Can Christian’s Suffer From Depression?

It seems that my corner of the interwebs is all lit up with mental health awareness messages this week. It’s possibly because of ‘RUOK? Day’ that just passed in Australia, possibly because its Mental Health Awareness Month in the United States, and possibly because I follow a lot of people on Twitter who are grieving the death of Jarrid Wilson. He was a pastor and mental health advocate who tragically lost his battle with depression, even more tragically it was on the day he officiated the funeral of another Christian who lost her battle with depression. In amongst the outpouring of grief, the voice of ignorance seems to have raised itself in the form of people who assert that Christians can’t have mental illnesses, or that suffering from a mental illness disqualifies them from the ministry. This is a dangerous belief; one that is unbiblical and unhelpful at best, and flat out dangerous at worst. In a time when mental illness is thought to affect up to 25% of us, its not good enough to turn a deaf ear to such rubbish. So let’s talk about it.

First cab off the rank: Can Christians Suffer from Mental Illness? Short answer? Yes, they can. But of course, there is more to it than that. For some, this question stems from the NAR/Bethel-Esque belief that total healing from all conditions is guaranteed at the point of salvation. Thus, if someone is born again in Christ, they won’t suffer from mental illness, or indeed any other illness (!!! More on that later). For others, it comes from an antiquated and even subconscious belief that mental illness is demonic or spiritual in origin. Now, thankfully most Christian’s will at least acknowledge that some depression can have neurological or physiological origins. But others hold to the idea that depression is a spiritual, demonic or sin-related malady.

*sigh*

The latter is not helpful. And it’s not true.

Let me switch out my “Christian blogger” hat for my “Research blogger” hat for a second. Here’s what research tells us about depression: it is neurological. Every time. It is physiological. Every time. Why? Because thoughts, feelings, ruminations and such all take place in the brain which is a physical and neurological thing, and having stressors (whether they are physical, chemical or emotional) often factor into the etiology of depressive disorders. The research is a little fuzzy on why serotonin reuptake inhibitors help in a lot of cases, but it seems to have something to do with the neurotransmitters that help signals jump from one neuron to another (i.e. that lovely serotonin in your brain and gut that bathes your neurocircuitry).

There is also emerging research that indicates depression is an inflammation issue, and there are well-established links between mental health and gut health (with the gut being home to the enteric nervous system which houses billions of neurons and communicates to the brain via the vagus nerve and the gut-brain axis. I.e. Many depression sufferers have gut problems, too.

Depression is physical. Read that again. Depression is a physical issue. It’s time we stopped treating mental health as some ethereal, intangible thing. Its time we stopped saying “Oh its all in your head.” Guess what: your head is a tangible thing. Your brain is a tangible thing. If its all in your head, it exists. The thoughts of the mind (with the mind being the brain in action) can be seen on brain scans in the form of neuronal pathways lighting up on the screen. The activity of the limbic system (which governs our emotions) is something that can be measured. We can also measure sympathetic function (the sympathetic nervous system is the part of the nervous system that fires up under stress, and kicks our survival mechanisms into play). Thus, mental illness is tangible in many ways. (Research blogger hat now removed, FYI)

So when you ask yourself if a Christian can have depression, you are really asking whether a Christian can experience physical illness, inflammation, chronic or acute stress, or gut problems. If you can have diarrhea after you eat something you shouldn’t, your Christian brother or sister can have depression. One is no more demonic than the other. Yes, one is more short term than the other (hopefully!) but the point still stands.

Have you ever taken a panadol/Tylenol or aspirin for a headache? Have you ever put an icepack on a sprained ankle or knee? Have you ever gone to the doctor for an upset tummy or other condition? It might have been easy to say that it’s okay for you to suffer from those ailments because its just life, yet turn to depression and related illnesses and say “but that’s not.”

That, right there, is hypocritical. I’m coming out of the gate firing on this one because it matters. If we apply shame is to physical, neurological, chemical conditions that manifest as depression or other mental illnesses we may inadvertently create a situation in which someone may feel shame in getting help. This is the danger of bad theology. It can, quite literally, put a life at risk. People! Let’s not do this! Let’s make churches a safe place for someone to say “I think I’m depressed” and receive support in getting help – not shame or demotions.

It is my belief that depression should not be treated as a spiritual issue. It should be treated as a very real, very serious condition that requires a holistic approach for treatment. That approach should include professional (qualified) help such as counselling and medication. It should include diet and exercise (which is often prescribed as part of the action plan). The place where church should come into a Christian’s action plan is that it should provide community, pastoral support, an opportunity to connect in a positive environment, receive peace and encouragement through scripture (etc), and receive prayer for encouragement or healing if if IF the depression sufferer asks for it. *The latter should never be administered as the sole approach to recovery.* I say this as a person who has been ashamed to admit that attempts at faith healing had failed. In my case it was shoulder and elbow damage after an accident. It was obvious my conditions hadn’t been healed and I felt shame. The hidden shame when a mental illness isn’t healed by faith could be dangerous.

I do believe in prayer. I do believe that when we turn to God, He can perform miracles. I don’t believe that should be the only approach with mental illness. To limit “treatment” to faith healing could be deadly because it could cause a person to feel shame or failure if it doesn’t work. Worse still, it could cause them to feel pressure to act like all is well, or discontinue other treatment. I sweat at the thought.

A particularly concerning doctrine regarding and all healing is an increasingly prevalent belief in some NAR churches that healing from all maladies is guaranteed at the point of salvation. I mentioned it at the top of this piece and I’ll mention it again here: it’s not true and it’s not helpful. We can’t measure the quality of our salvation on whether or not our cancerous tumours disappeared when we said the prayer. Nor can we measure it on whether or not our depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, bipolar, (etc. etc. etc.) disappeared when we said the prayer. Some people may get healed when they invite Jesus into their hearts. GOOD for them. Some people may take years to heal. Good for them. Others may be healed in eternity. Good for them. The fact is every walk with God is different and none should be judged against another.

Paul had a “thorn in his side.” Jacob had a limp. No one would look at them and say “disqualified.” God certainly wouldn’t. We shouldn’t do this to people who suffer mental illness.

Now to the question of whether or not someone should be in the ministry if they suffer from depression or another mental illness. I’d like to turn your attention to King David. As the author of many of the Psalms, it has often been questioned whether his natural artistry and melancholy crossed the line into depression or bipolar disorder. It’s possible! Some of those Psalms are dark! But he was called ‘a man after God’s own heart,’ depression or not. Then there is Elijah the prophet: perhaps the clearest example of burnout or depression in ministry, when the burdens of the call proved too much to bear and he felt the need to hide in a cave for three years and not look after himself (thank God for sending the birds as a catering service). Jeremiah was called the weeping prophet. King Saul had moments of extreme darkness (not that he was a pillar of godliness, I know). All these illustrate the point that the personal struggles or mental illnesses of some of the greatest Bible heroes did not disqualify them from serving God.

Nor should it disqualify our modern ministers from serving God. What it should mean is better support around them, and medical help if required. It should mean that their occupational oversight makes sure they take their holidays every year to recharge the batteries and that stress or complexity is well-managed within the context of their role. It shouldn’t mean they feel shame over their condition or hide it from those around them while wondering why God hasn’t cured them yet.

In a secular workplace, you might feel the need to take extended leave if you were suffering to the point where it was affecting your job. A pastor may need that from time to time if his or her condition is serious or worrying, or that sharing other peoples burdens (as they so often do) is proving too much. That should be okay. I see it as the duty of care the denomination or oversight owes to their pastor. (If a church is independent, this would be difficult. Yet another reason I’m cautious of independent churches – but that’s another topic for another day).

So if you are a minister or a Christian feeling shame about mental illness – please don’t. We didn’t see God shaming Elijah, David, Noah, or many others for their walks with the black dog. You are loved as you are, valued as you are, and precious to God as you are – but don’t mess around with this illness. Please. You deserve care and the best chance at recovery.

“Now Kit, you’ve taken a very unspiritual look at this problem,” I hear you say. “Where does spiritual stuff fit in?” I know many people still believe there is potential spiritual involvement in illnesses including mental illnesses. I have heard of people doing prayer counselling to remove generational curses and such. I’m going to do another piece on this because it’s a loaded topic so come back next week for that one. But here’s the scoop: there are three forms of deliverance. The first happens at the point of salvation. The second happens more gradually, as we consume and internalise the word of God. The third is so rare and problematic I’d almost call it needless in a modern setting where the consent issue can push it over into spiritual abuse.

While it is obvious that Jesus cast out spirits in some extreme cases in the New Testament (the one with Legion and the herd of pigs in Mark 5/Luke 8 for example), He had the benefit of one thing: He was God and had perfect insight into the situation. He was yet to give His life for the redemption of humanity. He was yet to send the Holy Spirit as our helper, counsellor and guide. These are benefits that we now have. To invoke power-deliverance ministries and ignore the health-related fields dedicated to a more gentle and therapeutic approach to mental illness is, in my opinion, needless and dangerous. As Christians, as the living representation of Christ on earth, it is our duty to tread very carefully with the most vulnerable of people. But more on that next week.

I hope you’re intrigued. See you again soon

Peace
Kit K

Christian Spiritual Warfare: The Occult Crossover

I remember a visiting preacher coming to church ten or so years ago. He strode to the platform, took the microphone from my Dad’s outstretched hand, greeted us and then began his sermon by hanging something on the pulpit. A large map of our country unfurled. I’ll never forget the silent reaction. Double chins appeared all over the congregation as people pulled their faces back in a collective “Ergh, what is that?” The map was covered in splattered blood.

Okay, it turns out it was nail polish. The sermon was on blood splattering – spiritual warfare by symbolically splattering the blood where God reveals. In retrospect, it was a manifestation of spiritual mapping, like that which C. Peter Wagner referred to.

But the thing is, washing by the blood of Jesus is a metaphorical thing that happens at the point of salvation. Its something you enter into by faith not nail polish. As to whether one needs to splatter  ‘blood’ anywhere in order for the land to be returned to God, well I’d argue Psalm 24:1 – The earth is the Lords and the fullness thereof, and the people who dwell within.

But now that argument is done with, lets talk about the stewards of the Earth. Us – people of faith be it Christian, Islamic, Pagan or otherwise, people of no faith, people of colour, whities, traditional owners of the land, recipients of the spoils of colonialism – I gag a bit on that last one now that I understand the damage of colonialism a little better.  The point is, I don’t believe God is so insecure over what happens with the Earth. He knows the Endgame. Its us mere mortals that need to keep a watch over our own actions and intentions.

It seems to me that the practice of spiritual warfare is dreadfully uninformed. Not only do we not understand the full impact of the finished work of Christ, but we in Christendom seem to have a very poor grasp on the nature and power of the rituals we enact “in the name of God.” So dear Christian friend, let’s talk about some of the rituals that Christian Spiritual Warfare may have actually borrowed from  occultism.

Destruction by Fire and Controlling the Elements

I mentioned in my last article that if you’ve ever been involved in a burning party, you needed to read this. Well here’s the soft opening. “Destruction rituals by fire are very pagan,” says Carrie Maya. “I use fire to destroy things literally and figuratively all the time. Fire is one of the four elements acknowledged and invoked in the oldest shamanic, earth-based spiritual traditions that exist. Often seen as being a living entity in and of itself—with it’s own energy of destruction and creation. It can also just be seen as a symbol of these things without being supernatural in nature.”

Carrie’s statement shed interesting light on my experience as a teen. I remember being about 15 and at a youth group event in the back yard of a farmhouse belonging to a church family. The fire barrel was blasting with heat, and into that barrel went Korn t-shirts and CD’s, Weezer CD’s, band posters, romance novels, old letters, you name it. We gleefully destroyed our items and snapped pictures with our (film) cameras hoping to capture images of demons dancing in the flames. I laugh now. And I want the weezer CD back (Okay, the Weezer CD belonged to my future husband, but still.)

As for whether or not the ritual worked or was necessary, I don’t know. It was certainly spiritual, as evidenced by our intent and by Carrie’s example. But was it something the scripture instructed us to do? Not so much. In fact, I can’t find an example in scripture. Examples of sacrifice by fire always sacrificed something acceptable to God. Something living. God has no want or need for our band CD’s and trashy romance novels. Yet the ritual was spiritual, and oh so common in Christian and occult practice.

Its interesting to note, while we speak of one of the elements, that spiritual warfare has been used to target weather patterns. Carrie remarks, “Controlling the elements (earth, water, wind, fire, spirit) is occultic. I don’t think it’s bad. I’m just saying that this has existed since long before Christianity. So when we have Christians commanding tornadoes, tsunamis, storms, and fires to do things, it’s essentially spellcraft.“

This should make us stop and reflect: in the last entry in this series, we discussed how the difference between spell craft and Christian prayer lay largely in the dichotomy between “my will be done” and “Thy will be done.” Yet if we aren’t even cognisant of the line that delineates the difference between Christian spiritual warfare and witchcraft, how can we be sure where we stand?

