Having been exploring the nature of faith and belief this past year with the hope explaining how my views have shifted on the matter over the last several years, in this post I’d like to offer some final thoughts of sorts, summarizing much that has been outlined previously and, for all intents and purposes, drawing the first major “chapter” of my blog to a close. Although I hope to start a second “chapter” and explore how my views have evolved on other issues as well (especially how I’ve come to see the Bible), I plan to take a hiatus to rest my mind (and fingers!) and help gather my thoughts before doing so. As such, this post can in many ways serve as a preliminary conclusion to my blog thus far. There is much more that could be said, of course, however my goal (as always) is to highlight the mountain peaks, with perhaps a glimmer here and there of some of the terrain below and in between. That said, there’s probably no better place to start a conclusion to my blog than to revisit the very core idea which ultimately drives it.

In that vein, then, let me suggest that I’ve come to see that Christianity, at its core, is about one’s relationship with God far more than it is about one’s set of theological beliefs. I truly believe that Christianity, in its purest form, will embrace all truth wherever it is found and however people have come to apprehend it, whether through Christian teaching or elsewhere. I also believe that every denomination or branch within Christianity contains at least some (and perhaps even a great deal of) valuable truth, but that none contains all truth. Each mirrors, at its best, something of Christ, but all are ultimately only caricatures of him in the end. As such, I think the most valuable thing one can take away from the increasing arguments and disagreements amongst people today is the value of growing to better understand and love one another, regardless of belief. Whether past, present, or future, the foundational commitment of Christianity and the ultimate essence of the Christian life as I have come to see it is simply this: to love God and to love one another. Theological opinion may very well be important to some degree or another, but it is one’s commitment to love God and neighbor that matters more than any piece of theology (however true or important). As I have come to see things, our sense of unity should not be based on theological or doctrinal agreement (whether on the majors or the minors), but rather on a shared commitment to live the type of life that Christ has called us to.

As such, I think that all questions regarding the truth of certain theological doctrines or dogmas (although perhaps extremely important to a robust and sound theology) are not necessary to actually living out the Christian life. Again, where in the Gospels are we ever told that Christ demanded belief in some theological proposition before he would admit a seeker into discipleship? The answer is that he never did. Belief in a person, yes. I believe in a host of my friends and I love and trust them as a result, but friendship does not involve my agreeing with the intellectual positions which they hold (or which others hold about them). I truly believe that if even a single ray of light reaches a person from Christ, penetrates into their being and influences their way of living, that such a person is further along the road towards true belief in him than if they gave their unreflecting assent to a multitude of orthodox propositions which have no perceptible effect upon their life. The disciple Peter, as I see it, was a Christian the moment he accepted the invitation of Christ to “follow me.” He likely knew nothing of many of the doctrines which Christians have since taken to be “essential” to the faith (e.g. the Virgin Birth, the Trinity, etc.). And this is as it should be, for a Christian is simply someone who responds to the call of Christ, the challenging call to follow him in the unending pursuit of love for God and all of God’s creation. Yet so often we try and add so much more. First this dogma, then that doctrine, and soon after a whole litany of other theological nuances which we then demand others to believe before they are allowed the label of “Christian.” As controversial as it may (or may not) be, this seems far indeed from the attitude of Christ.

I’ve heard far too many stories about people who seemed hungry for all that Christ could offer, but who were brushed off by a either a pastor or follower of Christ because they could not accept some “essential” belief. Yet, as far as I can tell, Jesus wouldn’t have turned them away. Indeed, he never required belief in any of the above for his followers. In short, we still make things necessary to believe which Christ did not. And this goes not just for the theological dogmas mentioned above, as I see it, but for nearly every other doctrine about which not even a reverent agnosticism is typically even allowed. Yet who can establish the criteria to judge whether or not the Holy Spirit is really active in a human heart to which God is only just beginning to work on? Or who would wish to propose a criteria of membership which in certain circumstances would exclude precisely those whom God has, in secret, already begun to draw? As I see it, the emphasis upon adhering to some dogmatic confession can deceive one just as much as the entire absence of any such thing – if not moreso. Indeed, it is this unfair demand that to be a Christian one must “believe” this and that intellectual proposition which has put so many thoughtful and lovable people off. “Must” and “believe” are words that should never go together. Some blame people for not going to church, and call them pagan, or indifferent, or materialistic, or careless, or ignorant, etc., but the truth is that Christianity as they see it does not seem relevant to their needs or their outlook. Why? Because it is all too often presented in a way that is too focused on adherence to a given system of beliefs than it is on the lifelong pursuit (and experience) of a loving relationship with God and others.

