions genocide, but I know who Jesus is."  He admits the seeming discrepancy between the Old and New Testaments on issues like this.  I loved the honesty.  The willingness to ask a profound question and then say in front of a congregation, "I don't know."  That's rare intellectual honesty.  That's a willingness to step outside the church walls and engage the world without a pretending to have a monopoly on truth or even on a valid perspective.  He didn't even place blame at the feet of people who couldn't overcome this cognitive dissonance.  He didn't threaten them with hell or challenge the integrity of their character.  And concerning the aforementioned explanations typically used by Christians he says, "none of these explanations hold water."

At the same time, it wasn't an abdication of faith.  The pastor maintained that he and his fellow Christians were believers in and followers of Jesus.  They didn't need to have to have all the answers, and they didn't always have to reconcile everything in scripture.  Scripture was a guide, an important guide, but just a guide to Jesus.  "We don't worship THIS," he said, holding up a bible.  "We worship the risen Lord."

For those of you who aren't students of theology, none of what I've mentioned here stands outside of the Methodist tradition.  Sarah, who grew up Methodist even says that the order of worship was almost identical to what the services she grew up with.   The following is something of an example of this consistency and of the use of the technology.  The following is a prayer common to Methodists in the UMC.  For those of you who are Evangelicals, it will look very progressive.  For those of you who are humanists, I think you'd be pleasantly surprised.



All in all, our experience there was positive.  The people were nice and the church had what I consider to be a healthy and balanced theology.  I think this church would be a great family for any Christian looking for a diverse, thoughtful, compassionate community that is active in charity.