The Five Core Commitments of My Worldview: 5) A Christianity Centered on Jesus

Introduction

Per my fifth commitment, I believe in a form of Christianity that is informed by my four prior commitments and, in that context, centered on Jesus.

Readers will recall that my four prior commitments included commitments to evidence and experience (and truth), embodied well-being, love and justice, and a God who is primarily loving.

Informed By…

I believe in a Christianity that is informed by these first four commitments because, on the one hand, they are just very well evidenced, as I have briefly contended. They are much better evidenced than the more specific and controversial claims of Christianity. I would believe in them whether I was a Christian or not.

On the other hand, we have good reasons to question much within traditional Christianity. I reject some traditional Christian claims, and think others should too – based on evidence. And I even think it is possible Jesus was mistaken on some things.

I hasten to add that in my view: 1) the Bible contains a core message within it that God has been progressively revealing, accommodating it to humanity’s growing (if imperfect) understandings as he “stoops down” to remain in a covenantal relationship with us. 2) I don’t think Jesus was wrong about about many things, I think he was right about most things and the most important things (otherwise I would not embrace him as Lord). 3) My starting presumption is that Jesus was right apart from strong reasons to think otherwise. And 4) I think there is room in orthodoxy and the doctrine of the incarnation for Jesus to be a man of his times on some things, to be fallible and mistaken, and to grow in wisdom and stature and favor with God and man.

I will survey some of the reasons I’ve questioned Christianity and some of the areas where I think it must be rethought. But I will also explain why, even in the face of all that, I still choose to embrace a form Christianity – and why I think this is reasonable and consistent.

So when I say centered on Jesus, implicit in that is that my four prior commitments (and especially my commitment to evidence and experience) inform and bound that centering.

Centered On Jesus

If that explains the “informed by…” part of my fifth commitment, what do I mean by the “centered on Jesus” part?

I believe that God at least works through Christianity – as I believe he is able to do in other religions as well. I believe that Jesus was at least a good human teacher and example. Although I ultimately find a mere “good teacher” view of Jesus less than satisfactory, I believe a version of it is defensible (contra conservative apologists). But third, for a number of reasons I have further come to embrace a nuanced form of the creedal/orthodox view of Jesus as God incarnate.

I have at least seven specific ways my Christianity is centered on Jesus:

I believe that being Jesus-centered means centering on Jesus’ entire being and activity – including his life, teachings, death, and resurrection – rather than only emphasizing his death in a way that isolates it from his fuller restorative ministry.

I believe that Jesus is the truest representation of what God is like, especially God’s moral character, and thus, he should be at the center of our thinking about God and inform our evaluation of different pictures of God (including other Biblical ones).

I believe that Jesus’ teachings, example, and values should guide how we live and also serve as the “norming norm” for how we evaluate the Bible’s broader moral teaching.

I believe Jesus’ way of reading the Bible, with his distinctive emphases and subversive reinterpretations, should guide how we read it and what we appropriate out of it.

I believe that Jesus life, teachings, death, and resurrection provide the basis of our salvation and that becoming connected to Jesus and his way by faith and following after him is the (normative) means of our salvation.

I believe that Jesus is at the center of prophetic fulfillment: he fulfills the deeper meaning behind Israel’s law and prophetic expectations; he redefines God’s people to include those of every nation who embrace him; he widens the land promises to encompass the whole earth; and he definitively reveals God’s saving righteousness as he enacts and rules in God’s kingdom.

I believe that Jesus is at the center of how we should understand God’s sovereignty: His incarnational life and cruciform death reveal a God who uses his sovereignty to seek, serve, and save others rather than exploit them. He is God’s truest elect one, and others can become elect by becoming “in Christ,” their corporate/covenant representative, by faith and following after him.

Doubts About Christianity and Jesus

Let me turn now to some of the reasons I have struggled with Christianity and where I think it must be rethought. After that, I will explain the reasons I chose to embrace a progressive Christianity centered on Jesus.

Growing up and as a young adult, I read a bunch of Christian writing that attempted to prove the existence of God, the truth of Christianity and the Bible, and defend these things from outside attacks. I once found this quite compelling. But wider reading and reflection began to undermine this confidence.

Doubts About God

Lets start with the question of the existence of God. Growing up, some people told me that I should not read authors with “unbelieving” presuppositions (or that I should only read them to debunk them). But I came to see this as close-minded and biased; a terrible way to engage others or get at truth.

I was taught that scientific evidence disproved evolution and supported “Biblical” young earth creationism. Later I also became enamored with arguments for intelligent design in nature. However, further study showed me that the evidence for an old earth and evolution of some sort was overwhelming. While I still think there might be merit to some teleological arguments for God’s existence, intelligent design arguments are undermined by the expanding explanatory power of naturalism and by poor and malevolent seeming “design” in nature.

I was taught that cosmological arguments proved the necessity of God as a “first cause” of the universe. While I still think there may be something to cosmological arguments for God, I became more aware of their potential problems and I have become skeptical that we can “prove” much about what existed prior to the beginning of the universe.

I was taught that only God could ground objective morality. I still believe that a good God can reinforce morality. However, my study showed me that there were many contradictory beliefs about God and his will, including morally atrocious ones. Further, there are natural explanations for our moral intuitions and there are natural, pragmatic reasons to be good towards others and order societies in a just manner.

Similarly, some people taught me that only God could transcendentally ground our trust in reason and experience. However, my research showed me that these things were prone to cognitive distortion but that there where natural justifications for a critical realist trust in them. Further, to insist that belief in God stands above critical analysis is manipulative and wrongheaded.

I was taught that religious experience of God served as direct evidence of his reality. I still think a chastened form of religious experience is defensible. However, my reading showed me that people experienced a bewildering aray of putative spiritual entities and states in a variety of contradictory religions. Religious experiences sometimes lead to demonstrably false beliefs about reality or immoral or irrational behavior. Further, there are plausible natural explanations for (most) religious experiences.

I was taught that a variety of miracles proved the existence of God and the truth of Christianity. Christian miracles still strike me as one of the stronger pieces of evidence for God and an orthodox view of Jesus. However, my research showed me that many miracle claims are based on fraud, misperception, legendary accretion, psychosomatic recovery, or coincidence. I wonder if we will someday have more plausible naturalistic explanations for all miracles. In particular, I wonder if there is some kind of underlining natural power or ability people can tap into to heal or perform other paranormal feats. A number of contradictory religions have miracle claims, thus complicating their meaning. There are also alternative supra-natural interpretations of Christian miracles: that they are demonic, that they are done by lower level deities in what is ultimately an Eastern monistic universe, that they are done by a general theistic god, or that they vindicate a core of Jesus’ message but not orthodoxy per se. None of these alternatives now strike me as more satisfactory than the orthodox interpretation of Christian miracles. But they are possible and some of them would fit more nicely with the range of problems with Christianity and arguably even with God I am highlighting here.

