Why Be Christian? An Introduction

This reflection is an introduction to a series of reflections that will explore non-violent and non-dominion reasons for being deeply, yet humbly christian, in 2023. I believe that this exploration is both relevant and important. Many christians today are necessarily deconstructing ideologies central to christian life. In times of old, it was these very ideologies that explained why christian life mattered. However, as these ideologies crack and crumble, the old reasons for christian life no longer work. Let me explain…

Bibliology
If the bible—albeit sacred and inspired—is not written by the very hand of God thereby resulting in a perfect text, then the bible is in need of a reconstructed authority because most of us were taught to submit to the bible as the infallible and inerrant word of God.

Theology Proper
If God is Infinite Love holding everything together and moving everything forward, then theology proper—systematic thought on God—is in need of a reconstructed system because most of us were taught to submit to a God who is somehow everlasting kindness toward some and violently wrathful toward most.

Ecclesiology
If Jesus’ table is truly common and open to all, then life together—ecclesiology—is in need of a reconstructed table because most of us were taught to submit to an ideology in which a person must believe just the right things to belong or else suffer eternal and physical torment in a place called “hell.”

Why Be Religious?
If the bible isn’t inerrant, God is love, and Jesus’ table is open to every person, why should anyone identify as a Christian today, in 2023? That’s exactly what this series of reflections intend to explore. But before tackling that question in forthcoming reflections, I’d like to transcend the particularity of christianity to share about why I think religion itself is important.

Ligaments
The word “religion” is derived from the Latin, religio, which is derived from the Latin, religare. Religare is comprised of two words, re, meaning “back” and ligare, meaning “to bind.” Religare—to bind back together. We humans could use some of that, couldn’t we?

It’s interesting to note that the English word “ligament” derives from the Latin word religare. I love that. Religion as ligaments. In other words, religion as a way of being held—individually and corporately—together.

Awhile ago I was talking to my neighbor and we were bemoaning the state of our world and I asked her what she thought the solution was and she said to me with absolute conviction, “The end of religion!” I asked some questions and came to better understand. She was trying to communicate that we need less religious ideology that fosters difference and nurtures violence in the world. And to that I say, “Amen!” We need an end to religious violence and dominion, for certainly, that does not rouse human flourishing. In place of religious violence and dominion, I’d like to suggest that many—not all, but many—can benefit from healthy ligaments—good religion—that’s uniquely capable of holding our lives and world together, in love.

Religious Good
In 1984, Father Thomas Keating invited a broad range of spiritual teachers from virtually all of the world’s great wisdom traditions—christian, jewish, buddhist, hindu, indigenous, islamic—to gather at St. Benedict’s Monastery in Snowmass, Colorado. This came to be called, “The Snowmass Conference.”

The words used by those who gathered to explain their time together were:
Intimate,
Trusting,
Transformative,
Inspirational.

Isn’t that beautiful? If only diverse religious people could meet together with openness and honesty to experience intimate, trusting, transformative, and inspirational conversations—as opposed to tribal violence—we could all be so much further into the land of goodness and love, the city of God.

One key goal for the leaders’ time at the Snowmass Conference was—rather than argue about how they’re different—to investigate various points of agreement, for which they found eight:

1. The world religions bear witness to the experience of Ultimate Reality, to which they give various names.

2. Ultimate Reality cannot be limited by any name or concept.

3. Ultimate Reality is the ground of infinite potentiality and actualization.

4. Faith is opening, accepting, and responding to Ultimate Reality. Faith in this sense precedes every belief system.

5. The potential for human wholeness—or in other frames of reference, enlightenment, salvation, transcendence, transformation, blessedness—is present in every human being.

6. Ultimate Reality may be experienced not only through religious practices, but also through nature, art, human relationship, and service to others.

7. As long as the human condition is experienced as separate from Ultimate Reality, it is subject to ignorance and illusion, weakness and suffering.

8. Disciplined practice is essential to the spiritual life; yet spiritual attainment is not the result of one’s own efforts but the result of the experience of oneness with Ultimate Reality.

Aren’t these points of agreement incredible? As vastly different as each religious system is, a fundamental similarity and deep goodness exists at the soul-level of these religious perspectives. Perhaps that's why NPR recently highlighted a professor in Clinical Psychology from Columbia University named Lisa Miller who—through clinical studies—found that spirituality is good for our mental health.

Being
In this day and age it is altogether easy to deconstruct everything, to mock everything, and to live a life of intense skepticism. For many, it has become vogue to exist within a perspective of anti-being. But I don’t think that anti-being—deconstruction, mockery, and skepticism—leads to human flourishing. With this in mind, it’s my sincere hope that this series of reflections encourages an intentional movement toward being:

• Being, engaged in the wisdom of a sacred text using reason and dialogue.

• Being, aware of our connection to the Infinite in whom we move and breathe.

• Being, shaped by Jesus’ common table, around which we are invited to belong and grow.

• Being, held together—like ligaments—by deep, yet humble, christian life.

Christian Captivity in Paul's Atonement

This reflection expounds on a primary focus within black theology—liberation—and it urges western christians to make an exodus out of their captivity in Paul’s atonement in order to participate in an atonement that flows with milk and honey.

To begin, a primary focus within black theology is liberation.

Liberation by a God,
who reveals solidarity with the oppressed,
in Jesus.

This definition is central to black theology’s understanding of atonement. Now, atonement—put simply—refers to a reconciled state between two parties that were formally alienated. And within christian perspective, atonement is accomplished through the death and resurrection of Jesus.

I realize that this language is heavily theological but please stick with me because it’s really important, especially for western christians held captive by Paul’s primary focus on atonement.

A White Gospel, Suspicious of Liberation
I attended a conservative, primarily white, evangelical seminary in the late 90s and early 2000s. While at seminary, I was repeatedly warned about the grave danger of black theology. To be clear, nobody said, “Be warned about black theology.” It was much more subtle than that. Instead, I was exhorted, “Be very cautious about ‘liberation theology.’” The reasoning was, “biblical.”

The expanded version went something like this: Be very cautious about liberation theology because its focus on liberation and hope in the midst of suffering—although important and necessary—aren’t central to the gospel.

According to my seminary training and white, conservative theology, “Central to the gospel” is the shedding of Jesus’ blood on a cross, which is necessary for God to forgive humans of their sins.