Modern Extremes: I.e. Grave Soaking

I’ll admit to being rather aghast when I saw this video of a group of Bethel congregants “Grave soaking.”  This was the act of going to the graves of great Christians and lying on them to “soak up the anointing.” I watched the video with a queasy feeling in my stomach. Not only is that person long gone (in this case, Smith Wigglesworth), their spirit in Eternity with God, but it was extremely disrespectful to the grave and there’s no instruction in the Bible towards this thoroughly odd practice. I shared the video with Carrie and this is what she said:

“I just can’t believe Bethel are doing this! I personally don’t have an issue with people engaging with the spirits of the departed; I’m a medium myself and also practice ancestor veneration. However, the Bible condemns mediumship so whether I agree with it or not isn’t the point. It’s whether the sacred text they’re claiming to live by allows it. And it doesn’t. 

Also, grave soaking (as they’re calling it) goes beyond common mediumship but probably lands on the more extreme end of the necromancy spectrum. I mean, they’re straight up trying to absorb a dead guy’s power. So for the sake of this discussion, say they were actually “soaking up his anointing” but what else were they soaking up? Smith Wigglesworth may have been a good person in their eyes but he wasn’t perfect because he was a human being.

Imagine this: Maybe he was like Mike Gugliumucci and had a secret pornography addiction. Maybe he was like Ted Haggard who had a homosexual affair with a sex worker (but just didn’t get caught). These are things that, in their eyes, would be considered immoral. So do they want to soak that energy too? 

Their flawed logic and cognitive dissonance (the occult is bad but it’s okay to practice necromancy for Jesus) leaves them open to soaking up EVERYTHING Smith Wigglesworth had operating inside of him and that, technically, wouldn’t be energetically safe.”

What does energetically safe mean? “Everything is energy,” says Carrie. “Not just in a woo-woo way but also from a scientific perspective. Conservation law within the science of physics states that energy cannot be created or destroyed. It’s ALWAYS converted from one thing to another. This is usually talked about within the context of applied force. E.g. My cheeky cat slides my mug across the bench then pushes it. The push is the applied force and through the power of gravity it falls to the floor and smashes to pieces. The applied force converts a whole cup that can contain liquid into fragments of glass all over the place. I could take that one step further and say, “Hmm. I liked that mug and don’t want to throw that out. I’m going to use the smaller pieces to create a pretty mosaic art piece.” Yes, I just compared Smith Wigglesworth to a mug. But hopefully that creates a clear illustration of what I’m trying to say.

I’d also like to point out, as a former Christian who is familiar with the Biblical perspectives and protocols around “the laying on of hands” that Charismatic and Pentecostal Christians generally have an understanding that they shouldn’t be touching just anyone. Because they don’t know what kind of “demons” or “spirits” a person might have. So even within Christian tradition there is an acknowledgement of the transfer of energy (or impartation). So it surprises me that these people at Bethel could do this when, within their own worldview, it is actually much more extreme than the laying on of hands.

As a side note, this whole grave soaking thing feels kind of idolatrous from a Christian perspective, right? Like isn’t God big enough to give them the same gifts that He gave the person lying in the grave? Not to mention that, separate from whatever religion or beliefs ANY of us have, isn’t it just bad taste to treat someone’s grave like a spiritual amusement park? Not as a witch, but as a person, that makes me feel icky.”

Why mention the different people’s and beliefs at the beginning of this article? Because threaded like a theme through-out the Bible is honour. Honour thy Father and thy Mother. Honour the Lord with your first-fruits. Honour. Honour. Honour. Yet grave soaking, to me,  smacks of dishonour. Imagine the family of the deceased seeing a video of elated Christians filming youtube videos on the grave of their granddad. But Carrie raises a good point: God is big enough to give you the same gifts without requiring you to go to a deceased and potentially dodgy second source.

But she had another cringy source ready to rock my world: Adolf Hitler was a grave soaker too. Eeesh. In a documentary called “In Search of History: Hitler and the Occult” the documentary makers allege that Hitler and the leaders of the SS were consumed with Aryan Mythology. They found people for the SS based on their ethnic purity going back generations. In order to ensure that the next generation of soldier were racially pure, they recommended sexual rites on the graves of Nordic/German heroes in order to conceive babies that would carry the spirit of the deceased warrior.

Wow.

Other Rituals 

Admittedly, and thankfully, grave soaking is not commonly practiced in Christian circles. (Thank God. Literally.) But as the influence of Bethel spreads, so too does the importance of knowing good doctrine from bad increase. In the last blog post, I put out a laundry list of other practices. So lets take a quick tour of the rest so this article doesn’t go forever.

First up: Extended periods of praying in tongues, warfare worship, prophetic declaration or strategic prayer. The Bible does clearly show the gift of tongues (on the day of Pentecost, and the Apostle Paul saying he prays in tongues more than all of us). It also advises that praying in tongues should be accompanied by the gift of interpretation. Thus, one needs to question what public and prolonged displays of praying in tongues actually achieves.

The same with extended “warfare” worship. My experience, and my reading of cult literature, raises one answer here (you might have others): It brings us to an altered state of consciousness.  Is this good or bad? Carrie reminds us time and time again that it is the intent that matters here. But she also mentioned this:

“It reminds me of the Benandanti of Italy. They took it upon themselves to go on a crusade in the spirit realm to “deal” with God’s enemies. Whether through prayer and discernment (as within the modern Christian Charismatic and Pentecostal traditions) or drug use (as with the Benandanti), these people put themselves into an altered state of consciousness in order to “perceive” spiritual truth about other people. Just as with the visions that were considered “evidence” during the witch trials, it’s not fair that a Pentecostal Christian’s “discernment” or a Benandanti’s drug-induced visions of God’s enemies should be considered any kind of proof of someone’s guilt. Especially if that alleged guilt leads to persecution and even punishment.”

In Carrie’s mind, and in mine, spiritual mapping is a 20thcentury witch hunt. “It sounds just like what they did with the Malleus Maleficarum beginning in the 1400s. Wagner’s methods of using prayer and discernment also remind me of how, back during the witch trials (in America and Europe), random people could say they had visions of people being witches and it would be considered “evidence” in a court of law. Lots of people were persecuted that way which is quite horrific.”

I love the, forgive me, dumb logic of some of the trials. You get thrown into a river with weights around your ankles to drown. If you drown, you aren’t a witch. If you don’t, and you manage to swim, you are a witch. It’s all semantics at this point. Either way, you are dead. Often the accused only had ‘discernment’ as the evidence against them. Yet discernment is what is used as evidence in a good many spiritual warfare practices.

Secondly, repressed memories or generational curses. Yes, the scripture does mention the “sins of the fathers” which could be called generational curses. But to put too much stock in this is to undervalue the complete work of the cross. Lets go back to John 19, people. It is finished. Its all finished. If you are saved, you are in Christ. You are a new Creation. The old things have passed away. A new thing has begun.

As for repressed memories, this represents a hugely concerning area for counselors and psychologists alike, as repressed memories may be false or heavily influenced by suggestion. I cite, for example, the satanic panic of the 90’s when many people were diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder due to Satanic Ritual Abuse realised in repressed memories. Many, potentially the vast majority of them, were found to be false memories. Yet the damage these memories did was real. Real suffering came as a result.

As someone who knows what I believe to be a genuine survivor of Satanic Ritual Abuse, I’m horrified. Not just because fabricated memories devalue the suffering of genuine victims, but also because there is no reason for a person to carry a false memory and suffer the pain and disability it potentially brings. The mind is a powerful thing. Therefore, we should not mess with it. Pastors or Christian counsellors should, in my opinion, step very carefully and only with appropriate qualifications when it comes to counselling anyone. They can do great damage if they follow “discernment” as their guide. Repressed memories are just one area where good intentions and inadequate therapeutic qualifications and professional standards can damage a life incredibly.

Thirdly, and I’m hurrying: Vicarious repentance. Hey guys, the finished work of the cross is finished. There is therefore no need to repent for what others have done, regardless of whether or not you are related to them.

There might be need to make amends. But by and large, this is a civic thing (in my belief). I’m referring mainly to the generational effect of colonialism on first people. I.e. Kevin Rudd, when he was Prime Minister of Australia, issued an apology to our first nations for the stolen generation. It was symbolic, important, and it meant a lot to the recipients. It is not complete reparation, as there is still a lot of disadvantage in these people groups but that is a topic for another day and another expert as it’s a bit over my head to be honest. But on with the show…

Fourthly, Prayer journeys or locational rituals. Followers of the Spiritual Warfare Network and other practitioners have been known to go to specific locations to undertake their rituals. Not only is this not advised or commanded in scripture, its also expensive for no good reasons (plane tickets, yo) and is little more than super-spiritual tourism as its usually an extension of spiritual mapping which is highly subjective. Why? Because God is omnipresent and omnipotent. Praying to him here in the backblocks of Gippsland is as effective as praying to him at the wailing wall in Jerusalem. The important thing is the prayer, not the location.

Upon reflection, I’ve been involved in this sort of thing too. At the instruction of a prophet who visited my church many years ago,  we gathered our church members and the members of another church, went to every entry of our local down and drove a stake into the ground to declare the town to be the Lords. Nearly two decades on, that church still has the roughly same amount of people in it. Despite “reclaiming” the city, it remains largely unchanged except for the hard work of local law enforcement, council and community groups to make it a better place to live and work. But hey, they’d have done that anyway.

It makes me wonder how many towns have been “taken for Christ” in spiritual warfare rituals, and yet they remain, strangely, unconverted. This alone should make us question whether this type of spiritual warfare is pretty much a fruitless fig tree. We know what Jesus did with that.

Lastly, discerning, naming or renouncing demons and territorial spirits. Tune in next week for that one, kids.

I guess in conclusion, there are a good many similarities between what has been included in Christian Spiritual Warfare and the occult. But a personal area of conviction I felt when speaking with Carrie was this: she considers intent and energy a lot more carefully than many Christians I have experienced. We can be far too gung-ho, and plunge ourselves into a world that we so poorly understand.

There is a place for prayer. There is a place for the armour of God. There is a place for resting in the finished work of the Cross and standing firm in what our God has done for us. In my opinion, this is the light by which we should see all our spiritual activity.

*There are two articles left to be written in this series: “Territorial Spirits: Are they out there?” and “The Role of Prayer and Intercession in the Christian Life.”

Hey if you liked this, or had a morbid curiousity about it, sign up to the mailing list and like my socials!

Peace 
Kit K

Riding the Third Wave: The Neocharismatic Movement

I feel like this blog post could open with a Matrix pun. In fact, as a kid who grew up in the neo-charismatic movement, I’ve heard a good many youth-centred messages that included the old “red pill, blue pill, choose your reality” message extracted from the wisdom of the Wachowskis (who wrote the screenplay). But I’ll refrain. I’m about to launch into an interesting series on the link between modern spiritual warfare and paganism. But in order to preface that, we need to know what the New Apostolic Reformation is (see last weeks post) and what the Neo-Charismatic Movement is. They are intertwined, but also quite distinct from each other. So here we go: the history-hack takes on the third wave. Up, up and away. 

The Third Wave Charismatic Movement is known by a few names. Among them are the terms neo-charismatic and hyper-charismatic and of the two, I think the latter makes the most sense. Essentially, it’s a relatively recent movement within evangelicalism, which in itself is a broad term taking in a good many expressions of faith (all of which involve evangelism or the spread of Christianity). To understand the neo-charistmatic movement, we need to know what came before it and what it looks like today.

The first wave: Pentecostalism circa 1900

This “first wave” as some historians call it was undoubtedly an exciting time in the life of the church universal. Marked by revivalists and revivals (such as Azusa Street), it was a renewal movement within protestant Christianity that did away with the cessationist idea that the spiritual gifts had disappeared from the church. The Pentecostal movement saw the restoration of prophecy, healing and speaking in tongues to the church. Since Azusa Street (which seems to have become the historical marker of Pentecostalism’s emergence), this movement has swept across the world and with it, the classical beliefs within Pentecostalism have spread. These include but are not limited to (because lets remember I’m a hack of a historian):

• Evangelism

• The reliability and infallibility of the Bible (in fact, many pentecostals seem to be Biblical Literalists)

• Salvation by grace through faith, and then transformation of ones life through Jesus.

• Baptism, as in baptism into Christ at salvation, then Baptism in water and Baptism with the Holy Spirit where the gift of tongues is received.

• The eminent return of Jesus.

• Other doctrines such as divine healing, spiritual gifts, and worship through songs, prayers, communion, giving and other methods.

All in all, pentecostalism has offered great gifts to the world. It seemed to be an alternative to the stagnation that other faith institutions were/are experiencing. It offered a shared experience of faith which was a relatively new experience. There were some big names in this movement, of course. People like Charles Parham and William J Seymour were teaching on speaking in tongues, divine healing and evangelism. Gone were the silent observances of faith, mediated by the much revered clergy, and in came the participatory revival experiences that immersed believers in a new experience of Christianity.

There have been a good many big names, controversies and developments within the Pentecostal movement over the years (which would take forever to cover off on). I can’t help but think of the tele-evangelists of the 1980’s and 1990’s and wonder where they fit in – names like Kenneth Copeland, Benny Hinn, Yonghi-Cho and others that rang loud through-out my childhood. They were hardly the revivalist types (like Parham and Seymour), but attempted to take the Pentecostal church experience into lounge rooms.