Beyond seeing that these positive arguments for God we’re either disproven or strongly challenged, both my research and my own experience caused me to feel the weight of arguments against God based on the problems of evil, divine hiddenness, and the existence of contradictory religions and religious experiences. My broadening knowledge also severely stretched or even called into question my inherited understandings about the nature of God, creation, providence, free will, human anthropology, sin, and many other things.

Problems With The Bible

Secondly, my research showed me a number of problems with the Bible. Growing up, some people told me that the Bible’s claims were self-authenticating based on the authority of its own testimony. But I came to see that as fallacious circular reasoning.

I was taught that the Bible was inerrant in everything it affirmed. But my research clearly showed me that the Bible was wrong in places.

The Bible contains scientific and historical errors. For example, Genesis indicates that the earth is only a few thousand years old, but science tells us that it is billions of years old. Genesis teaches that animal predation and death did not exist before the (human) fall. But there is fossil evidence of these things for millions of years before humans existed. The Bible assumes a prescientific, geocentric cosmology, with a flat earth and a solid dome “firmament” above it. Exodus teaches a view of the Hebrew exodus and Canaanite conquest that are disproven by archeology. The book of Daniel makes claims about Babylonian and Medo-Persian figures that have no historical basis. And Matthew and Luke’s birth narratives conflict with each other and other ancient sources.

The Bible contains failed prophesies. For example, Ezekiel falsely prophesies that Tyre would be destroyed and never rebuild, which did not happen. Daniel expected the resurrection and God’s kingdom to occur in the second century BCE, which did not pan out. And as I will argue below, Jesus likely taught that God’s kingdom would be fully consummated in his generation, which did not occur.

The Bbile contains tensions and contradictions. For example, Deuteronomy says that God’s people should boil the Passover meal but Exodus forbids boiling it. Jeremiah teaches that God never commanded the Israelites to sacrifice their children, but Ezekiel says that God gave them corrupt laws to sacrifice their firstborn as a punishment. Read in context, Matthew and Luke’s birth narratives conflict with one another. Beyond these kinds of examples, different authors seem to give in-tension or even conflicting accounts on many ethical and theological matters. As one scholar put it, within certain boundaries, the Bible contains an on-going internal argument or conversation on matters of ultimate meaning.

The Bible contains pseudepigraphal authorship of books and sources with complexed compositional histories. For example, there is excellent evidence that Daniel did not author Daniel and that Paul did not author the Pastoral epistles, despite the Bible’s indicators that this is so. There is evidence that Isaiah and various Pentateuchal books had multiple authors and source traditions.

In places, the Bible contains morally abhorrent teaching. For example, it claims divinely commanded genocide (including the killing of women and children). Other texts support violence and xenophobia more generally. The Bible supports patriarchy and misogyny in its teaching that women are essentially owned and controlled by men. In that context, it justifies forced marriage and rape. In many places it teaches or assumes the normativity of slavery. It regularly condemns gay sex and even calls for those who engage in it to be put to death. In other places it takes a restrictive view of sex more generally. In places it mandates killing fellow Israelites using brutal methods (for example, stoning or burning) for benign activities such as picking up sticks on the Sabbath or questioning Israel’s religious traditions.

Although I believe Jesus’ ethical teachings tend to be more consistently humane, I note below some of his commands that are arguably also problematic. Even for the Bible’s teachings which seem more intuitively good, it’s open-ended, perfectionistic demands can feel oppressive. When combined with harsh views of God and judgment, they can load people down with fear and shame.

The Bible also contains diverse and sometimes terrifying views of God. For example, the Bible paints God as commanding genocide, killing all living things except those on the ark, killing the Egyptian firstborn, killing 70,000 Israelites because of David’s census, piling up corpses and making mountains run with blood, smashing fathers and sons against each other and causing parents to eat the flesh of their sons and daughters, exhorting the righteous to not abstain from annihilating the wicked and from bathing their feet in their blood, destroying whole cities, and (some argue) inflicting eternal conscious torment on unbelievers.

Other Biblical portrayals of God are arguably also problematic. For example, some present God as favoring the Israelites over other peoples or even as xenophobic toward other peoples. Some texts associate earthly success with God’s blessing and unfortunate circumstances with being cursed by God. Some texts lend themselves to a deterministic view of salvation, which implies a capricious and sadistic view of God. Reflecting the Bible’s patriarchal setting, God is portrayed in almost exclusively masculine terms and the language of spousal abuse is used in the prophets to illustrate God’s judgment on Israel. As noted, some of the supposed revelations from God seem immoral or non-factual.

Doubts About Jesus

Third, My research into the historical Jesus uncovered a number of troubling things that seemed to undermine his credibility.

There are issues surrounding our sources for Jesus. For example, there is the general question of who authored the Gospels and how far removed they were from the historical Jesus. If they were not personally eyewitnesses, there is the question of how much of the truth was garbled, a la a telephone game type scenario. Even if some or all of the Gospel writers were eyewitnesses, there is still the question of faulty memory or creative manipulation of the tradition. I don’t want to downplay these issues because there are cases such as the birth narratives or much of the material in the Gospel of John where I believe there is clear evidence of unhistorical material entering the tradition. There are many other sayings and stories that are questionable but about which we are unsure. There is also the thorny issue of how to evaluate the Gospels’ miracle accounts. Still, I believe Christian scholars have made a good case that the synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) are often trustworthy. Beyond specific texts, we can get a broad picture of what Jesus was like and the kinds of things he said and did. So, although there are real issues related to our sources for Jesus, unless one is committed to inerrancy, these issues are not the most series problem.

A bigger problem, in my view, is that Jesus seems to have mistakenly believed that God’s kingdom would be fully consummated within his generation. Since God’s kingdom was not fully realized in the first century, Jesus was wrong.

Some of the arguments for this includes the following: 1) Jesus is remembered as explicitly saying that the final end would occur within the lifetime of his contemporaries. Attempts to reinterpret or spiritualize this appear to fail: a.) in context, “generation” refers to that (current) generation and b.) much of what these texts describe could not be said to have happened in the first century. 2) Elsewhere Jesus is remembered as speaking more generally of the kingdom’s imminent coming. 3) Later Christian writings very much seem to be reinterpreting the tradition in light of its failure. 4) Jesus is sandwiched between John the Baptist and the early church, who both expected the immanent arrival of the kingdom of God. This makes it unlikely that Jesus held a completely different view. 5) Much of the rest of Jesus’ message is illuminated by seeing him in this paradigm (apocalyptic prophet). And 6) Jesus’ message and actions closely mirror other millenary groups who expected the end in their lifetime.

There are other potential problems with the historical Jesus. He seems to have held cultural beliefs that we have reason to believe were mistaken. For example, he seems to have believed in Adam and Eve as true historical figures, in a worldwide flood of apocalyptic proportions, that the 11 lost tribes still existed and would return in the last days, and so on. Coming to understand Jesus in his Second Temple Jewish context can sometimes make him seem uncomfortably human, and a product of his times. Some of his actions can also seem less than ideal. For example, his displays of anger and his disrespect for his parents.