Believe this gospel and go to heaven.
Fail to believe this gospel and go to hell.

Now, I’m going to split a theological hair here and you may want to roll your eyes at its seeming meaninglessness. But if you stick with me, I believe this will begin to make important sense and have deep relevance for life, today.

Believing in the the shedding of Jesus’ blood on a cross as necessary for God’s forgiveness can be gospel. But technically speaking, this is a theological statement about atonement.

A Brief Explanation on Gospel as Good News
Gospel, put simply, is the declaration of good news. That’s why Jesus walks into the synagogue in Luke chapter 4 and reads, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news”—from the Greek, euagellion, literally, gospel.

And what is the good news; what is the gospel, according to Jesus? Well, Jesus is very clear. It’s:

• Freedom from bondage,

• healing for the sick,

• release for the oppressed,

• and the proclamation of God’s favor on everyone.

According to Jesus, that’s gospel. It’s gospel, you see, because it’s truly good news. Think about it. If you’re in bondage and suddenly freed. Or if you’re sick and suddenly healed. Or if you’re oppressed and suddenly released. Or if you’re unfavored and suddenly favored. That is always—in every circumstance and generation—good news.

Over the years I’ve come to find this to be a very helpful way to think about the gospel of Jesus: The gospel of Jesus is actually, honestly, reasonably, and truly, good news.

A Brief Explanation on Atonement
“Well that sounds real nice Mike, but what about Jesus, the cross, and the shedding of blood?” Excellent question. When we ask that question, we’re deep in the theological world of atonement. As previously mentioned, christian atonement is the meaning-making of Jesus’ death and resurrection in order to reconcile estranged parties.

A Brief Explanation on Paul’s Atonement as Good News
Now, here’s where things begin to get real interesting. Which New Testament author wrote the most about the meaning of Jesus’ shed blood on the cross, which brings about the forgiveness for sins? Answer: Paul.

Paul’s primary understanding of atonement is that Jesus’ shed blood and death on the cross fulfilled the requirements of Israel’s sacrificial system, thereby pleasing God. And ultimately—according to Paul—those who believe in Jesus’ shed blood on the cross receive forgiveness, thereby entering into relationship with God. For Paul, this particular aspect of atonement is good news—that is to say, gospel.

Accommodating for Paul’s Atonement
About this, I’d like us to consider the question, “Why?” Why is an atonement in which those who believe in Jesus’ shed blood on the cross to receive forgiveness, thereby entering into relationship with God, good news for Paul?

Now, depending on your background, you may answer, “Because that’s what God told Paul to write.” Or, you may answer, “Because that’s what the Bible says.” But to be clear, those answers rise from a framework in which the Bible is infallible and inerrent, which is a modern construct for the Bible that is unreasonable and creates a whole bunch of difficulties for christianity today.

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To learn more about the problems of infallibility and inerrancy, and to learn more about a wonderfully ancient and historical way of thinking about the Bible, pause from reading this reflection, read a reflection that I wrote titled, Harmonization and Accommodation, and then come back.

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Prior to the enlightenment and later generations, words like “infallible” and “inerrent” weren’t really used to describe the Bible. It’s important to remember that the Bible was written by humans who were inspired, but even inspiration could not overcome the biblical author’s own cultures and contexts. For example, the biblical authors could not conceive of a world in which slavery didn’t exist. Therefore, even though the abolition of slavery is good, just, and accords with the heart of God in whom we all move, breathe, and have our being, the biblical authors never appeal for emancipation. Similarly, the biblical authors could not conceive of a world in which women were equal with men. Therefore, even though gender equality is good, just, and accords with the heart of God in whom we all move, breathe, and have our being, the biblical authors never advocate for it. The list of examples that demonstrate the biblical authors’ cultural and societal limitations goes on and on.

With this in mind, I’d like to ask the same question, again: Why is an atonement in which those who believe in Jesus’ shed blood on the cross to receive forgiveness, thereby entering into relationship with God, good news for Paul?

Answer: Because, before encountering Jesus, Paul was a Pharisee. That is to say, before encountering Jesus, Paul was an expert in the Law. Paul was an expert in the law, with all of its regulations and sacrifices. And so, think with me here. Paul has his vision in which Jesus asks him, “Why are you persecuting me?” Paul then decides to follow after Jesus. But as a good Pharisee—in order to follow after Jesus—Paul has to do some work. Paul has to figure out how Jesus fulfills the regulations and sacrifices that gave shape to how Paul understood the world as a Pharisee. And the end result is Paul’s primary perspective on atonement, which is: Jesus’ shed blood on a cross fulfills the Law; Jesus’ shed blood on a cross is the perfect sacrifice. And this is—for Paul—deeply and pervasively, good news. That is to say, it’s gospel, because it sets Paul free.

Who is Paul’s Focus on Atonement Good for, Today?
With this context in mind there are two types of people today, for whom Paul’s primary expression of atonement is good-news-gospel.

First, Paul’s primary expression of atonement is good-news-gospel for people today who read the Bible and say, “God said it, I believe it.” Even if it means that they have to believe in a God who requires blood—the blood of his own son, in particular—to forgive sins.

These people—because of their post-enlightenment perspective and evangelical view on the Bible—must respond to Paul’s atonement with something like, “I don’t care, sure, maybe it’s weird or seemingly unnecessary or even violent, but God said it and so I believe it.”

A second type of person for whom Paul’s primary expression of atonement is good-news-gospel today is for people who do not need physical freedom, physical healing, physical release, or the experience of societal favor—the gospel according to Jesus in Luke 4.

Thinking in terms of who that person is today, in the United States? It is middle-upper class, straight, white citizens. This is a salient critique by black theology. You see, a theology that’s articulated by people of privilege tends to turn core biblical stories—stories about freedom from bondage, healing the sick, releasing the oppressed, and challenging violent systems of power—into metaphor.

Now, having shifted the focus from liberation here and now to forgiveness and eternal life, privileged theology is able to use biblical language about liberation without lifting a finger to liberate. And of course liberation from oppression is good—but because it’s not central to a privileged gospel, it isn’t central to christian life.

Are you beginning to see some of the connections? Baked into a privileged people reading Paul’s atonement in which belief in Jesus’ shed blood saves sinners:

People of privilege—middle-upper class, straight, white citizens of the United States—only need a spiritual salvation because their lives are already good.