Truthfully, you could exist in a Pentecostal church, be touched by the evangelical charismatic movement and still be influenced by the neo-charismatic movement in tandem. One wave seems to roll into another quiet seemlessly.

The second wave: The evangelical charismatic movement of the 1960’s

Charismatic Evangelicalism amassed a wide following and built on the pentecostal doctrine with two major differences: it did not major on speaking in tongues as evidence of being baptised in the Holy Spirit, but it did major on the spiritual gifts (prophecy, healing, faith, healing, miracles, discernment of spirits, tongues). While, as I said above, these two “waves” or movements seem to roll in pretty effortlessly with each other, there were clashes aplenty. One was this “the failure of Charismatics to embrace traditional Pentecostal taboos on dancing, drinking alcohol, smoking, and restrictions on dress and appearance [that] initiated an identity crisis for classical Pentecostals, who were forced to reexamine long held assumptions about what it meant to be Spirit filled. The liberalizing influence of the Charismatic Movement on classical Pentecostalism can be seen in the disappearance of many of these taboos since the 1960s. Because of this, the cultural differences between classical Pentecostals and charismatics have lessened over time.”

Looking back through my experience in Christianity, it seems that many people don’t know exactly where they fit on the Pentecostal/Charismatic scale. It is said that Pentecostals believe that speaking in tongues is necessary evidence of the Baptism of the Holy Spirit, and that they are more strict on the taboos mentioned in the quote above, while Charismatics aren’t too fussed on either of these things. I guess I grew up Charismatic, but even within this, I was touched by the purity movement which (functionally if not explicitly) placed restrictions on dress and appearance). I had my first drink of alcohol at age 25, and dancing was always a matter in which one had to be careful not to be too sensual. In my experience, Pentecostalism and Charismatics seemed to roll together. The clashes between the movements seem to be put on the back burner as people plunge ahead and roll with the waves when it comes to faith movements. This is fine, but as you know, I’m all about knowing what you believe.

So that was the second wave. The third wave was yet to come:

And here we are: The Neo-charismatic Movement.

In the third wave, we saw the power evangelists gain fame. I’m sure Billy Graham was the trailblazer here. But as time marches on, it’s the big ministries like the Bethel types, the Todd Whites and Heidi Bakers of the world that fly the flag.

Early on, there were a couple of movements that raised eyebrows or attracted a lot of criticism. Two such movements were the so-called Toronto Blessing (marked by so called “holy laughter” and lead by Rodney Howard Browne) and the Pensacola (or Brownesville) Revival. Criticisms that spanned both movements included  a lack of sustainability, and potentially capitalising on the naivety of believers who may have been swept up in a hyped atmosphere that may have had little or nothing to do with God at all.  There was also a bucket of theological issues raised. (I’m not going to critique these revivals today. You can read up on them here if you want).

As a child, I never experienced the Brownsville/Pensacola revival. That was considered to be “geographically specific” and unless you visited the so-called “power centre” you wouldn’t be touched by it. This, of course, is jarringly opposed to the omnipotence and omnipresence of God which leads me to ask “Which spirit was ruling the roost over there?”  I did, however, experience the Toronto Blessing. I sat beside my parents in a crowded auditorium in 1996 and witnessed the immersive worship that was the preliminary to Rodney Howard Browne striding onto the stage and singing “This is that” – his self-penned revival theme-song. To be honest, I was more taken with the lady on the piano who could run a whole band from her seat behind the ivories.  She was the one I wanted to emulate. (And kinda did, I guess).

ANYWAY! This movement characterised by laughter and being “drunk in the spirit” did reach my corner of the world – little Gippsland region in the back blocks of Australia. I remember watching the adults roll about on the floor in church meetings barking and laughing and falling on each-other. I had no idea what was going on, but it proved the perfect opportunity to find your friends and cackle your way through church. No one ever noticed if you leaned in to your bestie, made a quiet remark about how ridiculous someone looked, and then laughed raucously. It was “the Holy Spirit at work”. That was our cover.

Years on, I see little or no fruit from that movement (although I’m happy to be proven wrong if anyone has data). Not a soul saved in my area because of it (that I can recall). No lasting sense of renewal that I know of or could observe. No larger churches. No socio-economic change. No patches of the world touched by this movement that showed lasting declines in depression and anxiety statistics that should go with an outpouring of holy peace and joy. Maybe there were miracles, but these can’t be attributed directly to a movement. If the scripture says “Lay hands on the sick and they will recover” and that happened, then it’s because of the Holy Spirit and not because of so-called “Holy Laughter.” I guess 1 Peter 4:7, which cautions us to be sober and watchful, is my big caution here.  

What was the Toronto Blessing then, and if it was God, why did He do it? I don’t know. Ask the real historians. But the thing we have to be watchful of now is the theological issues that are raising their heads as the neo-charismatic movement beds itself down and marches forward under the current big brands in Christianity.

The Big Theological Differences in Neo-Charismatics

In the neo-charismatic movement, we have gone from the gifts of the spirit, to emphasis on signs and wonders, and the supernatural. I find this interesting. We seem to be upping the ante from one movement to the next and I have to wonder whether this is at least partially manufactured to fit an audience that demands more from the entertainment it consumes and has less of an attention span to consume it. Tv scenes are shorter and more intense. Movies are more gripping, with more special effects and quickly escalating plot lines. Social media has seemingly affected the attention spans of readers to sound-bytes and status updates.

Why do I mention these seemingly unrelated issues? Because along with these shortened attention spans and the escalating nature of entertainment in the secular world, we see shorter sermons, more intensive immersive worship experiences, electric atmospheres, shows of signs, wonders and miracles and (in my opinion) less emphasis on a well-considered and well informed faith. How do you build a solid, deep and well informed faith in a short sermon that is often more loaded with pop psychology than with scripture? (Look, there are some wonderful churches out there! I’m taking a broad brush to the issue)

My big concern within this third wave is that we can’t and shouldn’t treat Jesus like a drug. If we don’t feel Him, that doesn’t change His reality. It shouldn’t. But if we have been raised into Christianity on a steady diet of signs, wonders, miracles and spiritual gifts, immersive worship experiences and communal expressions of faith, then if our faith suddenly becomes rocked by an estrangement from church or community, and those feelings go away or we pray and don’t get healed – who is God? Where is God? Did He disappear? Am I going to Hell now?

Many a theologian has raised concerns over the errant teachings that have come out during this third wave. A personal concern of mine is that with increasing numbers of independent churches, and a decrease in emphasis on doctrine and qualification (with calling taking its place as if we don’t need both), then it seems we are perfectly poised for an epidemic of toxic, authoritarian or even cultish churches to emerge. These do not serve the body of Christ. These can leave immense damage in their wake when a believer wakes up to what is going on and has to extract themselves and their family from its grasp. (Read more here)

We don’t need bizarre manifestations for Christianity to be relevant. In fact, that could make it a laughing stock. We don’t need to ‘use’ Jesus like a drug to fix our mood or elevate our faith and devotion. Christianity, true followership of Christ, comes from a deep place within us. It is not a political stance. It doesn’t demand Dominionism (as we see in the NAR) or showiness. If we continue to create this hyped-up Christianity, then we are prepping ourselves for a mass exodus from the faith when inevitably, the individuals that make up the massive evangelical following worldwide hit hard times and start to question their faith.

True faith, to me, is deep, sober, grounded in the word, grown in compassion and love, and practiced regardless of church attendance (which of course we are exhorted to do so we don’t lose faith in the hard times anyway). How do you build such a faith if yours is built purely on the experience of neo-charismatic Christianity? For all the hype, for all the miracles, for all the songs and sermons, surely the personal expression of faith offered to God in the quiet, unseen moments is more meaningful. Just my take on it!

So there you have it: third wave/ neo-charismatic movement. I’ll admit, I’m a participant in the third wave. I just do it with my own Bible in hand rather than a firm reliance on my pastors wisdom. To be honest, I much prefer it that way.

See you in a few days for one heck of a series!

(Okay Kit. Stop procrastinating and write it!) 

PEACE!

Kit K

What is the NAR?

I started writing this kick arse piece on the intersection of Christianity and paganism in modern Christian practices around spiritual warfare (yeah – what a topic, right?), then I realised something: ya’ll really need to know what the NAR is. So here’s a crash course in an unbranded movement that seems to have taken off in many Evangelical churches/networks across the world. While there is some good stuff nestled in there I’m sure, there are also some very real red flags that should have us all a little bit woke.

If you followed my series on Dominionism (first article linked here – follow it through if you haven’t already!), then the term NAR might be a little familiar to you. It stands for “New Apostolic Reformation” and it refers to a movement in Christendom which believes that God is restoring the so-called “lost offices” of apostle and prophet.

Now that in itself is of no real concern to me. Depending on where you stand theologically, you might not believe that apostles and prophets ever really disappeared. The idea of them coming back and completing the five fold ministry referenced in Ephesians 4:11-16 is no biggie.

But the NAR has some interesting theology that runs alongside that belief. Only one of them is Dominionism, although it can be argued that it is one of the distinguishing characteristics [1]. Berean Research stated that ” Leading figures in this seemingly loosely organized movement claim that these prophets and apostles alone have the power and authority to execute God’s plans and purposes on earth. They believe they are laying the foundation for a global church, governed by them. They place a greater emphasis on dreams, visions and extra-biblical revelation than they do on the Bible, claiming that their revealed teachings and reported experiences (e.g. trips to heaven, face-to-face conversations with Jesus, visits by angels) can not be proven by the ‘old’ Scripture [1].” 

That quote has been lifted from the interwebs because I really couldn’t phrase it better if I tried. The thing is, the scripture repeatedly cautions us against adding to the word of God or taking away from it (Deut 4:2, Deut 12:32, Rev 22:18), understanding it poorly (Matt 22:29),  or twisting it/getting too creative with it (Matt 24:24, Genesis 3;1-4 and Mark 7:13). We are also encouraged to be “sober and watchful” in 1 Peter 4:7. Yet these movements that major on untested, extra-Biblical “revelatory” teachings leave us wide open for a pseudo-Biblical con job if we aren’t watchful and doctrinally grounded.

But hey – the mood sweeps you along, right? And it feels good, right? So that has to be right, right?

If only there was a sarcasm sign in the English keyboard. Look, I’m not saying that it is always skewiff, as good people with hearts for God are swept up in this movement and God can bring good things out of literally anything I’m sure! All I’m saying is we need to approach things with caution and that involves knowing the finer points of what this movement stands for, as it may not be obvious that a church or network is in fact NAR.

In 2011, NAR big-wig C. Peter Wagner wrote a piece for Charisma Magazine. In it, he made the assertion that the NAR was not a cult [2]. As I’ve remarked before, you can ask anyone who’s in a cult “are you in a cult?” and the answer will be no. Thus I don’t believe we can put much stock in his rebuttal. What we can judge this movement by its theological markers. Wagner listed the key values of the movement, which by his own admission has no membership list or structure. Here are the big points (which can vary from church to church). The NAR beliefs include:

• Apostolic governance

• The office of the prophet

• Dominionism

• Theocracy

• Extra-biblical revelation

• Supernatural signs and wonders

• Relational structures

Wagner “wrote that most of the churches in this movement have active ministries of spiritual warfare. As an example of this warfare he claimed that God acted through him to end mad-cow disease in Germany. In an article responding to criticism of the NAR, Wagner noted that those who affiliate themselves with the movement believe the Apostles’ Creed and all the orthodoxy of Christian doctrine, so that the movement is therefore not heretical [3].” I’ll be jumping into a discussion on spiritual warfare next week but for now…at least you know how mad cow disease was cured. *Shrugs*

I’m happy to know that the Apostles Creed isn’t contradicted in NAR churches, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for heresy. Frankly, the Bible is a large and complex book that contains a lot more doctrinal points than those covered off in the Apostles Creed.

Alright friend! Lets break these bad boys down.

Apostolic governance:    Okay, so this is basically the idea that there is a “divine order” rather than a hierarchy, and at the top of that divine order is the apostle who answers to God alone [2]. This sorta kinda comes from Ephesians 4:11 which lists apostles first in the list of ministries. However, it can be problematic as the nature of an apostles appointment to that “office” is somewhat of a grey area.

In my observation, many apostles are self-appointed or appointed by peers. Thus, there’s really not anything to stop a convincingly charismatic person from ascending to that role regardless of their qualifications or doctrinal strength. This, in fact, is a common criticism. Wagner argues strongly against it, saying that they need to be called to the position and appointed by qualified and respected leaders. But any time I have heard someone called an Apostle, there has been no trace of who anointed them as such. It’s called a ‘recognizable grace on their life’ or some such thing. Apparently God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called. I’ve got no issues with this either, but if an ‘apostle’ is self-appointed or dubiously appointed and answered to no one but God alone, then this leaves a gaping hole in protections against heresy, bad doctrine or a questionable ability to “hear God” accurately. It leaves it wide open for a human with charisma to ascend to power and wield it badly over the lives of their sheep.