I struggle with some of Jesus’ moral teachings. For example, his (apparently) strict pacifism, his prohibition of divorce, his calls to refrain from all anger and lust, his command to give exorbitantly to those in need, and his demand that his followers be willing to abandon family and shun wayward fellow believers. Jesus probably had a more “perfect”/binding view of the Hebrew Bible and Jewish law than many Christians would accept. Beyond issues with any specific commandments, Jesus’ insistence on not merely external purity, but also internal purity of thoughts and motives – under threat of hell – has often felt toxic. And although Jesus could express mercy, grace, and forgiveness for human sin; in tension to this he is often remembered as conditioning acceptance into God’s kingdom on following his commands in a rather open-ended way.

I also struggle with some of Jesus’ theology. I do believe his view of God was primarily loving and merciful. However, he taught severe and even violent divine judgment for those who resisted his message. He seems to have believed in a form of hell. Although he could be inclusive, he was also apocalyptically dualistic and exclusive in a way that does not easily fit inside salvific inclusivism. He believed that some unfortunate human circumstances were divine judgments. He seems to have believed that his current generation would bear punishment for the bloodshed of previous generations. He promised that those who prayed to God in faith would have their needs met (which does not always happen). He seems to have believed that some people who rejected his message were being intentionally blinded by God to the truth. As noted above, he was wrong in some of his apocalyptic expectations. Relatedly, his pessimistic end-times expectations have often played into fatalistic escapism and a glorification of suffering.

I sometimes question the credal/orthodox understanding of Jesus as God incarnate. There is the question of how many of the exalted designations and claims in the Gospels actually go back to the historical Jesus. There is the issue that many such designations – including Son of God, messiah, Son of Man, and so on – can have non-divine meanings. I sometimes wonder if some of the language Jesus used that imply identity with his Father was not just language about mystical union with God common among mystics more generally.

Relatedly, I have questions about the coherence of one man (Jesus) being at once fully God and fully man. I also have questions about the coherence of the doctrine of the Trinity. These questions are not the most serious problem for me. I know these doctrines are formulated so as to not be obviously contradictory and in many ways they appear beautiful. Also, with issues touching on the nature of a transcendent God, I think appeals to mystery are warranted. But there does seem to be tensions within them and I worry about their stability. I am also less than happy about their divisiveness to Jews, Muslims, and “non-orthodox” Christians.

Problems With Christians

Fourthly, the evil and ignorant behavior of many Christians has been a major source of my struggle with Christianity. Though these two are interrelated, let me deal with each in turn.

First of all, Christians often act in evil, unloving ways towards others. One thinks of Christian involvement in things like the Crusades; the Spanish inquisition; various witch hunts; anti-Semitic atrocities; colonial land theft, oppression, and genocide; slavery, racism, and white supremacy; homophobic treatment of LGBTQ people; misogynistic treatment of women; puritanical sexual norms; glorification of militarism and violence; economic exploitation and greed; environmental destruction; heinous treatment of those in other religions (and those of no religion); tendency to conflate the gospel with nationalistic civil religion; resistance to movements for peace and justice; and more everyday unloving acts.

As I have noted before, this isn’t just about consciously intended harm. Christians often inflict enormous damage by well-intentioned “good faith” beliefs that are, nonetheless, based in stubborn ignorance or prejudice.

There are a few different issues here. There is harmful behavior that is positively taught by the Bible or naturally flows out of traditional Christian teaching. There is also the issue of Christians regularly disregarding Jesus and the Bible’s own teaching on a widespread scale. This is problematic in a few ways. Theologically, it calls into question Christian teaching that God is morally transforming Christians in a distinctive way by virtue of their union with Christ and the gift of the Holy Spirit. How can that be, when non-Christians often act just as morally as Christians do or when Christians (sometimes) act in an even more immoral fashion! Such hypocrisy detracts from Christian credibility and the credibility of their claims. Finally, as someone who has personally been harmed by their toxic teachings and abusive behavior, subjectively it makes it hard to get past that trauma to feel safe in Christian spaces.

Secondly, Christians often act in incredibly ignorant and dishonest ways. For example, Christians are often arrogantly dogmatic about their beliefs. Too often they follow blind faith over evidence and experience. This can lead them to reject critical thinking, scholarship, and science. It can cause them to isolate themselves in religious subcultures and cut themselves off from credible sources. It can make them susceptible to superstitious and conspiratorial thinking. It can make them easy prey for false teachers and “con-men.” As noted, all of this this can lead to great harm, even under the best of intentions.

I was raised in conservative Christian community and inculturated into that way of seeing things. It was only as an adult, when I began to read more broadly, that I realized how flimsy many of these positions were. It’s hard to not feel seriously deceived by that. In fact, there are a number of tactics that Christian apologists will resort to that I believe are seriously flawed and misleading – even manipulative.

I don’t think the problem is usually one of overt dishonesty or deception. Instead, as Chris Massey points out, the problem is that, “they rigidly adhere to a belief structure (typically stemming from a prior commitment to biblical literalism and inerrancy) that can countenance no doubt or uncertainty. Thus, when evidence comes along that calls their paradigm into question, they have no choice but to deny, ignore or distort the data to make it fit.”

But I have come to see the problem as even more extreme than this. In recent years I have seen conservative Christians widely support candidates who are obvious liars and uncritically parrot their easily debunked falsehoods. I’ve seen them fall prey to numerous outlandish conspiracy theories. I’ve seen them reject medicine, science, and the testimony of their neighbors while engaging in some of the most selfish and cruel behavior imaginable. It’s become clear to me that many Christians – by rejecting critical evidence-based thinking, by isolating themselves in conservative bubbles, and by cutting themselves off from credible sources of information – are divorced from reality to a shocking degree. It’s also become clear that many of them will knowingly lie or support liars (without calling them out) when and if they think this can help them “win.”

There are a few conservative Christian spokespersons I still respect and there are many more moderate and liberal ones that I also respect. But I have real trust issues regarding much of what passes as Christian thinking.

Subjective Troubles

I was thinking a while back about the reasons I had trouble embracing Christianity. I believe some of my reasons involve more objective, genuine difficulties with this position. However, I also realized that some of them involved personal baggage from my experiences with Evangelicalism. While writing, I had a traumatic flashback of sorts. It all came out on paper.