Baked into a privileged people reading Paul’s atonement in which belief in Jesus’ shed blood saves sinners:

People of privilege—middle-upper class, straight, white citizens of the United States—don’t have to help liberate those who are oppressed, because—as they see it—that’s not truly gospel.

And baked into a privileged people reading Paul’s atonement in which belief in Jesus’ shed blood saves sinners:

People of privilege—middle-upper class, straight, white citizens of the United States—are able to maintain center stage, telling everyone around them what they must think and do in order to belong to be saved.

A Privileged Gospel is a Racist Gospel
And this? Well this—among other things—foments a racist gospel.

Remember, “gospel” literally means “good news.” And this particular news that we’ve been discussing is only good for those who see the Bible a certain way or for those who have no physical need for help or liberation. And so, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. wrote in his Letter from Birmingham Jail:

I have heard many ministers say: "Those are social issues, with which the gospel has no real concern." And I have watched many churches commit themselves to a completely other worldly religion which makes a strange, un-Biblical distinction between body and soul, between the sacred and the secular.”

In response to black suffering, white theology has offered forgiveness from sins and relief in heaven; in response to calls for black equality, white church structures have offered integration: you can come where we are, so long as it does not change who we are and how we do things, so long as our values, our language, our culture, our voices are still in control.

And speaking directly to white American theology on atonement and—interestingly enough—to Black churches caught up in white theology, the great black theologian James Cone wrote in his book, The Cross and the Lynching Tree:

I accept Delores William’s rejection of theories of atonement as found in the Western theological tradition and in the uncritical proclamation of the cross in many black churches.

I find nothing redemptive about suffering in itself. The gospel of Jesus is not a rational concept to be explained in a theory of salvation, but a story of God’s presence in Jesus’ solidarity with the oppressed, which led to his death on the cross.

What is redemptive is the faith that God snatches victory out of defeat, life out of death, and hope out of despair, as revealed in the biblical and black proclamation of Jesus’ resurrection.

Perhaps this is a helpful way to think about it. If you were a black child, woman, or man in 19th century United States and you witnessed the lynchings of family or friends or neighbors by white christians who lynched in the name of God and justice, is an atonement explaining that God killed Jesus on a tree in order to forgive sins, good news? Is that a good gospel?

No. It is in fact, horrifying news.

“But Mike, it’s in the Bible!” Yes, and fortunately for we white people it’s good news because our privilege only requires a spiritual salvation. It’s good news for we white people because we don’t live in a country in which our forbearers were captured, chained, shipped, raped, enslaved, and hung on trees.

Not only is it unequivocally violent to demand that a person believe in the goodness of a Divine death penalty in order to be saved, but in light of black lives crying out for the good news of liberation, it is wrong—horrifically wrong—for white people to demand that any marginalized person believe in a gospel that isn’t truly good for their lives or situations.

What about Forgiveness?
To be clear, I’m not intending to say that forgiveness isn’t important. Every person feels bad about their mistakes and sins. Every person holds the weight of burden and regret. And stories and tables that praise, sing, and evoke the reality of Divine forgiveness are deeply necessary and christian. But again, to continue trying to be clear, God was in the business of forgiveness long before Jesus died on a cross. Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures God was forgiving sins. And moving into the New Testament, Jesus himself was forgiving sins long before he was hung on a tree.

And so, here’s the thing: If Paul’s primary aspect on atonement helps you to know and to receive forgiveness and to belong in God, wonderful. That’s good-news-gospel for your life and situation. But there must be more, ever-more good news. Put frankly, good-news-gospel must be freed to be truly good for everyone—especially the other—in every generation.

A Brief Historical and Biblical Overview on the Evolution of Atonement
“Ahh, but Mike, isn’t this relativism?” I don’t think so. I think a better word may be rele-vant. For this is the only way to ensure that good-news-gospel doesn’t get hijacked by those who hold all the power.

More so, to engage in the ongoing work of making relevant meaning of Jesus’ death on a tree—the work of atonement—is a work that’s supported both historically and biblically. I’ll briefly explain.

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To learn more about the essence and evolution of atonement, pause from reading this reflection, read a reflection titled, Good News, The Essence of Atonement, and then come back.

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Historically speaking—over the centuries—different social mores and societies have emphasized different aspects of christian atonement based on its relevance. For example, in the earliest years the majority of christians thought that atonement was primarily for the devil. In later years the majority of christians thought that atonement was primarily for God. And in still later years christians began to think that atonement was primarily for humans. Here’s what I mean…

A Brief Historical Overview: A Satan-Ward Atonement
To the surprise of many, the earliest understanding of atonement in church history is that Jesus’ death was for the devil. This perspective is called “Christus Victor.” According to this theory, atonement dealt with a Divine conflict and victory during which Christ—Christus Victor—fought against and triumphed over evil because Jesus used his own body as bait to catch Satan who controlled the world.

A Brief Historical Overview: A God-Ward Atonement
Now, if you think that way of understanding atonement is a bit absurd, you’re not alone. By the eleventh century came the demise of Christus Victor’s satan-ward focus on atonement. Put frankly, Anselm of Canterbury wrote, “Supposing that the devil, or man, were his own master, or belonged to someone other than God, or was permanently in the power of someone other than God, then perhaps one could justly speak in those terms.” In other words, the world isn’t held by a devil because we are all held in and by God.

You see, Anselm and many of his contemporaries couldn’t conceive of a world somehow held in bondage by a devil. And so, believing that God alone is in power, not satan—satisfaction theory rose into prominence. According to satisfaction theory—which very much aligns with Paul’s primary focus on Jesus’ death and the social mores of feudalism— God needed Jesus’ blood as payment in order to be satisfied.

A Brief Historical Overview: A Human-Ward Atonement
But then came along Peter Abelard who—like Anselm of Canterbury—could not logically conceive of a world held in bondage by a devil. However, he also could not conceive of a God-ward atonement. Abelard struggled to imagine the goodness of a blood thirsty God saving humans by killing Jesus. And so, Abelard explained what’s been called “Humanistic Theory,” in which Jesus’ death wasn’t for satan or for God, but for humans who need to know the amazing depth of God’s love for humanity, which is demonstrated by Jesus’ self-giving on the cross.

It’s out of this perspective that Cone explains the atonement as “Divine Solidarity” in which God—in Jesus—suffers with all who suffer. Furthermore—according to Cone—in Jesus’ resurrection those who unjustly suffer and die have the hope of rising like Christ, into new life.