The scripture also says that all authority is appointed by God. Thus, the apostle shouldn’t be greater than the pastor, teacher, evangelist or prophet. Yet when they occupy such revered territory in their movements, an almost mystical idealising in the minds of their followers, they may claim to hear directly from God (i.e. Extra biblical revelation) and have no one to keep them accountable (i.e. Relational structure). The flow on effects in the lives of followers can be massive.

How do you tell when an apostle has fallen for the age old pitfall of pride, or let their doctrine come from the depths of their own human, flawed, souls and not from God? Who’s to know?

I do believe that there is an apostle in my life at present. However, he would be blissfully unaware of the fact that anyone thinks that. He doesn’t even like being called “pastor.” There is no grandstanding. There is no title-attainment or bowing and scraping. Just humility, a deep respect for his service and teachings among his network and a strength in theology and equipping of the saints that I haven’t seen equalled yet.

The office of the prophet. Okay. I have no big issue with the office of the prophet. I have an issue with an over-emphasis on the role of the prophetic. To me, Ephesians 4 is a picture of a balanced five fold ministry that exists to ensure the needs of Christians are well met. Too much emphasis on prophecy with not enough emphasis on teaching or love has a potential juggernaut of side effects.

I grew up inside a prophetic movement. While I do believe that in my lifetime I have met two (perhaps more) legitimate prophets, I believe I have met a good many people who treat prophecy like a plaything, or worse, like a type of divination. For example, prophesying a music ministry over the kid playing keyboard isn’t prophecy. It’s an educated guess. Prophesying an administrative role over someone when there is an administrative lack in the church isn’t prophecy. Its manipulation, manipulation that can enslave that person to a fabricated call God never assigned them purely because they are obedient and devout. Of course, prophecy can be accurate and legitimate. But frankly, we can test that. We test it by checking it against the word of God, by whether it rang a bell with the recipient or by whether it came true. Sadly, a lot of prophecy goes unchecked and is blindly followed.

Dominionism. Well, friend. I’ve talked about this. Here, here, here and here. (Seriously, I’m proud of that series. Read it! haha)

Theocracy. Theocracy, according to Wagner isn’t necessarily an entirely Christian run state per se [1], but rather an endpoint of dominionism with Christians occupying positions of dominion in the so-called “seven domains of society.” But…I’ve spoken about my concerns on that before.

Extra-biblical revelation. In the beginning of this piece, I listed a bunch of scriptures that caution against it. But if you’ll allow me to expand on my concerns, in a system where followers are taught to accept (with little or no question) the revelation of an ‘apostle or prophet’ who has a special communication line to God, there is a huge risk for undue and unhelpful influence. Power has the capacity to corrupt. Good intentions can become tainted with self-interest, and where there are no accountability structures or theological qualifications, this can be dangerous. Imagine someone using the pulpit and speaking from a place of “divine authority,” but being seduced by their own ideas and representing them as Gods own. Wow, wow, the damage this can do.

Supernatural signs and wonders. This is an interesting one. Many people believe that signs and wonders have ceased. Others believe they are still alive and well in third world countries but are not the realm of developed nations. There are major movements (especially one major movement with influence across the world that shall remain nameless lol), that encourages its believers to live a supernatural lifestyle, expect signs wonders and miracles, and alleges that full and complete healing is guaranteed with salvation. Let’s think about that: if you get saved at a crusade but your arm is still as broken at the end of the night as it was at the beginning. Well you mustn’t be saved, huh? What if you have been believing God for healing for a long time, or even waiting on God to provide healing without consulting the medical professionals available to you. This is a dangerous doctrine – both spiritually and potentially physically. The fact is God can do what He likes. But if He doesn’t do what we like, He is still God. Full and complete healing, or the ability to perform miracles is neither a litmus test for genuine salvation nor a legitimate call to ministry. In fact, I’ve watched an atheist performer do a pretty good job of healing the sick, too [8].

Thats not to say I don’t believe in miracles. I somewhat sheepishly admit my own disbelief in miracles was interrupted by a spontaneous remission that happened in a church hall (when I had a foul attitude and was determined not to be healed. So there’s that). So I believe they happen. I just also happen to believe that in a lot of cases, its hype, fluff and bubble that allows us to tell ourselves a different story. And in my life as a neuroscience blogger, I have read a lot research that shows just how powerful the mind is.

As a Christian, I believe God is powerful too. But if you don’t experience full and complete healing, or if you lay hands on the sick and they don’t recover, you haven’t failed.

Relational structures. I’m the first to admit that organised religion has a load of issues with it. From dogma, to structures covering up abuse, there are faults. But my belief is that independent churches represent a greater risk. There is safety in accountability. When we remove that, when we allow people to pick and choose their apostles and appoint themselves as leaders who wield great influence over impressionable and often vulnerable people, then this is a recipe for danger. Organised religion has a long way to go before it is the organisation that I believe God ordained to represent Him on earth. But there are some good things about it: a grievance structure, and a clear path forward for qualification and ordination to ministry are just some.

The other thing about relational structures is that it can make it very difficult to resolve an issue or to disclose abuse and have it dealt with. If a relational structure means “we are banding together to accomplish a mission” and someone makes a disclosure of abuse or mistreatment, then the temptation to cover it up and protect the relational structure can be immensely tempting. I’m not the only one who has seen this play out in their own lives, but I’m telling you from my experience alone.

So there you go. Thats the crash course in the NAR movement sweeping the world.

It is my belief that a person is free to believe what they want to believe, and live out their faith the way they want to. But the way to a well-rounded faith is to know what you believe and know what you are involved in. If you scrutinise the different areas of your faith and don’t like how some of them play out, then denial isn’t the answer to that problem.

But then again I’m a geek who loves getting into the nitty gritty of church, Christianity and the word of God.

Until next week,

PEACE! 
Kit K. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

1. Berean Research. https://bereanresearch.org/dominionism-nar/

2. Charisma Magazine https://www.charismanews.com/opinion/31851

3. Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Apostolic_Reformation#cite_note-:0-1

4. https://kitkennedy.com/2018/11/29/what-is-dominionism/

5. https://kitkennedy.com/2018/12/05/whats-the-biblical-basis-of-dominionism-is-there-one/

6. https://kitkennedy.com/2018/12/20/dominionism-and-politics-in-the-era-of-trump-and-scomo/

7. https://kitkennedy.com/2019/01/09/why-im-not-a-dominionist-anymore/

8. https://www.premierchristianradio.com/News/UK/Derren-Brown-reveals-faith-healing-trick

Theological Catfishing

“Catfishing” was a term inspired by a 2010 documentary where a person was lured into a romantic relationship with someone online, only to discover that the real person behind the online presence was entirely different. Disappointingly different.  In a modern world where social media rules, catfishing is rife. It is a deceitful act where someone creates a false persona, on purpose, to lure people in by false pretences. Of course, there are degrees of severity, from doctoring a picture far beyond recognition to inventing entire personalities. But you get the idea. 

So what’s this got to do with church, Kit? I’m glad you asked.

I’m surely not the only one who has noticed that churches aren’t called what they are anymore. We used to know what a church believed based on their name. Lutheran, Methodist, Catholic, Anglican, Baptist, etc – we knew what these names meant. Now we have things like “Elevate Church” “Hillsong,” “Vertical Church” to name a few. These are some of the big brand names in Christendom, but the trend has trickled down to local churches too. You name it, there’s a church called that. I could name a hundred churches that brand themselves this way, but I guess that’s not the point I’m trying to get to.

That point is this: What do they believe? What is their theology? In all too many cases, we don’t have a clue. We just follow along, immerse ourselves in the goodness of it all, until one day it doesn’t feel so good. One potential juggernaut for these inevitable clashes is that of ambiguous theology. “Oh, I thought you believed this. But you believe the exact opposite. This affects me deeply. Where do I fit now?”

Marketing matters for churches nowadays, and I absolutely understand that necessity. If you jump online, you will find an ocean of slick branding, relentlessly friendly and upbeat social media pages (which admittedly I contribute to), pictures of smiling faces and coffee machines, and video after video of amazing music and lively worship. It all combines to present the hook by which new attendees are attracted.

Though it is a reality, and perhaps an inevitability, there are a couple of potential problems with this:

1. We can’t confuse branding with evangelism. You don’t undertake the Great Commission by running a Facebook page. Real evangelism involves real connection. While I don’t discount the necessity of social media for facilitating Christian community, we can’t rely on it to do the whole thing for us. Let us not reduce Christ to content.

2. If we aren’t upfront about what we believe, then people can join us on false pretences. If when true intent comes to the fore, it doesn’t match the public or evangelistic narrative, the repercussions for a persons faith, participation, self-worth, and even mental health can be serious.

I’m a strong believer that we need to be upfront about what we believe. I’m a stronger believer that ambiguity is dangerous. It was recently International Women’s Day. So perhaps this is a good example of how theological catfishing is problematic.

Imagine you’re a girl who has grown up in church, hoping to use your gifts and talents for God. You want to be a pastor and you are given no indication that this would be an issue. Imagine wondering why your male counterparts keep on getting the opportunities you wished you had, if it was not made clear that your church was not as egalitarian as you thought it was. Wouldn’t it make you internalise the problem and ask “Why am I not good enough?” What would constant (and potentially unexplained) rejections do to your self worth and participation in faith? How would it affect how you view God and His heart towards you? What would it do for your trust in people if, after years of serving, someone finally tells you that you aren’t getting promoted because you are female.

Don’t empower someone using your words and your sermons if you can’t deal with what they do with empowerment.

The truth is many churches don’t believe women have the right to leadership  (despite Biblical examples like Deborah, Junia, Phoebe, Euodia, Syntyche and others – more on that here). I know that many churches are complementarian, believing women don’t belong in senior leadership, or positions of authority at all. I used to be complementarian. I don’t judge anyone for not being egalitarian in their beliefs (believing all people are equal and able to serve/lead) as there are all types of churches and doctrines, many of which can be argued strongly from the Bible. However, I feel obligated to flag the danger in not allowing your theology to be clearly seen before it becomes a barrier to inclusion for someone who already thought they were accepted by the church.

There’s a simple solution to this: Be upfront with your theology. Because empowering a little girl right up until the point where she is a woman wanting to serve God with heart, soul and vocation, then telling her she has no place in leadership is harmful. Because that young woman, has given her time, energy and effort for years to sow into a cause she thought she was fully accepted in. She was used, then disempowered in the cruelest of glass ceilings.

It is, in fact, this little-known phenomenon known as ‘theological catfishing’.

Another group of marginalised Christians who fall victim to theological catfishing all the time is that of LGBTI+ Christians. I’m going to say something here that shouldn’t be controversial at all, but it is: I am a progressive Christian. I support LGBTI+ Christians and believe they have equal right to participate in faith and service. This is my individual, well-considered stance and I’ll tell you all about why another day. For now, I just want to flag this catfishing trend that does great harm to these individuals (and indeed others who have been mislead by ambiguous theology).

The harm I see in the lives that have touched mine and the stories they have relayed is this: We tell them they are loved, and accepted. We tell them that Jesus loves them just the way they are. Often, we have them serve on our teams until they decide to live authentically and be “out” then we remove them from leadership, having already used their talents to our ends and dangled the carrot of love and acceptance in front of their eyes.

Love and acceptance that should be healing, faith that should be a solace and a joy, is then another place of harm and judgement. When love is our great commandment, when compassion is our great example through Jesus, I believe we need to do better.

Research already shows that this group has a significantly higher risk of depression and suicidality than other groups (read more here). We also know that discrimination and exclusion are listed as “the key causal factors of LGBTI mental ill-health and suicidality [1].” We need to be treating them with more compassion and care. Not less. I know that there is a lot of debate around this issue, and I’m not going to get into that today, but I will say this:

Don’t say you are egalitarian if you do not believe that LGBTI people have every right to participate as fully in faith and ministry as their straight, cisgender counterparts. That is theological catfishing.

“Welcoming but not affirming” is not welcoming at all.

I am learning how to be a better ally to the people near and dear to me who are LGBTI+ and in my travels around the Bible, I’ve found there is absolutely no theological issue with my pure-egalitarian stance and my decision to love with no “ifs’, but’s or despite’s.” I’ll tell you all about the how and why another day. The message for today is this:

Mark 12:30-31 – Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’[a] 31 The second is this: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’[b] There is no commandment greater than these.

Love doesn’t catfish people by ambiguous theology, whether they are women, minorities, or LGBTI+ Christians. Love is honest. Love is kind. Love is not ambiguous. Love grapples with the deep issues other people face, because love wants to be with them in their plight. Love lifts the broken. It doesn’t break the lifted.

Think about it: what harm could be done when someone is converted on false pretences? Who then, is God, if His representatives deceived a person through a promise of unconditional acceptance and empowerment in order to convert them then taking that away.

My warning against theological catfishing comes after watching friends grapple with it. It comes after hearing a dear Christian friend choose not to attend church again because of the risk of theological catfishing. Once bitten, forever shy. There are more stories I could cite, as at least in my part of the world, its pretty darn hard to find a modern, affirming church. We’ve got a long way to go. Tis is just one story, but no doubt a very common one. We can tell ourselves that by hiding the less palatable elements of our theology, we are evangelising better. But if we are driving people away from God more permanently by revealing these things after time rather than go on a deep journey of understanding and discovery, then I counter that this is not sustainable or genuine evangelism.