I wrote, for example, about how I felt I had to force people into categories that didn’t fit. How I was always anxious about evangelism and worldliness. How I was made to feel guilty for natural sexual desire and became anxious around girls and suggestive conversations. I wrote about how questions, doubt, and melancholy were looked on with suspicion. I remembered the arrogance, willful blindness, and ruthless defensiveness. How I was lied to about the world and then caused enormous cognitive and emotional distress by being pressured to believe things I knew were untrue. I thought about the manipulative revival-style gatherings and the canned personal evangelism pitches. I thought about threats of hell and an angry God; how Calvinists tried to convince me that a hateful God was actually loving. I thought about how good stewardship of this world and enjoyment of it was looked on as a dangerous distraction. I remembered with shame and anger how a commitment to Biblical inerrancy not only caused me to misinterpret the Bible and an array of scholarly disciplines, but it also caused me to act in a seriously hurtful way toward women, gay people, non-believers, and others. I thought about the pressure that was put on me to be perfectly God-oriented and other-oriented – not just in my actions, but in my thoughts and motives too. I remembered how oppressive such a utopian ideal felt to a perfectionist such as myself.

The truth is I couldn’t go back to that way of doing things. Just the thought of it brings out the strongest visceral reaction in me. It’s hard not to associate certain songs or phrases or even the Biblical text itself with that time and place. It’s hard not to be cynical and angry. That’s the subjective side to it. But I fear some of those attitudes and beliefs I now strongly oppose are grounded in the Bible itself.

I don’t know that I can believe in Jesus or in Christianity. At times, my intuition fires like crazy that something isn’t right there. I don’t like Christianity’s vulnerability, with its specific historical and moral claims. I don’t like some of the problems with it or the reinterpretation necessary to salvage it. Part of me is afraid to put my weight on it. Pragmatically, it seems safer to believe in something more broad and general; especially since I already believe God is inclusive and would accept that. To be clear, this isn’t a matter of won’t believe, I am genuinely not sure I can believe – especially over the long haul. At times my faith has been erratic and brittle to the bone.

Concerns About Progressive Christianity

Much of what I’ve said to this point has been directed at traditional Christianity. But although progressive and liberal approaches to Christianity may be less threatened by these critiques, I sometimes have my reservations about them as well.

Fundamentally, I’m not sure it is internally consistent or stable in the long run to try to cut out so many traditional Christian beliefs but hold on to Christianity. I’ve argued that one would have to reject or reinterpret a good portion of the Bible’s narrative, theology, and ethics. Arguably one has to modify their view of Jesus to accommodate his fallibility. This is particularly destabilizing. If some core essence of Christianity is true, why would God make things so ambiguous and unclear?

What is to keep progressives unified and how are they to distinguish Christianity from non-Christianity? What is to keep Christianity from morphing over time into something completely different; something that would be unrecognizable to Jesus or the apostles?

I sometimes wonder if intellectual nuance and frankness about serious challenges might make progressive Christianity less attractive or accessible to lay-people, especially non-academic types. These things might also undercut the power of the message. With faith and doubt often mingled in equal measure and with such an inclusive message, can progressive Christianity support strong faith, robust evangelism, or things
like miracles?

Related to this, it seems that at least in some cases liberal or progressive Christianity serves as a half-way house for doubters on their way to a different religion or (more often) to complete unbelief. How is progressive Christianity going to guard against the problems of dwindling membership in progressive/liberal churches?

I don’t respect the way some progressive Christians twist the Bible and the message of Jesus to make it fit with their progressive views. This strikes me as dishonest and unprincipled. There are certainly texts that naturally lend themselves to a progressive interpretation and there are principled ways for progressives to critique texts they disagree with. But we should start out by being honest about what various texts likely mean, even when that message makes us uncomfortable.

I disagree with the views of some progressives on God and Jesus. For example, that God is completely non-violent or non-judgmental, that God is not all-powerful, or that Jesus was merely a good teacher. I disagree with progressives who reject the centrality of evidence/experience or the possibility of natural theology and opt instead for a supposedly Jesus-alone authority structure. While I acknowledge many of the insights of postmodernism, I fear some progressives veer too close to relativism.

I’ve also found that some progressives don’t have a deep enough understanding of their privilege, the nature of systemic oppression, or the need to confront injustice. On the other hand, some progressives who are committed to social justice can be overly dualistic and condemning in a way that feels like just another form of fundamentalism.

Reasons Why I Chose to Re-embrace Jesus

Given my legitimate reasons to doubt Christianity and significant areas where I think it must be rethought, why embrace it at all? Why not reject it in total? Wouldn’t that be more consistent? I do so for a number of reasons. As I said above, I see evidence that God at least works through Christianity. And such evidence leads me to further believe that a core essence of Christianity is true.

I note in passing that although I have found reasons I find compelling to still believe, I think reasonable people can look at the evidence and come to a different conclusion. There is a part of me that would love to win other people over to my way of seeing things (of course). However, I share the following primarily to explain my process and not as “proofs” that need compel everyone.

Personal Attraction and Convergence of Beliefs

First of all, I have always been attracted to Jesus, particularly his loving and merciful view of God and his compassion toward marginalized people. Despite my reservations about some of Jesus’ “harder” sayings and arguably mistaken beliefs, I find myself almost preternaturally drawn to love him.

As I’ve thought through my other beliefs, including the four core commitments mentioned above, I found a surprisingly deep correspondence between (many of) my beliefs/values and those of Jesus. This surprised me because I was not seeking after that and these were beliefs I had chosen for reasons independent of Jesus and which I would hold to whether I was a Christian or not. They weren’t just a bunch of random beliefs either. They included deep structural overlaps. Some examples include the following:

Jesus’ belief in a relational-theistic God. His belief that this God is primarily loving and merciful but that he also judges evil. His recognization that for God to truly be good, there must be a future righting of wrongs – in this life or the next. His belief that this will include some kind of accounting for how we have lived our lives, with appropriate vindication and punishment. His hope for a specifically physical resurrection and a restoration of this (physical) world. Relatedly, his “wholistic” approach to salvation: including imparting spiritual wisdom, forgiving sins, casting out demons, alleviating people’s physical ailments and hunger, and challenging unjust practices and power structures.

His conviction that love is the highest commandment and the fulfillment of the law and the prophets. His calls for compassion toward those suffering, inclusion of the marginalized, and justice for the oppressed. His insistence on a lifestyle characterized by peace, forgiveness, and (active) non-violence. His emphasis on inner moral purity over external ritual purity. And the way he utilized his ethical emphases of love, justice, and forgiveness to subvert Jewish law when it came into conflict with such priorities.

I could detail many other areas of agreement with Jesus’ teaching. As I note below, further study has in some cases resolved the problems with Jesus’ teaching I listed above. And even where I still question some aspects of Jesus’ teaching, I usually see underlining truths behind them or the way he applied them.

Beyond the content of Jesus teaching, I find his rhetorical use of parables and other teaching devices to be simply masterful. I also respect that Jesus actually lived out his teachings in his own love for others and in his willingness to die for what he believed. The various New Testament authors consistently record their impressions of Jesus as a exceptionally loving person and the profound impact that made on them.

Note that all of these things (at least) can be true whether Jesus was merely a man or also God incarnate. This is part of why I said a mere “good teacher” view of Jesus is defensible. There is enormous wisdom one can learn from Jesus whether he claimed to be divine and/or the Messiah or not, and even if he claimed some kind of identity with God and was wrong!