And so you see, church history reveals an evolution in the meaning of Jesus’ atonement based on the needs and perspectives of the times.

A Brief Biblical Overview: Satan-Ward, God-Ward, and Human-Ward Atonement
Surprisingly, the Bible actually affirms these various directions of atonement. In Revelation 12 we read that Jesus’ blood frees humans from the devil’s accusations—Satan-ward atonement. In Romans 3 we read that Jesus’ blood appeases the Divine who forgives sins—God-ward atonement. And in Romans 5 we read that Jesus’ death proves God’s love—human-ward atonement.

Surpassing all of these biblical perspectives is a transcendent view on atonement found in Colossians 1. It reads, “For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; through Him, I say, whether things on earth or things in heaven.” Isn’t that beautiful?

According to Colossians:
Anything and everything,
On earth or in heaven,
Is reconciled to God, through Jesus. 

That’s how big and buoyant and relevant Jesus’ death on the cross can be, if we only allow it.

Concluding Thoughts
As I understand it, church history and the Bible invite us into the ongoing meaning-making of atonement as good news for today, with a few constraints that I’ll state as questions:

• Is this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross truly good news?

• Does this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross rouse more and more freedom?

• Does this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross rouse more and more healing for the sick?

• Does this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross rouse more and more release for the oppressed?

• Does this way of understanding Jesus’ death on the cross rouse more and more proclamation of God’s favor on everyone? Yes, sure, spiritually but more importantly, literally?

If the answer to these questions is a hearty “yes” then we are on the path to the good-news-gospel that the Divine is working here, now, today.

Finally, church history and the Bible insist that whoever has been set free, healed, and included in the beloved community of God, must keep asking—again and again—“Whose next?” And whoever is next must have a voice in the meaning-making of atonement so that it’s truly good for their lives and situations, today. This you see is a dynamic, always-evolving atonement that continues the work of God in Jesus. This is the way in which atonement frees us from a static cross, a violent cross, and a perpetually racist cross in which the privileged hold the keys to an impotent salvation that means very little to those who truly suffer.

And so, black theology shines Divine light on the meaning of Jesus’ death, which is liberation found through God’s solidarity with all who suffer. And this prescient understanding urges white, straight, privileged western christians to make an exodus out of their captivity in Paul’s atonement in order to participate in an atonement that flows with milk and honey, here and now.

Mary's Christmas

Merry Twelfth Day of Christmas! 

Divine light shines from a child in a manger, reminding us that Divinity is not up there or out there, but right here, among us. However, this reflection isn’t about Jesus—it’s about Mary, the mother of Jesus. 

In the biblical account, Matthew simply tells us that Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Thankfully, Luke offers some more information. Luke tells us that Mary was visited by the angel Gabriel, who declared to her, “Greetings, you who are highly favored, the Lord is with you!”

Mary, we’re told, is troubled.

The angel then tells Mary not to be afraid, that she’ll be with child, and that she’s to name the child, “Jesus.” To which Mary declared, “How is this to be since I’m yet a virgin?” And the angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, the power of the Most High will overshadow you, and that which is born from within you, will be called ‘the Son of God.” And Mary, famously replied, 

“I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said.”

Fast forward nine months and we bear witness to Christmas, the light of the world, when Jesus is born. But again, this reflection isn’t about Jesus—it’s about Mary, the mother of Jesus.

Mary, Through the Lens of Womanist Theology
If my experience in church is anything like yours then you know very little about Mary. What we often do with Mary—if she’s talked about at all—is we admire her famous response, “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said.”

If we go any further with Mary, it’s usually somehow connected to her surrender. I.e.: Mary surrendered to God’s will for her life.

If we go any further than that, we may even make Mary’s story into a principle. Something like: It is good to surrender to God’s will.

Of course, for most good protestants, God’s will is clearly articulated in the Bible, and so,  surrendering to God—like Mary—means obeying the Bible.

And suddenly, this strange, provocative, and revolutionary story involving a woman named “Mary” becomes a lesson on biblical obedience. But what if such response neuters the Mary story? Or, at least, what if there’s more to the Mary story that speaks to her experience from which we can learn?

Enter Womanist Theology. Womanist theology is a form of reflection that places the religious and moral perspectives of women at the center of its method. Womanist theology intentionally engages theological problems such as class, gender, and race. Furthermore, womanist theology reimagines old religious language and symbols in order to give them depth, texture, and relevance for today.

Mary is a young, betrothed, but yet to be married virgin, who says “yes” to a child—Divine light; Christ—inside of her very own body.

Through the lens of womanist theology I’d like to explain some of the implications to this story.

A young, betrothed, but yet to be married virgin who says “yes” to a child—even a divine child—inside of her body? Well, such a person would not have been received as the hero that Mary eventually became.

According to Jewish law, such a person—betrothed, yet to be married, and with child—had a name: adulteress. We actually see a woman like this in John chapter 8. In that story, the teachers of the law and Pharisees brought a woman before Jesus, saying, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. Now, the law of Moses commanded us to stone such women. What do you say?” 

It’s probably for this very reason that we read in Matthew chapter 1, these words:

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.

You see, according to social mores and religious constructs, there was a way to deal with women who became pregnant without being married to a man.

But in this story?
Located in our sacred text?

Well, we read these words:

But just when Joseph had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.”

Can you imagine? Joseph had lived his entire life in a world set on what to call a person like Mary. And, Joseph had lived his entire life in a world set on what to do with a person like Mary.

But in this story—a story in which a woman says “yes” to an experience that is outside of social mores and religious constructs? Well in this story—according to the angel—Mary’s “yes” to a child is conceived in her by the Holy Spirit.

Let us not miss the profundity. I mean, just for a moment, try and imagine a contemporary situation in which a person steps outside of acceptable social mores or religious constructs:

A person who chooses not to get married. 
A person who lives with a partner but is not married. 
A person whose gender identity is different than the sex assigned at birth.
A person who decides to get divorced.
A person who chooses to marry someone with the same sex. 

We religious people have names for such difference, don’t we? They’re not nice names. Nonetheless, they’re names that are sung in a thousand places. 