It’s just false advertising.

God doesn’t need a PR manager. He needs people with good theology, open hearts, honest mouths, and a lot of love to give. He can handle the rest. Another day, I will tell you why  I am a progressive Christian. But today I’m not brave enough. I’m only brave enough to implore you to love better. And that should truly be every Christians job.

REFERENCES:

1. https://margmowczko.com/new-testament-women-church-leaders/

2. https://www.beyondblue.org.au/docs/default-source/default-document-library/bw0258-lgbti-mental-health-and-suicide-2013-2nd-edition.pdf?sfvrsn=2  

Why I’m Not a Dominionist Anymore

When I sat down to write this series, I knew I had to write a personal reflection because a helicopter view of the dominionism issue pales in comparison to the personal experience of it. Still, the first versions of this blog piece had too many elements. Too many other peoples stories. So I’m stripping it back and having a go at writing my experience of dominionism. 

An experience I found crushing.

From the time I was 15, I studied a book called ‘In His Steps’ as part of a discipleship program I was in. The plot of this book involved the editor of a local paper who started to run it the way he believed Jesus would have – censoring certain ads, posting good news and omitting other stories – that sort of thing. That book began a movement that spawned millions of plastic bracelets that asked ‘WWJD? (What would Jesus do?).’ It had its upsides, sure. The very question should call us to a higher level of ethics, compassion and altruism. Right?

For my church, it began our slide into dominion theology. We just didn’t give it that name. I don’t know that we gave it a name at all.

I was 15 when I was introduced to the idea of taking over positions of influence for the cause of Christ. I was 30 when I started consciously questioning it. I was 32 before I gave it words, asking my husband in the quietness of our loungeroom whether the end justified the means. Here I am, 35, no longer going to a Dominionist church, and finally talking about it. And perhaps not a moment too soon.

It’s an interesting thing to reflect on. As a 15 year old who wanted to serve God to the best of her ability, I was a sponge. I soaked up all the teaching. However, in comparing notes with my husband, I realise that I always had reservations. But I felt strongly that if I did not participate, it would mean trouble for me somehow. I also knew that questioning authority was not the done thing in my church. It was dishonouring or rebellious and these things were snuffed out pretty hard.  All my friends and family were in boots and all. If I wanted to be part of their lives, I had to be too. So I became a reluctant participant in the Dominionists efforts of my church.

It’s interesting – how you can justify some things to yourself when your entire life is wrapped up in it, when you know how difficult things will be for you if you raise your hand and say “Umm, I’ve got questions.” I certainly silenced my misgivings for a long time.

I absolutely know that not everyones experience will be like this. I’m only talking about mine. Even my husband’s was slightly different. He moved from our state’s capital to be part of this ‘rare true church.‘ If there was Coolaid to drink, he skulled it. Over time, the rose coloured glasses would shatter for him too. But the happy memories he looks back on from that time are not mine to share.

For years, the church (which my husband and I have moved on from) was involved in an international network with heavy Dominionist overtones. Catch cries like “What time is it? Its time to take over!”, “Dominion in every domain” and “Let’s go take the city” were met with songs about laying down our own ambition to serve the cause. We talked this. We sang this. We worked this.

Over time, I became aware that working out my salvation had become hard work – a fact that seemed at odds with Ephesians 2:8-9 “Salvation is by grace through faith and not of works, lest any man should boast” and 2 Corinthians 12:9 which talks about God’s grace being sufficient. I was hearing less and less of these scriptures, instead hearing constant reminders of how we must carry out our primary assignment or risk Gods grace being removed from our lives.

I now realise that second bit is unbiblical, and the truth I need to align myself with is that Gods love is the same no matter what. It would not change if I never attended church. It would not change if I was an utter failure at everything I attempted. Gods grace and His love never fails.

But my entire church,  family and social community was so caught up in this movement that I dared not question it. My husbands natural interest in politics got swept into this, and the results of it were deeply uncomfortable for us at times. My natural desire to write, and write fiction, got swept into this. All of a sudden the hobby I’d taken up as a means of carving out some me-time in my crazy life was my ‘primary assignment.’ I was to conquer the mountain of arts and entertainment.

To me, it was more pressure, where I had only taken it up to escape the pressure that existed around me. Life had become relentless hard work. Salvation had become a curse. My only hope was a short life. But after four pregnancy losses, a fifth pregnancy finally survived beyond the seven week mark and I had to start asking what kind of life I wanted for my child. By virtue of this, I started asking what kind of a life my heavenly Father wanted for me.

That pondering turned out to be revelatory.

The Fruit of Dominionism

At the time I wrote my first novel, I was running a business, working full-time and serving on my  church’s music and leadership teams. This meant that with meetings, bookwork, practices, Sunday services, and so on, I barely had time to myself. The business was a “kingdom” business I had entered with many misgivings. It turned out to be seven very difficult years. But it was in service of “taking the mountain of business and commerce.” I was working as a subcontractor in the education space, not just turning up to a job but trying to do my bit to ‘take the mountain’ of education. I was giving 120% in every aspect of my life and my adrenal system didn’t love this. I fell into exhaustion, constant migraines, and my battle with post-traumatic stress disorder became a complicated one to win.

When every action or inaction has eternal consequences, you can’t just take a sick day, can you? In fact, there are many things that fall by the wayside.

The wheels started to come off subconsciously as I started to look around and see exhausted people. A number of my friends were suffering with depression and anxiety. I myself was battling crippling fatigue. Many a lunch break was spent asleep, even asleep in my car if I was working out of town. But I brushed it off. It was too hard to think about.

Then I started writing my third novel. It was supposed to paint a picture of what it looked like when “the kingdom of God” was manifest on Earth – i.e. when Dominionism finally reached its peak and Christians had taken over everything. I didn’t like anything I could see in my minds eye as I listened to message after message searching for hints. So I looked to the Bible and found my answer in Romans 14:7 “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.”

My Dominionist experience had been governed by a driving mandate to gain power and influence in order to bring the kingdom of God (ie. righteousness). But it had come at the expense of peace and joy. If life as a Christian was a three-legged stool – it was crazy wonky, having only one leg to hold it up.

After watching a documentary the lights came on. I didn’t want to live this life. I didn’t even want to write about it, because I didn’t like what I saw in my minds eye when dominionists took over. I was a fiction writer. I could create utopia if I wanted. But the clashes were too deep even for fiction.

Losing Dominionism

Between October and November 2015, my husband and I quietly lost dominionism. If you know our personal story, you will also know we lost a lot more than just a bit of bad theology. But I won’t cover all of that here.

When we lost Dominionism, we also lost a sense of destiny and significance. To be honest, it was a painful loss. We had been told our family and church had national significance. Having entered this movement as youths, when we were idealistic and wanted to change the world, it had been a seductive belief, and there’s a risk our identity had been somehow built around it.

People ask me why someone would get involved in Dominionism. My answer is two-fold: 1) they may not realise they are, as this doctrine seduces you by degrees. 2) It is indeed seductive. If you are a Dominionist, you are not a normal person slugging it out in your job. You are destined for greatness. You have God on your side. You are, in a way, super human. You are destined to take over.

Destined.

I see it now as a grandiosity, and inflated sense of self. But the point of Christianity is Galatians 2:20 – Christ living in and through us. There’s no greater example of humility and servitude than Christ.

Still, losing that grandiosity was painful. Imagine going from the Christian version of Sidney Bristow on Alias – superspy with a super destiny masquerading as a run of the mill office worker – to being an average Joe asking ‘What is the meaning of life?’

It took three years to get to where I am now. It took a lot of pain, a lot of tears, and a lot of sleepless nights. But where I am is happy, at peace with my faith, still grappling with my grief but happy. My three legged stool isn’t wonky any more because it isn’t just righteousness trying to hold the whole thing up. Peace and Joy are there too.

The Question of Powerlessness

Unsurprisingly, my husband and I have spent many a late night up talking about why we have gone on the journey we have. When it comes to Dominionism at least, I have a theory. Or rather a hypothesis, because obviously it is unproven (can you tell I work as a research writer?)

My theory is that another seductive thing about Dominionism is that it shields us from our own powerlessness.

The church used to be a fearsome and powerful institution. It was the measuring stick against which society sized itself up. To swear on the Bible was deep and meaningful. To sin was mortally wounding. The church lead the charge with social justice, with serving widows and orphans and trying to make the world a better place.

Somewhere along the line we lost that higher ground. The secular world now exhibits a greater dedication to social justice, and often finds the church as the thing that opposes it. Government hums along without needing the churches permission or looking to it for guidance in most instances.

Dominionism, to me, seems to have its roots in fear not love. If we fear losing our rights, fear losing our relevance, then Dominionism is the antidote. It tells us we are destined to forcibly retake the ground we have lost. That God demands it of us.

Yet the higher law we are supposed to live under is the law of love. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and strength, and love your neighbour as yourself. Love-based faith, not fear-based activism.

Right now, at this point in my life, I do not live in fear of my powerlessness. I don’t, because my faith is in God who is all-powerful. I do not fear losing my rights. Because if I lose my rights, then I share in Christ’s sufferings, which according to my Bible means I’ll also share in His glory. I don’t need his glory. I am comfortable with not sharing his sufferings. But if I do, that’s ok.

It would be a light on the hill moment. It would be an opportunity to share a little light in a dark world. That would be ok.

I hear the persecution narrative from dominionists. But I don’t view Western Christians as persecuted. I’m happy to give that crown to our Middle Eastern brothers and sisters. There are places where the crown of persecution can be rightly worn.

It is not in a representative democracy where the worst persecution a Christian is likely to face is a deletable comment or an angry emoji reaction on Facebook.

It’s blunt. But it’s true.

I may have lost a lot, but losing Dominionism isn’t a thing I grieve. Three years on, I’m seeing purpose in my life again and I’m enjoying life that once again has peace and joy. I do believe that God has a plan for all of us. But I don’t think there’s anything grandiose in that. There is beauty in it for sure, though. And that is more than enough.

If you missed the rest of this series, then here’s the rest: 

What is Dominionism? 
Is there a Biblical basis for Dominionism?
Dominionism and politics in the era of Trump and ScoMo

Is There a Biblical Basis for Dominionism?

As a research writer, I never show my hand as far as my personal belief or individual take on a topic is concerned. I simply state the facts, spit out a list of references and tie it all together in a neat little narrative. So it was a little out of character for me to show my hand so clearly in the last article, titled “What is Dominionism?” I am anti-Dominionism, a conviction I hold so strongly that I came out and said it, right off the bat. I’ll talk about the personal reflections that lead to that standpoint in another article. Today, I’m talking about the Biblical reasoning.

Depending on the context, I either laugh or groan internally when I hear people say, “Well I believe the Bible!” Frankly, it’s a complicated book! You can’t just believe the Bible. You need to consider which lens you are viewing it through (and it is inevitable that you will be viewing it through a particular philosophical or theological lens, even if you don’t know it). Are you a Biblical literalist? A Calvinist? A progressive? Are you attempting to view it through the lens of Christ Himself? Or perhaps through the eyes of a preacher you follow? It’s a complicated question. Someone with a decent grounding in theology could argue for or against a good many doctrines regardless on the basis of scripture.

Call me a poor theologian if you like, and I will happily wear that, but I just can’t argue for Dominionism from scripture. Add to that one simple fact: Dominionism comes from Biblical Reconstructionism – the brain child of Rushdoony (and other influencers for sure), who was also a totalitarian. So its kind of counterintuitive to argue for dominionism, and against Kim Jong Un. Just saying. But anyway. On with the show.

Is there a scriptural basis for Dominionism?

For the hard-line devotees of Dominionist theology, there are a few scriptures that seemingly justify it. Even for those who find themselves in tacit agreement with dominionism, these scriptures seem like justification on first look. I would argue, however, that they don’t actually back the militant Dominionist approach. The key scriptures often used to argue for Dominionism are the following:

Genesis 1:26 “Then God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it; have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves on earth.”

Luke 19:13 “A certain nobleman went into a far country to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return. He called his ten servants and delivered them ten pounds, and said unto them, “Occupy till I come.”

Matthew 28:18-20 “Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

And finally, Matthew 16: 15-20. “He said to them, But who do you say that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, You are the Christ, the Son of the living God. And Jesus answered and said to him, Blessed are you, Simon Barjona: for flesh and blood has not revealed it unto thee, but my Father who is in heaven. And I say to you, That you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

Okay! So lets talk about it.

Genesis 1:26 seems like it should be the first place we argue for Dominionism. It’s also the first place we should argue against it. I really can’t say it better than this [3]:

“This verse is taken by Christian Dominionists as a divine mandate to claim dominion over the earth, physically, spiritually and politically. However, this is taking a large step away from the text, which only says to have dominion over the creatures of earth, and to “subdue” the earth. It is likely that this verse simply means for humanity to a) multiply and expand over the face of the earth instead of staying in one place and b) keep and take care of all other living things.”

Pure and simply, and perhaps most tellingly, there were no political, business, media or education entities in Genesis 1. This passage of scripture specifically names plants and animals. It makes no mention of any spiritual or political dominion.