Nevertheless, as I will explain below, I find reasons to go beyond seeing Jesus as merely a good teacher to embrace the credal/orthodox view of him as God incarnate. And in regard to my current point, I find that this narrative also resonates with (many) of my core beliefs/values. The idea that God would care enough for humanity that he would come down and become one of us, suffer our sorrows, model and teach us how to live, die for us, and ultimately be justified (and justify us) through his resurrection from the dead is gripping. Such a narrative highlights God’s love. It shows a God who sympathizes with us and sides with the oppressed. It validates our physicality and this physical world. And it shows the comprehensive scope of God’s liberating activity.

Religious and Moral Experience

Moving on, my research into religious experience showed me that numerous people had profound, vivid-seeming experiences of God’s love, mercy, and presence mediated through the person of Jesus. I had my own such experiences from my Christian background. Many people also experienced profoundly good-seeming moral and spiritual transformation in a Christian context. There is transformative power and goodness there. Now, the same could be said about other religions as well. But this seemed to at least suggest that God worked through Christianity; and in combination with other factors might point toward something uniquely true about Jesus.

The Resurrection

I spent at least a year obsessed with books arguing for and against Jesus’ resurrection. Ultimately, I think the evidence ends up being somewhat ambiguous. Weighing against it, arguably there is a large burden of proof for demonstrating an actual (bodily) resurrection from the dead, there are problems with some of the resurrection narratives, I know from my other research just how fast embellishment and a reworking of earlier tradition can occur in a religious context, and the plausibility of Jesus’ resurrection is undercut by some of the problems with him I listed above.

On the other hand, there were some fascinating historically likely truths concerning the rise of resurrection belief among the early Christians that struck me as suggestive toward Jesus actually rising from the dead. These included that Jesus really existed, that he truly died, that his ministry and claims provided a religiously charged context that precluded any potential resurrection from simply being a random event, that some of his disciples claimed to have seen him raised after his death and they were willing to suffer for this claim, that at least one person (Paul) who was initially opposed to the early Christians later claimed to have seen the risen Jesus and became converted based on that experience, and that Jews of this time had available categories for post-death “encounters” with the dead other than resurrection (e.g. it being someone’s spirit or angel). While I saw arguable problems with the notion that Jesus was given an honorable burial, the historical likelihood of some Easter incident involving Jesus’ female followers might support a missing body.

There are possible natural explanations for all of these things, but I wondered if Jesus being truly resurrected from the dead might not be a better explanation for them. I also found myself attracted to what Jesus’ resurrection might imply (for example, a God who cared enough to intervene in the world, hope for life after death, and a validation of human physicality).

Miracles

Some of my research into miracles showed me that there were numerous credible testimonies to miracles done in Jesus’ name. These included rather spectacular things like goiters disappearing quickly in public view, blindness cured, deafness cured, and broken bones being healed nearly instantly. At least some of these cases have been medically confirmed (both the ailment before and the restoration after the healing).

Many of the miracles reported don’t seem to occur or occur very rarely in a “neutral” (non-religiously-charged) setting. It is the sheer number of very specific convergences of these miracles with prayer, with a particular healer, and/or with a religiously charged context that makes psychosomatic or coincidental explanations seem rather ad hoc. Many putative miracles seem in other ways to belie naturalistic explanation.

Many also seem, in many ways, to specifically support an “exalted” view of Jesus. For example, some included a putative vision of or message from Jesus. Some happened in “power encounters” that seemed to validate Christianity as opposed to another religion (though other religions have credible miracle claims as well). And what other mere (human) “teacher” has miracles done in his name? This was the decisive piece of evidence that led me to reimbrace Christianity.

Superiority to Alternative Worldviews

As another reason to embrace Christianity, I felt that, despite its flaws, it had more going for it than other worldview alternatives. This judgment draws on research, but I recognize that it is legitimately debatable and I do not (necessarily) present it as anything but my own personal opinion.

In my view, atheism is one of the stronger alternatives to Christianity. However, I find that I am intractably drawn toward a spiritual outlook (of some sort) and I think there is some phenomena that is better explained spiritually than in a purely materialistic fashion. Within a spiritual outlook, I am drawn toward whatever spiritual Reality is most Ultimate over any lower level spiritual entities (e.g. spirits, gods, etc.).

For a number of reasons I find a theistic understanding of the Ultimate to be more compelling than impersonal ones such as the Buddhist concept of Nirvana or some Hindu understandings of Brahman. It seems to me that theistic experiences and interpretations of the Ultimate are more common than impersonal ones and I think a theistic God is better able to explain a range of phenomena and center love as the ultimate value than impersonal understandings of the Ultimate. I also have strong disagreements with Hinduism’s caste system and the belief that this physical world is an illusion found in it and some other Eastern religions. Such a view can undercut this-worldly concern for justice and embodied well-being. So, in line with my four prior core commitments, I am committed to a worldview that embraces this world as real and valuable, that teaches an ethic of love and justice, and which worships a relational-theistic God who is primarily loving.

In addition to Christianity, some other religions such as Islam and Judaism posit these things. It is also possible that a more general theistic God exists who does not literally fit inside any specific religion, but who could inclusively use a variety of religions as vehicles for salvation. I see a general theism of this sort as another strong alternative to Christianity. Ultimately, I find it less than satisfying and, in any case, it would permit my approaching God through a Christian pathway.

I find traditional Jewish and Islamic views of God and human calling to be more problematic than traditional Christian ones and lacking the flexibility Christianity can have to adapt these in more progressive ways. For example, Christianity prioritizes love in ethics, often applies that in a radically subversive way to inherited tradition, and lacks the specified ritualistic and legal teaching that both Judaism and Islam have. I find the rigidity and (often) socially regressive views found in Jewish and Islamic law to be prima facie implausible as binding revelations from God. I see evidential problems and similar ethical and theological implausibilities in many other theistic sects or religions as well. Some of the arguments I outlined above supporting an exalted view of Jesus – particularly miracles in Jesus name – strike me as weighing for Christianity and against other theistic alternatives.

All of this can be debated back and forth at a high level. As I noted above, Christianity has legitimate weak spots and other worldviews have sophisticated arguments defending their own views. However, I still tend to see Christianity as more compelling than any alternative worldview.

A Specifically Credal/Orthodox View of Jesus

Before going on, this would be a good place to summarize some of the reason why I choose to embrace a specifically credal/orthodox view of Jesus as God incarnate. Such a view fits with miracles in Jesus name; religious experiences involving an ostensibly exalted Jesus; evidence for God raising Jesus from the dead (such as it is); the earliest Christian perceptions of Jesus; the perspectives of the creeds and the majority of Christians throughout history; my own personal draw to this narrative and the God it represents; and finally, I think a good case can be made that the historical Jesus himself had an exalted view of himself and his role in God’s coming kingdom.