But here’s the thing—what if a person’s particular conception for their life isn’t foolish or sinful or ungodly? What if, like Mary—by stepping outside of acceptable social mores and religious constructs—a person may be saying “yes” to life as it is conceived in them by the Holy Spirit?

The Joseph Archetype
Joseph is an archetype. An archetype is a typical example of a person or thing. In the biblical account, Joseph is an archetype of social and religious privilege. As a cisgender, straight man, he was able to judge Mary’s burgeoning life as “inappropriate.” Furthermore, he was expected to treat a person like Mary in a certain way, which the text makes clear, he intended to follow through on with divorce.

Similarly today, it is most often heterosexual married people, or married people with kids, or people who have never been divorced, or straight people, or cisgender people who cannot conceive of the Holy Spirit rousing anything different in this world or in another person’s life. And unfortunately, the angel Gabriel isn’t popping up in the lives of societally and religiously normative people to declare, “Do not be afraid, for the child conceived in that person is from the Holy Spirit.”

And all of a sudden I’m writing about the Josephs in this world who have the privilege to decide how they will respond to a person like Mary. Whereas Mary had no idea that an angel would explain her situation to Joseph. All she had was her experience and her knowing, that her conception of God’s light—which was outside of social mores and religious constructs—was conceived in her by the Holy Spirit.

But here’s the thing… If Mary had responded to her experience like Joseph. That is to say, if Mary had held firm to societal and religious expectations by declaring, “I cannot and will not have a child until I am married!”

Then there would be
no Christ. 

There would be
no gift. 

Certainly, there would be 
no Christmas.

The Mary Archetype
And this brings me to Mary, who is also an archetype. Mary is an archetype of people who fall outside of social and religious expectations. Using an academic word to depict Mary’s experience, she was “queer," which is to say that Mary conceived of a life that was different from the norm.

Now we’re getting to the complexity of goodness that is Mary’s life. 

It was a life, inspired by God, that expanded the boundaries of socially and religiously acceptable ways of making Divine light manifest in this world. Much like people today who know that they know in their knowing, that they’re different. Although their path is not ordinary; although they may endure a whole bunch of othering by the Josephs all around them; they choose their truest and deepest selves and step into the life that God conceives in them.

To be clear, this is not wrong or sinful or unbiblical. Much the opposite! As I understand it, this is right and righteous and wonderfully biblical, like Mary, who invites us into conceptions of Christ that expand contemporary notions of God among us.

You see, basking in the light of Mary’s Christmas, that which is “queer” may very well be the formation of Christ, of gift, of Christmas in this world.

Moving Beyond “Slippery Slope” Fears
“Oh, well, that’s a slippery slope, trusting people’s knowing!”

Honestly, Josephs love to use that language. It’s as if—in their minds—any expression of life that’s different from their own and society will slip into utter chaos.

This is often how the thinking goes. It’s grounded in a belief that left on our own, we’ll just keep getting worse. But even our own Bible shows a trajectory from law to grace, from tribalism to inclusion, and from violence to peace. And our world, albeit messed up, is slowly moving toward something better: More rights, more care, more acceptance, more love. In fact, in the midst of all that’s bad, I want to say again and again, with Dr. King, that the moral arc of this universe is long but it bends toward justice.

For this reason, I don’t think the real fear is a slippery slope. I think the real fear is a world in which Joseph’s way is no longer the dominant way of being in the world. But here’s the thing, if Joseph’s way were to win out then there would be very little progress. Normal would be normal and that would be forever normal. But just look back 50, 100, 150, 200 years and you’ll see that it has most often been people like Mary—those who stood outside of that which was deemed to be acceptable—who have broadened the scope of that which society and religion call “good."

Singing Mary’s Christmas Song
On this Twelfth Day of Christmas, may Mary-the-different; may Mary-the-social-and-religious-construct-breaker, sing for all to hear: 

My soul magnifies the Lord,
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.

On this Twelfth Day of Christmas, may those who resonate with Mary’s experience enter more deeply into their knowing, trusting the leading of God who is forever breaking boundaries, especially through the lives of those who are “different.” 

On this Twelfth Day of Christmas, may the minds of Josephs change. To use a biblical word for that, may today’s Josephs “repent” as Mary’s children follow in her footsteps, and like Jesus, break barriers until every person truly belongs as they are, in their deepest knowing.

On this Twelfth Day of Christmas, may we all learn to trust the knowing of others and perhaps even declare with the angel Gabriel, “Do not be afraid, for the child conceived in you is from the Holy Spirit.”

And from our collective womb, may we Christians follow after our mother, Mary, who audaciously invites us into conceptions of Christ that expand this world’s notions of God among us.

Good News, The Essence of Atonement

Atonement is essential to Christian thought. In its most simple form, atonement refers to a reconciled state between parties that were formerly alienated in some manner (Robert S. Paul, The Atonement and the Sacraments, 20). However, as important as this word is said to be, you may find it interesting to know that the word “atonement” isn’t actually used in the New Testament. Isn’t that curious? Atonement is a—if not the—paramount concept in Christian perspective. Many theologians would heartily state that atonement is the whole point of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. Others, being less bombastic, would say that atonement is central to the meaning of the gospel. Yet, as important as this word is said to be, it is altogether absent from the New Testament.

A Brief Word Study
In the New Testament, at least two English translations—the NRSV and NIV—attempt the word “atonement” twice and the word “atoning” another two times. However, these translations aren’t precise usages for what’s in the Greek. Forgive me for this brief translation lesson, but it’s important. Romans 3:25, Hebrews 2:17, 1 John 2:2, and 1 John 4:10 all contain the Greek root hileos. Hileos refers to being favorably disposed, with implication of overcoming obstacles that are unfavorable to a relationship (BDAG). In these particular verses, we’re told that Jesus’ shed blood is a sacrifice, which allows God to forgive sins. While the idea that Jesus’ blood allows God to forgive sins fits within the theological conception of atonement—I.e.: the reconciling of alienated parties—the NAS’ translation of hileos as “propitiation” is more appropriate. Propitiation means “to appease a god,” which is exactly what these four verses describe. As we’re about to see, propitiation is certainly an aspect of atonement, but it doesn’t sufficiently capture the totality of meaning and nuance that’s associated with atonement as a theological concept.