It is my belief that Genesis 1:26 was talking about spreading out over the earth and taming creation, not about taking dominion over or subduing people. When we think our job is to subdue people, we have problems. Subduing people means taking away their rights and ignoring their hardship – these are two things that the God we see (especially in the New Testament) would never sanction.

As responsible Christians, we need to read the Bible in context and consider the kind of God who created us. Why would He grant us free will (two trees in the garden) only to take it away in the next breath by instituting a system that subdues and disenfranchises some people groups by granting power to others? Dominionism involves Christians ascending the halls of power, but at the cost of what? As they say so often in The Handmaids Tale (seemingly a cautionary tale when it comes to theocratic dystopias), “Better isn’t better for everyone.”

Then we move on to Luke 19:13 – “Occupy till I come.” In other translations, it simply says “Do business until I return.”It was a parable spoken by Jesus describing good stewardship, illustrating that a good steward doesn’t just look after what is entrusted to them, they improve upon it.

I agree with this premise. I just don’t think it’s about dominionism. This passage is not militant. It is not forceful. It does not allege that these stewards should engage in covert activities in order to carry out their master’s mandate. In these ways, it does not resemble dominionism at all. In fact, if anything, it resembles servanthood.

If you look at this scripture through an economic lens, it makes sense. If a master is gone ten years, then the ten pounds buried in the ground has lost value, as it does not keep up with inflation. Its an illustration that bears thinking about: whatever we don’t improve upon is given to entropy. You could look at this scripture and see it as a picture of the church – Jesus was going, and would return at an unknown point in the future. If we stayed the way we were, never sharing the good news of Christ with others, then Christianity and the gift of salvation would have died out with the 12 disciples and the other followers of Christ during his time on Earth. “Do business until I come” could mean “keep this movement going. Pass on my teachings. Keep growing.”

How on Earth it has come to mean taking dominion over politics, business, education, arts, etc. is beyond me. Can we reflect for a moment? Even Jesus didn’t do this during his time on Earth. His chosen nation, the one He was born into, wasn’t the ruling class of the day. It was not the powerful Roman empire. It was the nation of Israel.

Perhaps this scripture ties most closely to the Great Commission of Matthew 28. Yes, Jesus charged us with being stewards of this message, and making sure all heard it and had the opportunity to be saved. This is a beautiful thing, when done right. But again, it is a message of love, of forgiveness, and of Jesus sacrifice. It is not political. It is not business related. It is not militant.

I can’t ignore the fact that many a country was colonised with Matthew 28 in the minds of the explorers of the olden days. Many a nations first people still bear the scars of colonisation. Again, I don’t know how the Great Commission could translate into the atrocities committed during those times. I can’t even bring myself to mention them in this post, because their damage is so great. How would Jesus feel about it? To know that the sacrifice of His life for the redemption of mankind somehow meant the subjugation and abuse of people He meant for us to love and care for.

It’s a topic too large and too complicated for me. Even this month, a Christian was killed while trying to reach an unreached tribe. I do agree that the Great Commission charges us with making sure all have an opportunity to respond to the message of Christ. I don’t agree that it should be done in ways that are unethical, or that abuse, or remove rights. That, to me, is in direct opposition to what Jesus was about.

Often, I see Dominionist theology’s adherants taking their so-called mandate to be a command to vocally oppose ideologies they do not agree with. I’m sure in the future, I’ll blog on this too. But for now, this: can we learn the lessons of the harm done via imperialism and colonialism, and avoid committing the spiritual equivalent by forcing our righteousness down the throats of people whose rights we intend to take away? Can we reflect instead on John 3:16 and realise there are no caveats? That God loved all of us to the point where He sent His Son to die for us?

Anyway….

Now finally, Matthew 16. There are lots of times through-out scripture where the term “dominion” is used. But overwhelmingly, these are referring to God having dominion. In Matthew 16, Jesus mentions the ‘the keys to the kingdom’ in a conversation with Peter. This, to many, symbolises dominion over a fallen Earth returning to mankind. But my big thought here is this: Jesus said to Peter that “on this rock” He would build His church. The rock was Jesus or the revelation of who Jesus was/is. Ownership of the church still belonged to Jesus, never to Peter. The keys to the Kingdom described governance of the church, which, in all messianic prophecy throughout scripture, rested on Jesus shoulders. Not on that of man. For me, it’s a bit of a long bow to think that Peter replaces hundreds of years of messianic prophecy with that one statement, especially given the general acceptance that ‘the rock’ was the revelation of who Christ is/was.

There is another rabbit hole I’m choosing not to go down, and that is the Zion scriptures. The reason I am choosing not to explore them is twofold 1) because the above four scriptures are more commonly used as justification for Dominionism, and 2) because it seems quite clear from Scripture that Zion is referring to either Jerusalem, or to the City of God. Perhaps I’ll talk about that another day, but I’ll do so with a guest blog from a dear friend who is also Jewish! (Just doing my bit to avoid cultural appropriation here!)

The Ultimate Example

Now let’s look at Jesus’s MO, seen best in Philippians 2:5-11.  “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross. Therefore God also has highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

It’s clear here that Jesus brought himself low. He did not ascend to the halls of power and redeem the Jews from the seat occupied by Pontias Pilate and his homies. It was redemption via the most humiliating of deaths. In this passage of scripture we see a clear exhortation toward humility and servanthood, and a clear statement that the highest office still belongs to Jesus not man. Why claim to emulate Jesus then pursue a faith that orbits around Dominionism? It’s counter-intuitive. Jesus had a whole world of people He could have come to during the years He walked the earth. He chose not to come to the powerful Roman empire. He chose to come to a small nation, a marginalised race within a powerful Roman stranglehold. Again, He didn’t seek power.

So there are a few fundamental clashes there but the big one for me is Philippians 2:5-11. This is a picture of Christ as servant, not as Dominionist. This is a picture of going low to serve and empower, rather than going high to take what one deserves. He was perfect. He deserved/deserves everything. Instead he gave everything. If we are to emulate anything, then the servitude and compassion of Christ is surely the place we need to start and end. That compassion and servitude is shown over and over again…from Joseph, to Daniel, to Jesus himself. It is what I believe Christianity should be built around.

There is one more picture that I can never ignore, and it’s the picture of Christ the shepherd leaving the 99 sheep to find the one lost sheep. To me, it’s a picture of care, and of seeing the plight of the individual. Yet if we seek after power, then we can so easily ignore the plight of the individual while we try to chase down dominion in the domain that surrounds the 99.

I get the appeal of dominionism. It means we do not have to confront our own vulnerability, because we believe we are born to rule. We do not have to trust in God, because we believe that God has put His trust in us. It means that call of compassion is lesser than the pull of power.

So in light of all this, I have to agree with the scholars that call dominionism a heresy – that is a false doctrine, an unbiblical idea that has seeped its way into popularity in the church. It does not mean that Christians should not have positions of influence in any of the domains of society. If we are to live and work in this society, be good at what we do, or be good stewards of the teachings of Christ, then it is inevitable that some of us will have positions of influence. In fact, we should try to excel! We should try to serve and empower the very best we can!

But power in and of itself should never be the motivation. Because that is a position loaded with potential to go awry, and it is not an example Jesus ever set for us.

So that’s that! Tune in next week when I talk about Dominionism in modern politics in Australia and America.

Is Church Still Relevant?

Rounding out the relevance series (before we get stuck into some heavy topics) is the topic of Church. To me, there’s no question that Jesus and faith are still relevant. In fact, a reader remarked during the week that it is people that drive people from Jesus. Jesus himself isn’t the problem but often Christians mess it up. No arguments there!

We’ve talked about the concept of sin, and we’ve unpacked preaching. But now its time to talk format. We’ve been doing church this way (roughly) since Constantine. Meet in a building on a Sunday and hear a sermon.  Somewhere along the line, songs or hymns made their way in. Tithes have always been part of it (since Jacob promised God a tenth of everything and Malachi put pen to paper). Society has evolved over the last few centuries but Church kept the same format, albeit adding flashing lights, stage design and contemporary music stylings.

So friend, is church still relevant? Here are some thoughts on it.

To kick this one off, the obvious scripture reference has to pop up, right? Hebrews 10:25 – “Do not forsake the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhort one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.”

Some translations say “the gathering together of the saints”. Others word it differently, but the inference is clear – if you are a Christian, meet up with other Christians to keep yourself encouraged and built up. Its good logic, I believe. No man is an island. Its a cliché because its true. We need people, because life will be great but it will also be crappy. At times, our walk with God will be as easy as breathing. At other times, it will be as easy as breathing when you have end stage emphysema and a sumo sitting on your chest. It seems to me that we need the Christian community around us in both scenarios.

• Firstly, when faith is easy its easy to stop praying, searching, or checking your doctrine. Its easy to invent your own truth and ride high on the euphoria of your own ideas when things are going well. Boy, I’ve heard some strange things come out of peoples mouths during these times! Things are going well. Things feel right. So we don’t check our thoughts to see if they are wrong. Being part of a community of believers can help keep you on the straight and narrow, and keep throwing scripture at you (via sermons) even when you aren’t reading your own copy of the Good Book.

• Secondly, in the hard times, encouragement and friendship can stop you from throwing in the towel, hiding from God or yelling “As if You are even there!” at the sky. I think I’ve done all three. And I’m eternally grateful (perhaps literally) for the people who have helped me through. But in these times, church hasn’t been in the walls of the church necessarily. It’s been at kitchen tables, crying into cups of herbal tea.

• Thirdly, community is a valuable part of a healthy existence. One of the greatest plagues of the modern world  is that of loneliness. We are surrounded by people but have no one to share our lives with on a deep, personal level. We have Facebook friends lists with thousands of names, but no one to call in a crisis. Church, when done right, can be a solution to this problem. It can be a place to find a tribe and a sense of belonging. Nothing wrong with that (unless that church wields too much control over you because you need somewhere to belong. But that’s a whole other can of worms).

I am acutely aware that there are those who have a deep grapple with this question: is this “song service + pop culture sermon” format, the one that is oh-so-common across the western world, the best way to explore faith within the context of community. I can’t give you a Yes/No answer, but I’m more than happy to lay out a few thoughts.

There have  been various movements in church format over the centuries. From the church of Acts which sounds a little like the communes of the 70’s (although I’m sure without the hippy/culty stuff that popped up in a lot of those). They shared their belongings. They broke bread together. They did life together. Then over the centuries that followed, long-form sermons and hymns took precedence as communal living faded away. Today, that sermon/hymn format has survived in some denominations. But in others it has been superseded by a more seeker-friendly format seen in mega-churches: a song service, tithes, the occasional communion, and a sermon. Its just all wrapped in slick advertising, nice stage designs and shorter, less fire-and-brimstone messages that are more appealing to the masses.

Is this the only relevant format? I don’t think so but each comes with pros-and-cons. Perhaps the modern format has been created to fit in with peoples busy, complicated lives, and perhaps that comes at the expense of a deep understanding of the word of God and a too-heavy reliance upon music to create the mood and experience. But the  bottom line is this: if you are relying on church to keep your relationship with God afloat, you’re missing the point. Church doesn’t manage your relationship with God. It doesn’t save you. It doesn’t hash out your deep doubts or your misgivings. It shouldn’t dictate your every decision between Monday and Saturday. You and God have to work that out. Church is where we gather to keep encouraged, to be challenged when needed, and to find others who are walking a similar path. When we find a good church, its a thing to cherish.

Currently, a regular attender at church is someone who goes once every three weeks (or maybe four! I can’t remember!). It could be easy to think that this is the measure of a persons Christianity. I don’t think this is wise. Who has a closer walk with God? Someone who goes to church every week but never opens their Bible? Or someone who never sets foot in church but prays and reads their Bible every day? Who has a better hold on righteousness? The songleader who can create a heightened emotional atmosphere in a worship service, but chooses songs purely on how they can make people feel and lives a life that contradicts the songs? Or the person who doesn’t go to church regularly but makes a daily effort to ask “what would Jesus do?” and follow through on that.

Church attendance really isn’t a hill I’ll die on. I don’t think it determines whether or not you’ll go to Heaven. It can just make life a bit easier along the way. It can surround you with community, give you focus, and opportunities to contribute and grow your faith. That’s good. I’m in a church and I love it. But not all of my friends find it that easy. In fact, many of them serve out their faith the best way they can, but regular church attendance isn’t part of it at this point. You won’t find me passing judgement on any of them, because they share their faith and walk with God with other Christians (myself among them), and I’m absolutely sure God looks upon their reasons (and in some cases their struggles) and sees someone He loves and cares about.

Example: I’ve got a friend who left behind a city mega-church and settled down in the country. For him and his family, church is a lived experience that never has them set foot in a church (at least for this portion of their life). They have Christian friends and parents. They share their lives, frustrations, playlists, scripture readings, dreams, hopes and day-to-day stuff with them. But every day they make an effort to share the love of God with the people that are in their lives. Is it for everyone? No. But does it satisfy the Hebrews 10 clause – yeah, pretty sure it does. And they seem happy.