Personal Reasons

In addition to all this, I also had a range of personal, biographical reasons to embrace some form of Jesus and his way. Christianity was the religion I was raised in. It was (still) the religion of many close friends and family, including my wife and my mom. I had invested so much of my life and energy in it. Many of its beliefs, norms, rituals, and symbols felt comforting and familiar. I found its central narrative to be beautiful and gripping. Many of the people I most looked up to were Christians; including a range of Christian scholars, artists, mystics, and humanitarian-activists. I found a subset of the progressive Christian community to be one of the only places I felt truly understood and safe, where I felt I belonged. We all need tangible community, discrete rituals, and a defining narrative/“myth” with which to live our lives. Progressive Christianity would give me that in a way that a more amorphous theism (as per my fourth commitment) could not.

Other Considerations

There were other considerations that made re-embracing Christianity more conceivable.

1) I had already bounded any form of Christianity I’d consider by prior core commitments to evidence and experience, embodied well-being, love and justice, and a primarily loving God.

2) I believed that the doctrine of the incarnation made room for me to be honest about Jesus being mistaken on some things while still potentially being God incarnate.

3) Ironically, I came to believe that a “high” Christological and Jesus-centric approach to Christianity contained resources within it to subvert some of the most problematic elements of traditional Christianity. Let me give three examples (though others could be cited).

First, if Jesus’ ethical teaching and example is the “norming norm” for Christian morality, this helps support the centrality of love and justice in ethics and it undercuts textual justifications for violence. Secondly, although Jesus believed that God could judge harshly, in my view he taught that God was primarily loving and merciful. If we take Jesus’ own character to be the fullest revelation of what God is like, God’s benevolent qualities are heightened even more. In my view, the God Jesus reveals provides resources that help subvert overly harsh and violent views of God. As one final example, Jesus and the other New Testament authors’ subversive and often metaphorical reinterpretations of the Hebrew Bible not only lead to a variety of conclusions I tend to agree with, but this methodology strikes me as more resonate with modern progressive opproaches to interpretation than conservative ones.

And it is worth noting that the New Testament and early Christians took a Christocentric approach. The Bible actually shows this. It isn’t a new liberal construct.

4) I felt that I had Pascalian wager style calculations that helped pragmatically justify re-embracing Christianity. If naturalism ended up being true and there was no God, I lost nothing and at least gained happiness in this life by embracing a nuanced form of Christianity. If a religion like Buddhism or Hinduism ended up being true, I would have further opportunities in future lives to realize that. And although religions like Judaism and Islam taught that my embracing an exalted (orthodox) view of Jesus was damnable blasphemy, I found these religions problematic and implausible (at least as traditionally understood).

I was confident that my reasons for believing that God was salvifically inclusive (per my fourth commitment) were strong. I believed I had bona fide reasons for thinking that Jesus was truly God incarnate. However, per inclusivism, I believed that God would accept me approaching him through Christianity, even if that wasn’t literally true, so long as I did so out of ignorance and in “good faith.”

Further, even if Jesus was not literally God, he could, as a human being, still be deeply connected to God and deeply representative of what God is like. God could choose to use images of an exalted Jesus to relate to and transform people, even if they were only “mythologically” true. And my ability to draw from a robust natural theology (per my prior four commitments) and also be honest about Jesus’ fallibility, helped mitigate any dangers of ascribing undue authority to him. On the other hand, my firm (if nuanced) commitment to Jesus’ lordship and way helped mitigate the danger of blithely watering down or rejecting his teaching.

Doubts Revisited

God

In spite of some of my doubts about God and my rejection of simplistic apologetical arguments, I still believe in God and I believe I have good reasons to do so. These reasons include miracles, religious experience, chastened forms of cosmological and teleological reasoning, and pragmatic considerations. I am no longer (much) troubled by the stretching of my earlier conceptions of God. I now see God as grander, more mysterious, and more benevolent than I could have imagined before. And my ability to to embrace God as wholly good helps me to be able to trust him.

The Bible

I no longer believe that the Bible has so be inerrant or even infallible to contain truth or serve as an authority for God’s people. At the least, the Bible is an anthology which records the experiences and beliefs of people who were genuinely seeking after God and relating to him in real, if imperfect ways.

As a Christian, the Bible also serves as an invaluable testimony to Jesus. The Old Testament provides a large portion of the foreshadowing and context for Jesus and the New Testament is the testimony of the early church to the life and message of Jesus and his ongoing significant.

As noted above, I believe that the Bible contains a core message within it that God has been progressively revealing, accommodating it to humanity’s growing (if imperfect) understandings as he “stoops down” to remain in a covenantal relationship with us. I would say that this message centers on God’s liberating plan to make right everything that is wrong in his creation, and particularly how he is doing that through Jesus. The very fact that God is willing to accommodate our flawed views as he progressively reveals his truth shows how patient, gracious, and faithful he is.

Phenomenologically, the Bible has exercised an enormous power to inspire, convict, redeem, and transform people. This is true in my own experience and is clear from church history.

I can honestly say that I now love the Bible in a deeper way than ever before. And I can better understand it and treat it with respect when I take it for what it is rather than trying to force it into the artificial construct of inerrancy.

I also believe I have a principled basis for navigating the Bible’s theological, moral, and factual diversity. My hermeneutic is not just “picking and choosing” in a self-serving manner.

I first try to understand what the original authors meant in their historical contexts. Going on, I start out with the loose presumption that the Bible is correct in what it affirms except for those instances where I have reasons to doubt that. So this isn’t always a fifty-fifty crapshoot.

I read the Bible with a mind to how it fits with my prior (higher) commitments to evidence and experience, embodied well-being, love and justice, and a God who is primarily loving. As I have noted, I base this on rational and evidential considerations of what core things we can know with most confidence and what our best ways to get at truth are. Most of these commitments are also backed up by the dominate stream of the Bible itself (as I have argued).

Next, I read the Bible with Jesus at the center. His cruciform character as the truest representation of what God is like. His teachings, actions, and values as the guide to how we should live. His way of reading the Bible as a guide to how we should read it. And so on.

And on that last point particularly, it is instructive to note that Jesus and the early Christians read the Hebrew Scriptures in a subversive manner: being willing to heighten or negate its teachings based on their fit with the person of Jesus, the way of love, the way of peace and forgiveness, their experience of the Spirit, their sense of God’s in-breaking kingdom, and the inclusion of former outsiders. Progressives like myself believe our hermeneutical strategies are often closer to this than wooden conservative ones.

I also read the Bible in Christian community and in the context of the Christian tradition. As a credal/orthodox believer, this means I (presumptively) respect the authority of the creeds and the orthodox “rule of faith.”

Another way of saying all this is that I read the Bible as an authority alongside and in harmony with other important authorities, including evidence/experience, science, reason, conscience, tradition, and the Spirit’s fresh leading. I see some precedent for this in things like the Wesleyan quadrilateral and in Christian language that recognizes God’s “two books” of nature and Scripture.