A Conceptual Notion
Because the word “atonement” doesn’t actually exist in the Greek, it is a conceptual notion. That is to say, because we can’t simply look at how the word “atonement” is used in the New Testament to derive meaning, we’re left to consider expressions of alienation between two parties who are reconciled. We then point at each expression and say, “That’s atonement.” This is the only way to impute theological meaning into a word that doesn’t exist in the Bible. 

What follows is the New Testament’s multifaceted articulation of alienation between two parties who are reconciled. I.e.: Biblical conceptions of atonement. Rather than exhaustively demonstrate each kind of atonement with numerous verses, I’m merely providing one reference for each conception. 

In Romans 3:23-25a, atonement results in
propitiation—
Jesus’ blood appeases the Divine
who forgives sins.

In Romans 5:6-8, atonement results in
proof of love—
Jesus’ death for strangers
demonstrates Divine affection.

In Romans 5:1-2, atonement results in
peace—
Faith in Jesus justifies humans.

In Galatians 4:3-5, atonement results in
freedom—
Jesus’ life redeems humans
from being under Law. 

In Ephesians 2:11-16, atonement results in
reconciliation—
Jesus’ blood makes two races, one.

In Hebrews 9:13-14, atonement results in
innocence—
Jesus’ blood cleanses
human consciences.

In Hebrews 9:24-25, atonement results in
the end of sacrificial systems—
Jesus’ blood satiates
Divine need for sacrifice.

In Revelation 12:10-11, atonement results in
silence—
Jesus’ blood frees humans
from the devil’s accusations. 

In Hebrews 13:11-12, atonement results in
holiness—
Jesus’ blood makes humans
acceptable to the Divine.

According to these passages—and many more just like them—atonement is about much more than mere propitiation. Atonement makes for peace, freedom, reconciliation, innocence, and holiness. Atonement silences demonic accusation and it proves Divine love. 

The Evolution of Atonement’s Direction
Beyond that which atonement accomplishes, the significance of who atonement is for has an interesting history of evolution. Over the centuries, some have thought that atonement is primarily for God. Others have thought that atonement is primarily for humans. Still others have thought that atonement is primarily for the devil. Let me explain. 

Satan-Ward Atonement
To the surprise of many, the earliest understanding of atonement in church history is that it was for the devil. This perspective is called “Christus Victor.” According to this theory, “The idea of the atonement [is] a Divine conflict and victory; Christ—Christus Victor—fights against and triumphs over the evil powers of the world, the ‘tyrants’ under which mankind is in bondage and suffering” (Gustaf Aulén, Christus Victor, 4). 

It may be helpful for me to put this idea in historical language. Irenaeus explains, “For he [Jesus] fought and conquered; for He was man contending for the fathers, and through obedience doing away with disobedience completely: for He bound the strong man [satan], and set free the weak…” (Ante-Nicene Fathers, Against Heresies, 3.18.6). Rufinus is even more clear in explaining that atonement is for the devil. He writes, “For the object of that mystery of the Incarnation which we expound just now was that the divine virtue of the Son of God, as though it were a hook concealed beneath the form and fashion of human flesh… might lure on the Prince of this world [satan] to a conflict, to whom offering His flesh as a bait, His divinity underneath might catch him and hold him fast with its hook, through the shedding of His immaculate blood” (Nicene and Post-Nicene, Rufinus, A Commentary on the Apostles’ Creed, 16).

As wild as this perspective may seem, please note that both Irenaeus and Rufinus, along with the majority of their contemporaries, sincerely believed that humankind was in literal bondage under satan, which kept them from relationship with the Divine. For this reason, in their minds, atonement occurred through an actual fight in which Jesus’ death was “bait” that would “catch [satan] and hold him fast with its hook,” freeing humans to enter into relationship with God.

God-Ward Atonement
If you think that this way of understanding atonement is a bit absurd, you’re not alone. By the eleventh century came the demise of Christus Victor’s satan-ward focus on atonement. Put frankly, Anselm of Canterbury (1033-1109) writes, “For, supposing that the devil, or man, were his own master, or belonged to someone other than God, or was permanently in the power of someone other than God, then perhaps one could justly speak in those terms” (Anselm of Canterbury, Why God Became Man, I.7). It’s this precise perspective—that God alone is in power, not satan—from which satisfaction theory, arises.

According to satisfaction theory, atonement is necessarily directed toward God because humans are depraved and in debt, cannot repay their debt, and are in need of making satisfaction to God, which is made by Jesus’ shed blood on a cross. In this theory, Jesus’ shed blood fulfills God’s requirement of satisfaction (Anselm of Canterbury, Why God Became Man, I.18). 

This theory became prominent in The Reformation and was antecedent to the notion of penal substitution. More so, this conception of atonement caught fire in the 1700s when preachers like Jonathan Edwards began preaching hell and brimstone to New England settlers. Anyone familiar with evangelicalism understands this message because it is, for most evangelicals, the meaning of atonement and the work of the gospel.

Human-Ward Atonement
Around the same time as Anselm’s satisfaction theory came Peter Aberlard (1079-1142) who, like Anselm of Canterbury, could not logically conceive of a satan-ward atonement. However, he also could not conceive of a God-ward atonement. Aberlard struggled to imagine the efficacy of a blood thirsty God saving humans by killing Jesus. Thus, he explains that reconciliation occurs between humanity and Divinity when humans observe God to be kind, as opposed to vindictive (Peter Aberlard, Ethics: Know Yourself, I. 161-166). Aberlard’s human-ward focus on atonement is often referred to as “Humanistic Theory,” which explains that the work of Christ consists in demonstrating to the world the amazing depth of God’s love for humanity. 

Although Aberlard’s human-ward atonement didn’t catch on at the time, its focus on humankind’s struggle to trust in God’s love had resonance during The Reformation in the writings of, for example, Faustus Socinus (1539-1604) as a counter argument to penal substitution. More so, human-ward atonement has found incredible resonance with Christian mystics. Francis of Assisi, Bonaventure, Julian of Norwich, and Teilhard De Chardin, along with contemporary mystics such as Matthew Fox, Ilia Delio, and Richard Rhor all emphasize the atonement as human-ward. For these, the death of Jesus is an expression of God’s love, resulting in reconciliation. Rhor succinctly explains human-ward atonement writing, “Jesus did not come to change the mind of God about humanity; Jesus came to change the mind of humanity about God” (Richard Rhor, “Love, Not Atonement,” 5/4/2017, cac.org).