More than once, I’ve heard people voice their frustration at various parts of their own church experience. The worship doesn’t satisfy them (either its too pushy or its too light). The sermon isn’t quite right (its too pop culture, too light on scripture, too long, too short, too confrontational, not confrontational enough). The character of the congregation doesn’t suit. Its too cliquey, or too love-bomby and suffocating. It seems if you’ve got a church of 100 people, you’ll have 100 opinions on how it should run. You’ll have people who get along better than others. You’ll have rough diamonds. You’ll have iron sharpening iron. It will be great. It will be uncomfortable. It will be different things to different people. That’s all fine.

Church will never be perfect because its made up of humans and we aren’t perfect. I look at Hebrews 10:25, I look at people who never skip a Sunday unless they’re dead, I look at people who skip church on a sunny day and here’s what I think – Church isn’t Christianity. Church is encouragement, and community. Church is flawed, and easy, and difficult, and imperfect. It is beautiful and ugly at times, but Church is just people. It was a God-breathed concept that inevitably has good and bad aspects because it was entrusted to the hands of inherently flawed humans but church is not salvation. Jesus is.

The minute we think it is a qualifying factor in our salvation, or that it buoys our sinking devotional life, we miss the point. Over the course of the last few months, I’ve spoken with a lot of people who carry deep, deep wounds from toxic churches. Many of them can’t set foot in a church. To them I’d say – Don’t worry. No one is dooming you to Hell because you can’t do it. But find a friend who can help you satisfy the Hebrews 10:25 clause. There’s another scripture that says “where two or more are gathered, there I am in the midst.” Church doesn’t have to be in a building with a spire or a band. It can be in kitchens around tables. It can be in lounge rooms. Communion can be in tiny cups or it can be giant feasts an Italian mamma would be proud to put on. Format isn’t important. Here’s what is:

• Does it encourage you to keep on going in your faith, to keep on searching for a deeper walk with God in the mountains or in the valleys of life?

• Does it create room for the kind of friendships where someone could say “Okay mate, I think you’re going off on a weird tangent here. Why don’t we come back to what God says about it?”

• Does it motivate you to find ways to show the love of God to people who need it and thus spread the fragrance of His love in every place like the scripture says?

• Does it surround you with community so you never feel like you are doing this thing alone?

Christianity is you and God. Church is a community that surrounds you. How that works format-wise is less of an issue than some make it out to be. There are markers of a healthy church. I’ve talked about that before and I’ll probably talk about it again. But for today I’ll say this: I strongly believe Church is still relevant. It just doesn’t have to look the way it always has.

I say that as a member of a healthy church, as a member of a worship team. I love where I am at and see it as an important part of my walk with God. But that is my walk with God.

You do yours.

Is the Concept of “Sin” Still Relevant?

We can’t talk about the relevance of Christianity, faith, church, etc without talking about one of the cornerstones upon which this all sits – the idea of sin. So today I’m taking a quick look at whether or not this word still has a place in the modern world. Breathe in, breathe out, lets go. 

“For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23) Okay then, what next.

I first heard about “sin” pretty early on in life. I was raised the child of evangelicals, who began pastoring when I was 8. Thus my “sin” radar was pretty well-tuned.  In truth, it became a thing so big as to become a boogie monster of sorts – the shadow that chased me into a deep pursuit of Christianity, rather than being taken along that journey by the guiding light of who Jesus is/was. Hey look – my faith might have been a lot more fear-based back then than it is now, but I’m still grateful for it. These days I accept that every human (including me – gasp!) is flawed and that’s ok. I do my best and thank God for grace that covers the rest. I pursue a faith that is about running towards the good things, not running away from the bad things, but that doesn’t mean I have erased the concept of sin from my brain.

In the modern day, we might ask ourselves whether the word ‘sin’ is even necessary. Its very presence in the modern lexicon is something some may find offensive. We have ethics. We have crime and punishment. Atheists, agnostics, humanists and Christians (and all the other belief systems too innumerable to list) alike can all pursue a high standard of ethical, altruistic living with or without the word ‘sin’. Is it therefore still relevant? I’m going to say that yes, it is. But it is our attitude to it that needs attention.

I guess we need to start with what “Sin” is. When you trace it back to the Hebrew and Greek origins of the word, there are two big concepts: one is that of a transgression (stepping across a boundary or limit), the other is that of missing the mark (so perhaps think of an athlete shooting for a goal but missing it.) “This view of sin includes the concept of our going in one direction but straying off course to the side and not continuing in the direction we intended to go, with the result that we don’t reach the goal we intended. We miss [Scott Ashley – on how the Bible defines sin].”

There are two types of sins: sins of commission and sins of omission. The first is pretty well spelled out in Scripture. Take the 10 Commandments for instance –  idol worship, adultery, theft, murder, covetousness, dishonouring your parents, blasphemy, not remembering the Sabbath (incidentally, almost the whole gentile population is guilty of this one! Ooops). Galatians 5:19-21 (in some weird translation!) goes on to list a few others: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery (interpret those the way you will), idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkness and orgies. These appeared in a letter penned by the apostle Paul, who was raised a pharisee and spent his pre-conversion life as a dedicated anti-Christian pharisee. His was a theology informed by the religious system of the day before being interrupted by a revelation of Jesus. So who knows how much this influenced his look at sin.

We know that Jesus came to transcend the law of Moses, and that He called us to a higher law of love. But that doesn’t mean that debauchery and orgies aren’t sin. *shrugs* Who knew?

Then there are sins of omission: the sins you commit when you see something that requires action, but you do not act (James 4:17.) I’m absolutely sure that this is something nearly everyone is guilty of. I don’t think sin is something we can avoid. The big things we can avoid. Its pretty easy to not murder. Just, you know, don’t murder. Its pretty easy to not rape. Just, you know, don’t rape. But envy? Fits of rage? Not speaking up when you should? That’s where it gets hard. Factions? Ask anyone involved in politics – they’re hard to avoid. (Hmmm, is politics sin then? *strokes chin thoughtfully. I jest. Of course. Mostly.)

John Calvin was one of the theologians whose ideas have survived into modern Christianity. One of his big ideas was that of Total Depravity. Sounds bad! Right! Here’s the sum of up that doctrine: there is no part of us which hasn’t been affected by the “taint” of sin. Its in our mind, will, emotions and physical body and has been ever since Eve ate the fruit of the forbidden tree. (I’m not going to go into every aspect of Calvinism and the doctrine of Total Depravity. If you want that, go here). What I will say on the matter is that it underpins the idea that man is lost without God, and the only way to please God is through Jesus. Both things are found through-out scripture. It also inspired a common persuasive evangelistic approach – to lay out the power and pervasiveness of sin before they bring in the saving power of Jesus.

It has certainly had its place in the past. Perhaps it still does. In years gone by, the church has acted as a moral guidepost of society. In a post-modern world, and what some would call a post-Christian world, this is not a place we occupy anymore. Does it mean that preachers should no longer use sin as a means of converting people to the gospel? Certainly not.

Does it mean the word ‘sin’ no longer belongs in the modern vernacular? Also, I’d say, certainly not. I have three reasons for this:

1. The word ‘sin’ is related to ‘wrongdoing’, ‘crime’, ‘evil’ and ‘unethical.’ These words cover, in part, what sin is. They are very present in the modern world, as is a (largely) shared concept of what is just and unjust. For the life of me, I can’t find the most perfect CS Lewis quote that summed up how this, rather than a look at nature or the stars, was a better proof of the existence of God – that this idea of right and wrong is engraved deep within all of us. But it was a beautiful and poignant quote that showed just how the knowledge of good and evil, fruit of the first sin, is still with us and thus the latter is still pervasive – even when one does not believe in God. You don’t need to believe in God to know when something is wrong. You don’t need to believe in Him to feel guilty over not standing up for a bullying victim, or for cheating or stealing. Its there in all of us.

2. The other part of sin’s definition is simply not measuring up to the standard of a holy, perfect God. By virtue of this, by virtue of our very humanity, we are sinful. I don’t believe we should feel shame over this. We should just accept it, that there’s no way to be superhuman, and to thank God for the grace that covers our sin and allows us eternity with God anyway. So we need to stop thinking of sin as pure evil. We need to start thinking of it more as a fact of life, a part of humanity – one remedied by Jesus and only Jesus. So sin doesn’t just mean the heavy things (like evil). It also means imperfect. It also just means human. We aren’t God. Who knew?

3. The presence of sin (the second part of the definition provided in the first paragraph – that of not measuring up or of missing the mark) does not exempt us from doing our best, even though it will never be as perfect and superhuman as God. It simply means we do what we can, knowing Jesus is the One who covers the shortfall.

I don’t think we should be offended when others take issue with the presence of the word ‘sin’ in the Christian vocabulary. Ask them for their definition of right, wrong, good, evil, success, failure, ethics – you’ll see that sin consciousness is there. The rest, I believe, is just semantics.

The preachers of old used to use ‘sin’ as the thing to illustrate our need for God. For me, there is a fine line between illustrating how Jesus is the only one who bridges the void and scaring people into a fear-based Christianity. When I look around me these days, I see enough fear. I don’t think we need that. But if some people feel lead to preach fire and brimstone, good for them. There’s a time, a place and a scenario which calls for that (I’m sure!)

It’s not my call. You won’t find me on a street corner reminding the world, yet again, what my read of the Bible condemns. You’ll find me loving people and doing the best I can when it comes to showing the love of Christ while examining my own faith and making sure I do the best I can when it comes to emulating the red letters.

The last thing I’ll say is this: “For we know that our old self was crucified with Christ, so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin because anyone who has died has been freed from sin.” Romans 6:6-7

If you are a Christian who, like me, found yourself fumbling through a fear-based faith – breathe easy. According to Romans 6:6-7, you’re exempt. You aren’t exempt from doing your best to ‘bear fruit worthy of salvation,’ but you are exempt from the penalty of sin. Do your best. Live a good life, knowing Jesus sacrifice both covers you and empowers you (Matthew 3:8, Philippians 4:13) But don’t stress out if you fumble. You are free.

But still. No orgies, okay. Unless, you know what…I’m not even going to go there. You do you.

Open Theism - What is it Anyway?

I read a term today I'd never heard of before - upon reading its definition, I should have heard of it. Why? Because as a millennial Christian, its the form of faith presented most often to me. It is Open Theism. Although its a newbie to me, I thought I'd flag it here for a couple of reasons: 1) I believe we ought to know what we believe and 2) we ought to think about the contradictions it presents us with.

By means of a super-short introduction to the term, I once again turn to the font of all well-referenced and researched wisdom - Wikipedia.

"Open theism says that since God and humans are free, God's knowledge is dynamic and God's providence flexible. While several versions of traditional theism picture God's knowledge of the future as a singular, fixed trajectory, open theism sees it as a plurality of branching possibilities, with some possibilities becoming settled as time moves forward.Thus, the future as well as God's knowledge of it is open (hence "open" theism)." Read more about it here.

Theologians have flagged a few problems with this. One is that classical theism paints us a picture of God fully determining the future. This is the predestination doctrine, if you like.

Other theologians believe that God gives us free choice, but His omniscience means that He already knows the future and what choices we make.

Enter Open Theism. Open theists hold that: "These versions of classical theism are out of sync with: 1. the biblical concept of God and 2. the biblical understanding of divine and creaturely freedom and/or result in incoherence. Open Theists tend to emphasize that God's most fundamental character trait is love, and that this trait is unchangeable. They also (in contrast to traditional theism) tend to hold that the biblical portrait is of a God deeply moved by creation, experiencing a variety of feelings in response to it." (Once again. Thanks Wikipedia.)

It seems to be a doctrine I was raised with, which is funny given its relative newness to the theological world. Apparently it was Richard Rice who pioneered the Open Theism train of thought in 1980 with his book "The Openness of God." Since then,  many a modern theologian has published on the matter.

It raises a question or two, and its conclusion seems to be one that both atheists and open theists agree on. That is the traditional characteristics of God don't make sense. If He is omniscient, seeing all whether past present or future, He can't be omnipotent and all-good. If so, He couldn't see evil and still let it happen.

So that's one big ouch for the doctrine, and I have to say its an uncomfortable moment when you read an atheist argument and go "Hmmm. Fair point."

There are three other problems I see with Open Theism. They are the issues of predestination, prayer and what we do with free will if God can just re-write the future.

Super quickly, because this so wasn't going to be a full expose, just a quick post:

1. To decide whether or not Open Theism is a doctrine you subscribe to, you need to decide whether or not you believe in predestination. Now, this isn't a cornerstone doctrine to me, so I've never really examined it. If we believe in predestination, then there is no true free choice. What were the two trees in the garden? Why would God put them there if He already knew the outcome? Now the issue of predestination is one that could easily be argued from both sides. I always thought I agreed with it, but that was until I realised the following.

2. If we believe in predestination, then what is the role of prayer? I *think* it was CS Lewis who said "Prayer doesn't change God. It changes me." So perhaps he was a predestinationalist. I read that quote and I sort of agree with him. But then what of the whole, NAR (New Apostolic Reformation) and Faith Movement's emphasis on spiritual warfare? If we believe that prayer changes things, then we mustn't truly believe in predestination. One has us thinking that the role of prayer is to change us. The other has us thinking that the role of prayer is to change God. If the latter, then what of the immutability of God (that is that He cannot change?)