Jesus

What about my doubts about Jesus? As I noted, I agree with vastly more of Jesus’ teachings and values than I disagree with. I also have the positive reasons listed above to embrace Jesus.

My starting presumption is that Jesus was right apart from strong reasons to think otherwise. I endeavor to not reject any of his teaching without further study to see if the problem can be resolved. In some of the cases I listed above my study has helped resolve the problem. In those few instances where I intractably suspect Jesus was wrong, I can list specific reasons why. Even where I now question some aspects of Jesus’ teaching, I usually see underlining truths behind them or the way he applied them. In these cases I can also (often) point to other emphases in Jesus’ teaching that seem in tension with the teaching in question. Relatedly, there sometimes seems to be further development in Jesus’ thinking that undercuts his older view(s) that I find problematic. Many of Jesus’ teachings that I struggle with are ones which most other Christians have also struggled with throughout church history (with many practically failing to live them out).

As noted, I think there is room in the doctrine of the incarnation for Jesus to be a man of his times on some things, to be fallible and mistaken, and to grow in wisdom and stature and favor with God and man. Orthodoxy requires that one believe that Jesus was sinless, but this does not negate the possibility of Jesus being innocently mistaken on some things.

I have also come to recognize that there is no “magic bullet” that protects against misinterpreting Jesus or changing Christianity into something very different than what he taught. Even people with an inerrant view of both Jesus and the Bible do that and have done so throughout church history. In their case, they don’t have to say Jesus was wrong; they just ignore what he said or reinterpret it to be more palatable. As I see it, the only real safeguard is a willingness to listen to the overall spirit of Jesus’ teaching with a willingness to trust and obey him. And on balance, I honestly think many progressives – including some ones I disagree with – get much of Jesus’ teaching and the heart of what he was about more right than most conservatives.

As to some of the specific problems with Jesus I surveyed, I would argue that Jesus viewed God as primarily loving and merciful and only secondarily wrathful. My research suggests to me that he took an anihilationist view of hell rather than one of eternal conscious torment. I can see this as just under Arminian and inclusivist views of salvation. One can read Jesus’ interpretation of the destruction of Jerusalem as God giving people over to the results of their own behavior. I believe there are also some other contextual factors that might allow us to hope that God is less violent and/or more merciful than some texts imply. I also believe some of Jesus’ teaching opens the door to salvific inclusivism.

I believe that love is at the center of Jesus’ ethics and helps reframe some of his other harder requirements. My research has shown me how prominent social justice is in Jesus’ teaching and that has opened up new ways of understanding some difficult passages. I would argue that although Jesus does hold in tension God’s sheer grace with a conditionality of some degree of obedience for salvation, he sees mercy, grace, and forgiveness as the initial and dominant refrains. I also see the necessity of holding on to both poles to resist either legalism or antinomian “cheap grace.”

In terms of Jesus being wrong about the timing of his apocalyptic expectations, I’ve already signaled my agreement with Jesus’ overall apocalyptic solution to God’s goodness in the face of present injustice. While I don’t think Jesus can be fully absolved from being wrong here, I note that if the Gospels’ are right about Jesus predicting the destruction of Jerusalem, this shows one major event Jesus correctly predicted. Much (though not all) of the Olivet Discourse can be seen as fulfilled in that event. Perhaps Jesus inadvertently fused together in his vision this cataclysmic happening and the final eschatological end. Although much of Jesus’ teaching seems to anticipate the kingdom’s immanent consummation, some texts might seem to indicate a more prolonged period before that occurs. Jesus also admitted that he did not know the day or the hour when this would happen (though he still seems to have thought it would occur within that generation). As a further observation, much Biblical prophesy seems to be flexible and respondent to peoples’ reactions. Perhaps, as 2 Peter seems to say, God extended history to give people more time to repent before the end.

In general, I have come to better appreciate the beauty and power behind the Bible’s apocalyptic imagination. Contextually, much of it is symbolic (rather than literal) and relates in part to inspiring faithful resistance to imperial idolatry and injustice.

In spite of my questions about the genesis and coherence of an exalted (orthodox) view of Jesus, it does seem to me that Jesus had a somewhat exalted self-understanding. He clearly seems to have seen himself as God’s eschatological agent who would bring in and rule in God’s coming kingdom (at the very least). Perhaps some further divine-identity designations and actions do go back to the historical Jesus. Our earliest Christian sources clearly show them having an exalted view of Jesus from the start. There are the other reasons I listed above to believe that Jesus was God incarnate. As a final observation: even if Jesus did not clearly speak of himself as divine or so perceive himself, it could still be true! God the Father could have submerged that knowledge in Jesus’ humanity until the right time (perhaps later in his ministry). One need only suppose that God guided the early church to rightly perceive Jesus as sharing in the identity of God.

Bad Christians

In terms of the widespread ignorance and evil among Christians noted above, I’ll say a few things. With my four prior core commitments I have a principled foundation to appropriate Christianity in a way that undercuts its more harmful beliefs and practices. I think one could make a good case that even in the Bible, love and justice are the overarching imperatives. For each of the historic atrocities I mentioned, there were also Christians who opposed these evils. They may have sometimes been on the margins, but they were there. And Christians and Christianity have also been a catalyst for much goodness, truth, beauty, and justice in the world. For example, Christians were at the forefront of the abolitionist movement, the civil rights movement, and the peaceful end to apartheid in South Africa. Beyond all that, Christians regularly engage in smaller-scale charitable work and everyday acts of love and compassion. Even many Christians who are shaped by seriously toxic beliefs can be incredibly loving within the confines of their worldview – though their warped beliefs can still lead them to do significant harm.

As an inclusivist, I no longer have to expect moral goodness and transformation to be restricted to Christians. As I see it, God is at work morally transforming people wherever they are following the light that they have. I also have found comfort in the Bible’s own apocalyptic predictions that many false teachers will come and many ostensible Christians will be deceived and their love will grow cold. The Bible and Judeo-Christian tradition are well aware that some people honor God with their lips while their hearts are far from him. Beyond outright apostates, normal Christians struggle with sin and mix good and bad beliefs and behavior in their lives.

Subjective Problems

If I’m honest, I still struggle some with my faith and I still struggle to feel safe in many Christian spaces. But some things have changed for the better. Various things helped me get over my fear, shame, trauma, and doubt.

In terms of theology, my study helped show me a range of reasons to believe that God is overwhelmingly loving, gracious, and inclusive. It also provided evidence that undercut many harsh and violent beliefs about God. In terms of ethics, my study fully convinced me that love is the ultimately authoritative arbiter of right and wrong. My study also solidified the basis for my views on justice.

All of this helped show that there was a solid basis for my moral revulsion toward the toxic views of God and morality I was struggling under. This wasn’t just my heart deceiving me or me denying the Word of God based on my “feelings.” My study helped me see that there was a principled basis for a different approach to God, the Bible, and Christianity. Subjectively, it helped free me from toxic fear and shame. It made it possible to trust God again and begin to let God’s love and grace heal me. I also came to believe that God was ok with my honest doubts and me bringing my honest, flawed self to him. This reassurance paradoxically helped strengthen my love for God.