My heart aches when I hear stories like this, and it makes me wonder for how much longer the world will put up with the distortions with which the joyous and essentially simple message of Christ has been overlaid. It reminds me of the legend about the pipe which Moses the shepherd played when he gathered Jethro’s sheep on the hillsides of Midian. For those not familiar, according to the legend, as the years passed this pipe was treasured and revered and even became a relic to be adored. In time, however, its simple structure seemed too plain and so workmen overlaid it with gold, leading it to be highly respected but in a state where it could no longer be played – its clear note was ruined and as a musical instrument it was rendered useless. So too, it seems to me, has the simple message of Christ been overlaid. Take all the nuances of the various creeds, ceremonies, and doctrines to start, and then couple that with all of the endless denominational squabbles, infighting, intolerances, etc. and one can hardly even catch the message of Jesus or be lifted up and strengthened by its beauty and power anymore. It wouldn’t be nearly as frustrating if it wasn’t also so tragic. For every declaration of that message – that the “Kingdom of God”, e.g. God’s loving/just rule on earth as it is in heaven, is “at hand” and available to all who seek it – should bring the listener into communion with the living God. If it did, that listener would find love kindled in their heart for every man, woman, and child in the world. They would find that their pride and self-assertion, their cleverness and their wealth, had become all but meaningless to them. They would feel humbled to the dust and yet exalted to the stars. They would know that they are loved, and they would feel that even their pain could be woven into a plan. All resentment, all rebellion, all grievance would vanish. They would know that they were in the presence of the God who so called forth their adoration and love that they could put down all their problems knowing that a mighty purpose enfolded all lives and would bring them at last to a goal, not just satisfying, but glorious beyond their power to imagine or conceive. And yet, such a person is all too often robbed of that reality because they have mistakenly been led to see the essence of the Christian faith as an adherence to a system of beliefs rather than a life marked by the pursuit (and experience) of unconditional love.

Again, I’m not saying that theological beliefs are useless or unimportant, but let us not put a blindfold on the blind in an attempt to help them see and then call it a virtue. For even a little child, knowing himself loved, cannot understand or be made to understand the activities of his father. And how unloving would it be to tell him that he “must believe” this or that about his father, or to cast him out of the family because he could not honestly do so? And yet, at her worst, the Church seems to do something very much like this to so many. “You must think this or that,” it thunders. You “must believe” or be cast out. But surely, in so many matters, a reverent agnosticism is the only place where the honest person can rest their mind. After all, the gap between a child’s comprehension and his father’s activities is surely nothing compared with the gap between the wisest man’s understanding and the scope of God’s activity. A deep sense of humility, especially when coupled with a deep sense of love, is perhaps one of the greatest virtues of all, as I have come to see things. I believe passionately that Christianity is a way of life, not a theological system with which one must be in intellectual agreement – that Christ would admit into discipleship anyone who sincerely desired to follow him, and to allow that disciple to make his/her creed out of their experience (just as the original disciples once did); to listen, to consider, to pray, to follow, and ultimately to believe only those convictions about which the experience of fellowship with Christ made them sure. Indeed, this is precisely how a person falls in love. They could not write a creed about their loved one at the beginning. They find someone whose life they would like to share, and, if their loved one is willing, and as fellowship deepens, they come to believe certain things about them. Then, and only then, can they write their creed about their loved one, and it is of far more value than if it were imposed upon them by someone else at the beginning as a condition of “belonging” to them. The beginnings of the Christian life, as I see it, has much in common with falling in love – only where your loved one is none other than Christ himself.

That said, and to bring everything thus far to a close, if my story or blog were to have one major takeaway for you as a reader, it would be this: If you are a seeker, don’t exclude yourself from the fellowship of Christ and his followers simply because of theological difficulties – if you genuinely love Christ and his message and are seeking to follow him, take an attitude of Christian agnosticism to any doctrinal issues and learn as much as you are willing to on the so-called “essentials” of the Christian faith, but only accept those things which gradually seem to you to be true, leaving the rest in a mental box labeled “awaiting further light” – and if you are a “believer,” leave some space for the seekers around you and don’t cause them to stumble by placing the unnecessary burden upon them of having to “believe” such and such doctrine to be true in order to have “faith” or to welcome them into fellowship as they seek to follow Christ. In the meantime, and for all who are willing (regardless of beliefs), consider joining me in spreading Christ’s spirit of love for God and for all of God’s creation – for this, I believe, is the most important thing in the world.

Until we meet again, thanks again for reading and – as always – stay curious, seek truth, and love well.

Much Love and a Happy New Year to All,