3. If God can re-write the future, what are the consequences of free will? Open Theism emphasises the love of God above all. It holds that He is very moved by creation and is moved in various ways. Then couldn't we do anything with our free will and then simply turn around and say "Yep. Sorry. Good to go with your best plan now." The modern church, or at least the branch of it that I've been exposed to the most, talks a lot about destiny. "Destiny" seems to imply predestination. Predestination clashes with Open Theism in that Open Theism offers up multiple possible trajectories that ones life can take, thus burning the predestination theme to the ground.

This is one of those rare posts where I'm putting out more questions than answers. I'm not sure where I come down on this whole Open Theism thing. I posted it because, well, I haven't posted for a while and its what I'm thinking about today. Those three points at the end will be things I'm thinking on.

If we put every doctrine that sounds appealing into our proverbial back-pack of beliefs, then we can end up with an inconsistent faith. Perhaps it takes a lifetime and beyond to fully understand God, and perhaps there are no right answers to these things. But perhaps its a good thing to think about. If we are about predestination, then we need to surrender to the will of God and just coast through life taking it all as it comes. I guess there's a peace in that. If we aren't, then we need to delve further into the why and how of prayer, and understand there's a certain responsibility in how we pray.

Anyway! Thats my brain dump for today. Hope ya'll have a fabulous weekend.
Cheers
Kit K.

The De-Calvinisation of Kit Kennedy

There we were, my ex-husband and I, walking our two babies along a boardwalk during Covid19 lockdown. The dew was still fresh on the plants that carpeted the wetland floor. Our two-year-old was busy conquering her fear of bridges (because look, a boardwalk is one long bridge, isn't it). I watched her a bit proudly and reflected on my unfaced fears, and whether I had any. (Spoiler: We all do.) Then I said the thing that had been bothering me for a long time, but that I hadn't given voice to yet: "Bae, I just don't think I subscribe to the Evangelical trope of Jesus as my bestie anymore. And I can't think of God as an old white man in the sky who is morbidly curious about my every action, reaction and inaction, and who has a huge "choose your own adventure" style book of punishments and prizes depending on what I do or don't do in any given moment." 

Patrick responded with a sentence almost as wordy as the two I'd just thrown him. And that is perhaps one reason we work so well as friends even after splitting.

But that wasn't the moment I was observing. I was observing another one, a big one where I recognized the seismic shift in my faith. There was no one around. It's not like anyone could hear, and if my theory was correct (which I won't know until eternity), then the only person who would hear was Patrick. After a lifetime of believing that God watched and judged and reacted to every single thing I did or thought, and even wondering whether the "cloud of witnesses" were still creepin' when you were shaving your legs or whatever in the shower, it was almost a relief to get that thought out of my head.

Superstitiously, I've waited for the other shoe to drop and for cosmic judgment to fall upon me because I don't look at Jesus as if He is my best friend.

It hasn't. And that is perhaps the most telling thing of all.

Let's step back a bit: what is this Evangelical Trope of which I speak?

It has long been a trend in Christian worship music for songs to kinda swing in a direction where the word "Jesus" could be subbed out for the word "Baby," a slick beat dropped behind the catchy riff and BOOM: club-worthy song. There was a meme that made its way around the internet not too long ago in which the dorkiest band you've ever seen sang "Jesus is my friend. I have my friend in Jesus. He taught me how to sing, and how to save my soul, He taught me how to love my God and still play rock and roll" blah blah blah. In fact, I have instant regret over typing those lyrics because the song is that catchy. There goes a perfectly good night's sleep.

That song, released soon after the advent of color television, was a very early iteration of the "Jesus is my best friend/lover/brother/" genre. It might have worked for me as a teenager when I needed to feel a sense of connectedness, lofty destiny, and the illusion of a guaranteed rosy life, but it certainly sat a little wonky in later years when I started to wonder whether this was true worship. I'd started to wonder whether worship should instead carry an attitude of reverence and awe, rather than the sort of poetry cooked up by hipsters to make their target market feel good.

Harsh. I know. Heck, I've written some of this stuff so I've certainly been part of the machine. Admittedly nothing as cool as the pop-star worship-leaders of today.

But can I say it out loud? Can I acknowledge it for what it is? I don't think many of us see Jesus as a literal best friend. And that's okay. Perhaps to call Him that is to bring the divine down to a human plain, or worse still, to raise ourselves to god-status by calling ourselves equal to the third part of the trinity.

Jesus is, in my mind, the divine incarnate. To others, He is a prophet or a philosopher. To others, maybe just an invisible buddy they like to chat to. I don't believe its bad to see Him as any of these things. But I certainly don't believe it is bad to admit that we don't see Him as the latter.

But where did this "Jesus is my friend", buddy-buddy attitude come from? 

I'm sure there are better scholars out there, a fact I recount often. But there seem to be only a few instances in scripture and none of them seem to line up with "Jesus is my best buddy."

• John 15:14 - 15 "You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you."

• James 2:23 "Abraham believed in God, and it was accounted to him as righteousness, and he was called a friend of God."

Jesus was certainly called a friend of sinners, the first-born of many brethren, and he was certainly a friend of the disciples. But none of these instances put him on the same human level as the recipient of his friendship. It's more like having a name in your phone book of someone powerful who you could call on if you needed them. I have a number of MP's on my Facebook friends list. But I don't play pool with them or muse to them about my thoughts on dating post-separation. Having an influential friend is different to having a buddy.

Yes, Peter James and John had a closer relationship with Jesus than anyone else. I'm not denying that. But am I as close as they were? Could I ever be?

If I was ever in a position where I thought I could clearly, accurately, faultlessly and tangibly hear Jesus' voice and "rest my head on Him" as these disciples did, I truly hope one of you would drag me to a psychologist office - stat.

Now, look: the point of this post isn't to change your mind on anything. If you look at Jesus as if He is your best friend - good for you. I guess what I'm writing about here is an honest look at the state of my deconstruction. I'm not scared to call my approach to faith what it is anymore. I've got the podcast which creates a beautiful opportunity for me to explore the more intellectual avenues of deconstruction, theology, faith, and social justice. But who would I be if I didn't say exactly what's on my mind in terms of my own deeply held thoughts?

The truth is, I don't view Jesus as my best friend. Perhaps I never have. Perhaps I did but I'm glossing over history with the kind of paintbrush that makes things all look tidy and consistent in the present. I don't know. But either way, it's okay. I think I've mentioned before that I watched a beautiful series on Netflix called "The Story of God." It was narrated by Morgan Freeman (which was sort of meta, as it sounded like God was narrating his own story. Bravo Netflix). But what I noticed was a rich reverence woven through the exploration of each religion's origins and traditions. The gorgeous sound of the Islamic call to prayer, the deep respect that Native Americans and Indigenous people of other countries had for their spoken traditions, the incredible respect held by the researchers looking into the origins of the Abrahamic religions. The thread woven through was one of reverence, respect, awe, and somehow despite the diversity and difference presented in each faith or tradition, there was a thread of something familiar. It was a story of origin, of connection, of searching for a way of being in the world that was good. 

Then Joel Osteen stepped on screen for the first time. He was there as the standard-bearer for American Evangelicalism - a faith that should be the closest relative to mine. His teeth, impeccably capped and whitened, made me grimace, but none so much as the words that came out of his mouth. I felt like I'd just switched channels to a Tony Robbins thing. I hated it. Where were the reverence and awe? It felt cheap and tacky but dressed up in a suit that undoubtedly cost thousands.

Today, in the height of the Black Lives Matter protests, I saw another cringe-worthy moment. Mega-church pastor Louis Giglio sitting with rapper LeCrae of all people, explaining the "Blessing" of slavery and reframing "white privilege" to "white blessing". My stomach sunk. It is a statement Giglio has since offered up a sincere apology and said he sees no blessing in slavery. Thank God. But still, I see something in the institutions of Evangelicalism as something deeply problematic: something more like Tony Robbins than Jesus. Something more like a fast-food franchise than a slowly-grown, deeply held, intentionally-built ethos that asks "how might I model myself off the life of Jesus? How can I make this world better?"

Jesus isn't my best friend. He is the highest-held model and ethical ideal in my mind. He is my God. Yes. But I won't bring Him down to sibling or bestie level.

My best friend and I (or ex-husband, however you want to phrase it), we sit and binge Netflix shows. We talk trash. I run things by him when I want a second opinion, but I know I can ignore his advice if I want. I don't base my ethical and moral decisions on what he would want me to do. My other best-friends - well at this point in Covid lockdown, we drink a fair bit of prosecco or gin and talk about our love lives a lot.

Again. Not doing that with Jesus. Although praying about what decision is right - that I do.

The Bible calls Jesus the firstborn of many brethren. But let's look at sibling relationships: I'm the eldest in my family. Of the five of us, I really only have semi-regular contact with one (if you don't count the odd snapchat or text). She is a free-spirit and a gifted public speaker. She is generous and a hard-worker. She is fabulous with kids and her wardrobe is phenomenal. There are things I admire about her.  But I don't build my life around her and she certainly doesn't build hers around me.

What am I saying? Jesus isn't my sibling. He isn't my bestie. That's not a role I would ever reduce him to.

This realization has made me understand, for the first time in my life, that there is a jarring misfit between me and the contemporary church.

But why use "de-Calvinisation" in the title of this blog when you weren't even raised Calvinist, Kit?

A few weeks back I blogged on the five pillars of Calvinism. There at the top of the list is the doctrine of "Total Depravity." It's one that Evangelicalism is still very much steeped in; that since the fall of mankind in Eden, we are all born with a sin nature; totally depraved, enslaved to sin, selfish and self-serving, determined to act against God.

We hear it in altar calls. We hear it in the speeches of Billy Graham, who has been held up as the greatest evangelist of the modern era. Over the last few years I've been sitting with this uncomfortable question though: is it possible to follow Jesus without subscribing to a deep and wounding sense of self-loathing. Of inadequacy. Of "I can do nothing without God." I first started to wrestle with this when I was reading my ex-husbands Gay Conversion Therapy manual. I realized my own sense of inadequacy, fear of doing the wrong thing, feeling of being the wrong thing without the approval of the church - it was all internalized shame gifted to me from that Calvinist belief I had marinated in since childhood. It paled in comparison to the internalized sense of homophobia he carried. But that's another story, and another blog post (How I survived gay conversion therapy).

Side note: I wasn't raised Calvinist. It's just a belief that I see deeply steeped in the "Come to Jesus, all ye sinners" narrative."

Then I heard a podcast. The guest was Richard Rohr, and I can't even remember what else he said apart from this sentiment: why do we start our faith in Genesis 3 with the fall of mankind, when we could start it in Genesis 1 where God repeatedly looked at creation and said "It is good. It is good. It is good."?

So perhaps I'm a Franciscan now? Maybe? I don't know. All I know is reading Genesis one and letting those words wash over me felt healing. Because here is what I know about humanity:

1. No loving parent looks at their newborn and sees sin and depravity. They see beauty, even in those first weeks when their kid is funny looking - Let's be honest. We are told God is love, but then told that we are depraved and He hates sin (thus he can't stand us). Furthermore, we are told the Bible never contradicts itself. Well, it just did. If God, whom we are supposed to call Abba Father, is love, then he loves us. Or He is a hateful parent who alienates and estranges his children from the get-go until they can earn their way back. I'm a mother of two children. I know which parent I am. And I am infinitely less good than the divine good.

2. All of us are doing our best. I loved watching Game of Thrones. Because every character had redeeming qualities and also the ability to do awful things. Yet we wouldn't call them awful. (Okay, Joffrey doesn't count. Straight up jerk, that one!). I believe all of us are doing the best we can with what we are given. Can we all do better if given the right resources? Yes. In "Little Fires Everywhere" featuring Reese Witherspoon and Kerry Washington, the latter yelled, "You didn't 'make good choices, you had good choices." And wow, it's true. That's privilege in one sentence.

3. Not many of us believe we are inherently bad people. Why is it that religion steps in, and before accepting us into its exclusive club, makes us admit that we are terrible and hopeless, and sinful without God? Surely, if God is God, and if Jesus is the human incarnation of the divine, then there should be good enough reason to follow him without self-hatred and shame. I believe there is. I don't believe we need to think of ourselves as the scum of the earth before we reach for a more merciful, honest, compassionate, anti-corruption, anti-exclusion, self-sacrificially loving existence. Do you?

So look. This is an intensely personal post I'm just putting out there because I need to get what's on my mind off my mind before I finish crafting a ghostwritten book on infant and pediatric craniopathies!

Here's what I believe about myself now.

I start my faith in Genesis 1. I am good. I am not perfect, but I do not hate myself for that. Jesus is a divine being I approach with reverence, not familiarity. I do not follow Him because I hate myself. I follow Him because I love humanity. I believe that Christianity that builds itself on instilling a sense of self-loathing or shame in its adherents is inferior because it is not built on the immensity, infinitely expansive, compassionate, merciful, intentionally diverse nature of God and the world He/They created.

So yeah. That's me right now. This is the state of the de-calvinisation of Kit Kennedy as at June 17, 2020. Let's see where we are next year!

Peace

Kit K

P.S. Here is the song I referred to. You're welcome.

[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-NOZU2iPA8[/embed]