Experientially, I had a profound religious experience of God’s overwhelming grace and inclusivity. I have had other smaller confirming experiences of God’s love and goodness. Personal reflection also reminded me that I am intractably a spiritual person and some of the pragmatic and Pascalian reasons to nurture my spiritual and Christian sides.

Additionally, I found healing, confidence, and empowerment at my progressive Christian church and among other progressive Christian believers. They showed me I was not alone. They helped show me there was a principled alternative to conservative Christianity that had real substance, power, and conviction. In general, these factors have helped give me confident faith in Jesus and in my progressive approach to Christianity.

Doubts About Progressive Christianity

I have also come to believe that some of my hesitations about progressive forms of Christianity are less serious than I had thought or are unavoidable dilemmas that beset all approaches.

Although I am a committed Christian and care about Christianity, I have found I care more about my other four core commitments and expressions of various worldviews that take them seriously than I do Christianity as such.

There are progressive approaches to a number of religions that tend to emphasize all four of my first four commitments: evidence and experience, embodied well-being, love and justice, and a view of the Divine as primarily loving, good, or blissful. Such an approach tends to emphasize a transformative, loving encounter with the Divine and with others over assent to a rigid set of beliefs. In many ways, even as an orthodox Christian, I feel more affinity to other progessive believers who follow their religions in this way than I do to professed Christians who do not. I’d even go so far as to say that I feel more affinity to atheists who follow my first three commitments than to religious people – including fellow Christians – who do not!

There is nothing inconsistent here given the structure of my worldview. Part of my argument in this series is that we need to re-conceive our hierarchy of beliefs/commitments and the relative priority we place on each of them. In my view, we should build coalitions with others who share important, underling beliefs and values.

But of course, I feel most affinity to fellow Christians who also share my other core commitments. As I noted, progressive Christianity is a big tent and I won’t agree about everything with all others who go by the moniker. But I believe the five core commitments I’ve argued for are widely embraced by other progressives (although sometimes only implicitly, and sometimes understood in slightly different ways). Even for progressives I disagree with, I often share common experiences, beliefs, and adversaries. But I definitely have found my niche among progressive Christians who share my five core commitments as well as an orthodox understanding of Jesus.

I feel particular affinity for progressives who come out of the Anabaptist, Methodist, and black church traditions. But there are progressive Christians who come out of other denominational backgrounds – including all three major branches of historic Christianity – who I also see as “my people.” I note in passing that the five core commitments I am arguing for here are compatible with a number of theological views and ecclesiastical practices.

It is true that some progressives can be dualistic and judgmental to a degree that I see as toxic. But I will say a few things. There are plenty of progressives who better balance moral exhortation with love and grace. I would note too that although some critiques strike me as problematic, I recognize that as someone with a lot of privilege (as well as more general sinfulness), I often need to be called out on my wrong thinking and behavior. I need to be mature enough to sit with discomfort sometimes. Part of what it means to be progressive is being humble enough to learn and empathetic enough to shrug off legitimate anger that is sometimes expressed in ways that don’t feel fair.

The form of progressive Christianity I am arguing for here is not inconsistent or lacking a principled basis for its critical approach to Jesus, the Bible, and Christianity. It is not just “picking and choosing” in a self-serving fashion. Throughout this series I have outlined the basis for my five core commitments and the epistemology and hermeneutical strategies related to them. I no longer think there are all that many cuts or convoluted steps needed to arrive at a progressive form Christianity. Really all it requires is that we recognize that the Bible and Christian tradition are imperfect, that there are still core truths we can learn from them, and that there is a rational basis for making these judgments. And I’m clearly no relativist.

I have also now seen and experienced a real power and dynamism to progressive Christianity. It is not an unsatisfying halfway house (or at least, it needn’t be). I’ve experienced spiritual love, power, and transcendence in worshipping and communing with others at Urban Village Church here in Chicago. I’ve seen the beauty in our inclusion of marginalized people and our prophetic commitment to social justice. I’ve seen these things elsewhere too. And some segments of progressive Christianity appear to be growing and becoming more networked with each other. Even some segments of traditional Christianity seem to be embracing some more progressive emphases.

And in any case, numerical growth and culturally dominance are not the most important things anyway (important as they might be, all things being equal). Faithfulness to the truth and to love and justice are more important. And sadly it seems that nuanced, morally demanding approaches to religion (vs. simplistic and self-serving ones) will always be in the minority. I see no way around that.

As to progressive Christianity being too nuanced and open to doubt, I’d first of all note that many people actually appreciate this honesty. I certainly do. But I also think the kind of progressive Christianity I am arguing for has a powerful and simplifiable message. In this series I’ve boiled it down to five points – the five points of “Jasonism,” if you will. But in a way, that could be further reduced to just one point: love.

As I see it, the golden through thread of progressive Christianity is love. I care about the truth, not just for it’s own sake in the abstract, but because I love people and I see how lies hurt them. My commitment to evidence and experience is just a logical extension of this commitment to truth as a practical way of loving others, and seeing that evidence and experience is the best way to get there.

I’m committed to this (physical) world partly because I care about the embodied well-being of others. My commitment to an ethic centered on love and justice is unabashedly a commitment to human well-being and loving others in a sympathetic and socially aware way.

My commitment to a loving God sees love as at God’s center; is graciously redeemed and transformed by God’s love; and worshipfully seeks to love God back in return. My commitment to Jesus is a childlike trust in Jesus’ loving Father and in his only begotten Son Jesus, who emptied himself, taking on the form of a servant to save us. It is a way of imitating this sacrificial love for the good of others.

These commitments (and the central one of love) can also be expressed in simple narrative form. That narrative has to do with a good God who created a good world and who has plans to make right all that is wrong in that world. This God pursues these ends inclusively, but most centrally through the person of Jesus. In light of what God is doing, he calls us to turn from our old ways of living rooted in sin and ignorance, turn to the God revealed in Jesus to receive his love and forgiveness, and be transformed to love God and our neighbors as we partner with God in the restoration of all things.

Conclusion

In summary, I hold to a form of Christianity that is informed by my first four commitments and, in that context, centered on Jesus. In this post I’ve surveyed reasons I’ve questioned Christianity and areas where I think it must be rethought. But I’ve also explained my reasons for embracing a nuanced form of orthodox Christianity.

I reject approaches to Christianity that are not informed by evidence and experience, embodied well-being, love and justice, and a primarily loving God (or which positively go against these things). In my past posts in this series I have delved into each of these points in more detail. I also reject versions of Christianity that are not centered on Jesus, which focus on Jesus’ death in a way that isolates it from his fuller restorative ministry, or which turn Jesus into a kind of heavenly cipher that negates the radicalness of his earthly activity and way.