Summary
As I see it, in 2021, we find ourselves in a place much like that of Anselm of Canterbury in the eleventh century. Anselm—due to the slow but steady progression of human consciousness—couldn’t fathom the need for an atonement that used Jesus as bait to hook the devil thereby freeing humanity from his demonic clutches. Similarly, many today cannot fathom a Divinity in need of his child’s spilt blood in order to forgive and to live in harmonious relationship with humans. This whole idea strikes most reasonable people as an ancient and barbaric way of seeing the world and understanding God. Yet, depending on the consciousness of individuals today, it’s possible to find expression for each direction of atonement: some pentecostals emphasize a satan-ward atonement; evangelicals explain a God-ward atonement; many progressive Christians explain a human-ward atonement.

Atonement is What Matters
This context helps to situate us in the heart of the issue, which can be stated as a question: So what exactly is the meaning of atonement? Answer: The story of Jesus’ death on a cross is exactly what you need it to mean in order to rest into your inextricable union with all things—God, creation, self, and others.

Now, before deciding that I’m awash in relativism, please hear me out. First, as we’ve observed, the word “atonement” does not exist in the New Testament. Therefore, it is a conceptual notion that imports its meaning from many different Bible passages that articulate all kinds of alienation, which are then said to be reconciled—atoned for—by Jesus. Second, as we’ve also observed, church history reveals an evolution in the direction of atonement, depending on human consciousness—sometimes devil-ward, sometimes God-ward, and sometimes human-ward. 

With these points in mind, I’d like to conclude by commenting on a passage in Colossians that gestures toward the soul of atonement, which I’ve been saving. Paul writes in Colossians 1:19-20, “For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things [my emphasis] to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; through Him, I say, whether things on earth or things in heaven.” According to Paul, anything and everything, on earth or in heaven, is reconciled to God through Jesus. 

I believe that this is a helpful contribution to the conception of atonement; it’s also a fitting summary for this reflection. Does your perceived lack of propitiation, peace, freedom, innocence, holiness, etc., cause you to experience alienation? Paul explains that everything is reconciled through the Jesus story. Furthermore, do you think that the devil, God, your own heart, or any other person or thing is in need of atonement? Paul explains that the Jesus story satiates divinities and sets humanity free to realize and accept their union with all things.

This is the good news of atonement—
there is no alienation. 

This is the good news of atonement—
the Jesus story is a means
through which we come to appreciate
that all things,
are reconciled. 

Therefore, if the Jesus story is somehow constrained to result in just one aspect of atonement—for example, propitiation—then it is not robust enough to reflect the depth and breadth of atonement. And if the Jesus story is somehow construed to increase just one person’s sense of alienation, then it does not accurately reflect the good news of atonement. For at the heart of the Jesus story—according to the Bible, theology, and church history—is a beautiful conception called “atonement” which, if it truly be the essence of atonement, must function in every generation, every social more, and every heart, to reconcile whatever it is that we humans experience and name as, “estranged.”

The Epiphany Gap, Response, Part II.

Since my last reflection I continue to receive feedback from—as far as I can tell—heterosexual, and primarily male, evangelical Christians. So, I’m providing a second and final response to my sermon from January 10, 2021. I have three kinds of people in mind as my intended audience for this reflection. First, I hope that this reflection rouses evangelicals—who find themselves questioning the goodness of their theology and systems—to demand change, today. Second, I hope that this reflection emboldens evolving pastors of conservative churches to courageously lead their communities to fully include women and LGBTQ people. Third, I hope that this reflection provides helpful language and reasoning for progressive Christians who find themselves in conversation with evangelicals who continue forward in exclusive ideologies.

“Give Them Time”
This was the exact heading of a section in my previous reflection, but it continues to come up and so I’d like to approach this mindset from another angle. Before doing so, I want to be very clear: The march toward equity, justice, and racial equality for people of color is in need of much progress. This movement must continue ever-onward. My forthcoming use of racial language about segregation, to try and emphasize the gravity of not allowing women and LGBTQ people to fully belong, is not meant to diminish or undermine the advancement of racial equality.

Having made that clear, if I had called out pastors or churches in Portland for advocating racial segregation in their doctrine or policies, I don’t think that many people, if any, would have written and asked me to give these pastors or churches more time for their theology to evolve. Let me explain. Had I called out churches and pastors for not allowing people of color to be members, or on staff, or on their elder teams, I believe—or at least hope—that those who wrote me saying, “Give them time” would have chosen to stand with me to say, “Enough,” and to continue saying “enough” until racial segregation in the name of God came to its necessary end. Unfortunately, misogyny and homophobia haven’t risen to the level of moral reprehensibility in the church that racial segregation has, and this makes me sad, and if I’m honest, mad.

The pastors, churches, and kind of Christianity that I referred to in my sermon continue to promote, very literally, gender and sexuality segregation. “Give them more time.” No. In Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech he called the patience that people are extending these leaders and churches, “the tranquilizer of gradualism.” And that is what this is. Straight men have the privilege of progressing as slowly as they want because they are able to lead and belong as they are. They suffer from a chronic lack of urgency. I am advocating for straight men to use their privilege, and women and LGBTQ people to continue raising their voices, until full inclusion is made manifest in evangelical doctrine and policies.

In a previous reflection I cited Gary Cutting, a philosopher at Notre Dame, who writes in an article titled, “How Religion Can Lead to Violence,” that violence in religion is often tempered by social mores. Using Western Christianity as a case study, he looks back and concludes that, overall, the church has been pulled forward by society’s sense of good. A couple examples that I provided to support Cutting’s point were racial equality and women’s rights. In general, the church lagged behind these good movements, until—due to society’s sense of human decency and justice—it could no longer do so. The irony that I point out in that reflection is that the church, in its earliest days, was on the forefront of shifting social mores to make room for those that society said could not belong. My sermon expressed similar sentiment. It was an invitation to return to the early Jesus movement in which the church is not begrudgingly pulled forward by society but, rather, is on the forefront of ever-expanding equality and inclusion. 

If you’re now thinking, “If it wasn’t for what the Bible says, then I’d agree with you, but the Bible is clear.” Please understand that the way in which you’re reading the Bible is not ancient, historical, or theologically sensible. I wrote a reflection about this and I’d like to encourage you to read it. But for now, just for a moment, I want to ask that you set aside the misappropriation of a limited number of Bible verses about women and LGBTQ people to see a deeply good and loving follower of Jesus that you know, who is either female or queer. For a moment, see them in your mind’s eye. Really. Take a moment to pause and see them—their heart, their humor, their warmth, their wisdom. Now, ask yourself, “Would my church benefit from this person’s diversity, leadership, and presence?” I believe with my whole heart that the answer, deep in your soul, is “yes,” isn’t it?

With this in mind, imagine looking the person that you’re thinking about in the eye and telling them, “Because you are a woman, you cannot lead at the highest level of my church.” Or, “Because you’re married to somebody of the same sex, you cannot be on staff at my church.” If this makes you feel sad or sick or horrified, then you can no longer call churches “home” that adhere to gender and sexuality segregation in their doctrine and policies. Otherwise, you are participating in the tranquilizer of gradualism. Worse, you are tranquilizing the advancement of inclusion—gospel—in Jesus’ name.

“They are More Evolved Than you Realize”
I’m not sure if this statement is accurate or not. I’ve heard it a few times. But for the sake of this reflection, let’s say that some pastors at evangelical churches honestly think that women should lead at every level and that LGBTQ people can engage in same-sex relationships and lead at every level. However, despite their evolved convictions, let’s also say that these pastors are struggling to know how to communicate their convictions and to lead their communities through change. I appreciate that these pastors are evolving and progressing internally, but until they align the churches they lead with their actual convictions so that there is truly inclusion, their leadership is disintegrated, inauthentic, and it’s causing real harm. 

Just prior to helping lead our church through broadening its marriage practice, someone suggested that I read Edwin H. Friedman’s prescient book, A Failure of Nerve. To this day I’m not sure that I could have withstood the pressure and continued forward without its wisdom. One section stands out to me as I write this reflection, especially as it applies to leaders who hold back their convictions as a means to express kindness to their church bodies. In Chapter Four, “Survival In A Hostile Environment: The Fallacy of Empathy,” Friedman writes:

[An] emotional barrier to reorienting leadership in our time [is] the focus on empathy rather than responsibility. The great myth here is that feeling deeply for others increases their ability to mature and survive; its corollary is that effort to understand another should take precedence over the endeavor to make one’s own self clear…. Once again, it is responsibility, not empathy, that is the crucial variable in this equation. Indeed, the focus on being empathetic toward others, rather than on being responsible for one’s own integrity, can actually lessen the odds for an organism’s survival by lowering the other’s pain thresholds, helping them to avoid challenge and compromising the mobilization of their “nerve.” And when it is the leader who has fallen into the empathy trap, sometimes it is not only the survival of the follower (patient, child, client, or institution) that is compromised and put at risk, but also the survival of the leader.

These words precisely explain my experience. For a few months I kept personal my evolving convictions, and it tore me up. I was growing and stretching, new horizons were birthing inside of me, the gospel’s goodness was becoming more pervasively good, but in the name of “empathy” for the church I led, I hid my burgeoning convictions. But as Friedman notes, this kind of empathy is a myth. It is a failure of nerve. Not only was I failing to be responsible for leading—which hindered our community’s growth—but my empathy put at risk my own survival as an integrated and honest person. And every minute of every day that I held back from truly leading, I was responsible for a community that told LGBTQ people that they couldn’t fully belong.

Leadership is not maintaining a community’s peace at the expense of putting asunder gender and sexuality segregation. That is fear. Christian leadership is speaking up, stepping out, and moving forward in directions that gesture more deeply toward the heart of the Divine as it’s revealed through the life of Jesus. Looking back at our church’s journey, my primary regret is that I wasn’t more bold, sooner.

If you’re leading a church and this reflection is moving something inside of you, will you listen to and follow your knowing? Will you put aside empathy to harness the responsibility to lead your community through necessary change so that women and LGBTQ people are no longer second-class citizens in the name of Jesus? Based on my experience, the path toward full inclusion is worth every heartache and sleepless night. And truly, the pain is near to nothing compared to that which women and LGBTQ people have suffered due to doctrine and policies that segregate based on their God-realized gender and sexuality.

“By Calling Out Churches and Pastors You Are Not Extending a Common Table”
At Pearl we say that we exist to express a sacred story and to extend a common table that animate life by love. About our common table—to put it simply—we say that every person and every part of every person belongs. In response to this, some wrote to me saying that by calling out pastors and churches that do not fully include women and LGBTQ people, I am not truly extending a common table. 

About this comment, I want to be clear: That kind of thinking is misconstruing a common table. Foundational to a common table is that every person belongs. Yes, evangelicals belong at this table. However, most evangelicals won’t join this table because they believe the opposite—they believe that the table is only for some, and that every person outside their particular group does not actually and fully belong. The Divine invitation as it’s revealed by Jesus is to a table at which every person belongs. However, those who cannot accept this all-inclusive goodness self-select out and create pseudo-divine-tables at which women and LGBTQ cannot belong. My sermon was an invitation to God’s common table and away from closed tables.

In the fifteenth century, Russian artist Andrei Rublev created what is considered by some to be the most famous painting of the Trinity. It’s called “The Hospitality of Abraham,” better known today as, “The Trinity.” Take a look.

Let’s pause here for a moment. 

Notice the humility of each person in the Trinity sitting at the table—heads bowed, hands gently resting. 

Notice how each person in the Trinity appears to be condescending to the other—that is, each is yielding to the other. It’s as though they are equals, opening themselves toward the other in order to listen to and to learn from one another. 

And notice how the painting puts this Triune God into a circle. Around and around they move in relational humility and condescension. But Rublev’s icon is even better than a table around which the godhead abides. About this table, art scholar Dr. Anita Strezova explains:

A dynamic pattern of rotational symmetry connects the three angels. Their round dance is charmingly depicted in Rublev’s icon where the dogma of perichoresis involves “making room,” at the centre of the Hospitality. The artist has created a space that enfolds, yet permits discernment. Hence, this icon makes a room for the observer, and offers hospitality to him as a fourth guest.

I’ll conclude by emphasizing Strezova’s last sentence, “Hence, this icon makes a room for the observer, and offers hospitality to him as a fourth guest.” As I understand it, this is the heart of the gospel—to hospitably make room for every person without limitation or qualification. You, whoever you are, belong at the Divine’s common table. This is good news. This is gospel. And this is the work of every church, church goer, and church leader, until every person fully belongs.