jesusThis past weekend I had the exceptional dining pleasure of chipped beef on toast (with eggs over easy) at the Dry Dock restaurant in Duluth, Minnesota.  It followed morning worship (of God) then proceeded to the afternoon worship (of football) with the Vikings-Ravens game on one screen and the Packers-Lions’s game on another.  I rooted with equal fervor for both the Packers and the Vikings and my waitress asked me, with hand on hip, “What are you doing?”  “Cheering for the Packers and the Vikings,” I proudly proclaimed.  “You can’t do that!” she accused.  Rolling her eyes, she said, “You can’t be both a Viking’s fan AND a Packers fan.  You have to pick a side!”  She marched back to the bar and I heard her tell the bartender, “he’s rooting for the Packers AND the Vikings,” with as much contempt as if I’d said I liked trampling baby bunnies.  Being a fan — shorthand for being a fanatic — is serious business.  We defend the home team as if it were the most important thing on earth.  Every other team is “the enemy.”  We want our team to not just beat opponents, but to annihilate them!  When two teams are in the same division, like, say, the Vikings and the Packers, the animosity is greater as is the sense of who is good and who is not.

This same level of fanatical passion exists with some in the church.  (It is well to remember that religious fanaticism is the root of the word “fan” to begin with.) I am constantly amazed by the passion with which Christians — some United Methodists among them — denounce and despise members of other faiths.  I have long been a proponent of interfaith collaboration and understanding.  I believe that Christ destroyed the dividing walls of hostility, and I am sadly distressed by Christians (including United Methodists) who devote much of their time and energy to rebuilding new dividing walls of hostility.  Why do Christians want to undo what Christ did?

Years ago one of my colleagues at the General Board of Discipleship came into my office to discuss a project.  She was visibly upset within moments of entering my office.  I tried to get her to tell me what was wrong, but it was only through the rumor-mill that I found out what was wrong.  In my office were icons and images from many religious groups that I have worked with over the years.  I have a labyrinth — from ancient Sufi tradition.  I have a carving of Ganesha, the Hindu god.  I have a beautiful Buddha given to me in honor of my efforts to foster interfaith dialogue and understanding.  I have a Star of David from Israel, a beautiful symbol made by a poor, mentally challenged man in Jerusalem.  Each and every one of these symbols of religious belief offended and irritated my colleague.  She “ratted me out” as being a “blasphemous traitor.”  (her words). 

I love inter-religious encounters as a way to witness to the love of Jesus Christ.  I love learning of other beliefs to know what motivates people to live in positive, healthy, and productive ways in our world.  I want to find common ground — ways to build bridges between the people who want the world to be a better place.  What I realize is that there are a lot of Christians who don’t want the same thing.  A man in a recent workshop was obviously deeply offended that I would entertain the idea of working with Hindus, Buddhists, or Muslims, as I promoted ecumenical and interfaith collaboration.  To him, these people were enemies.  These people were Packer fans to every good Vikings fan in the congregation.  The dividing wall of “us” versus “them” was both crystal clear and unassailable.

We have many people in our denomination who feel this way.  I remember a meeting a few years ago when I was talking  about the need to listen — to build bridges — with people of other faiths.  I was talking about special challenges in some areas, and I mentioned that in Colorado dialogue with Buddhists was imperative.  A well respected and renowned evangelist from our denomination cut me down, saying, “Those people have absolutely nothing we need to hear.  They need to listen to us!  They’re just waiting to deceive us.  We’re Christians and we have the truth.  We don’t need to listen to anyone else.”

I received an email a few years ago in response to a positive review I made of a book written by a Buddhist monk.  The book advocated unconditional love, acceptance, and compassion for street-people with mental disorders and challenges.  Here is a quote from that email.  “Why are you promoting unChristian thinking?  This is a book of blasphemy and sin.   The man who wrote it is Buddhist.  This is a pagan sinner, and we should not listen to his instruction.  For you to promote his teaching is  sin.  Caring for the poor is only valid if it is Christian.”  This was from an ordained United Methodist pastor.  It fascinates me that the message is conditional upon the messenger.  If a Christian says something, it is true and valid, but if a non-Christian says it, it is not?

When I was a teenager, I asked a pastor who was teaching about sin in the world, “what part of the world did God not create?”  He said many parts of the world decided not to follow Him.  I asked, “So these people are outside God’s power and grace?”  The pastor told me, “Of course not.”  My response, even then, was, “So why are we afraid to talk to people who don’t believe what we do?  Shouldn’t these be the very people we want to be with?”  He hemmed, hawwed, then changed the subject.  We don’t want to witness to people who are different.  We seem to only like those who already agree with us. 

I honestly believe we have no future as The United Methodist Church that is not ecumenical in the best sense of the word — that is, also inter-faith.  I shared a story of Hindus, Christians and Muslims uniting to save the lives of children at risk and a United Methodist woman yelled at me that I was trying to destroy the church.  She actually said it would be better for a child to die than for its life to be saved by the efforts of sinners, and that for “our church” to work with sinners made her want to leave the church.  I wish she would.  I believe that Jesus Christ is the one true Son of God and that salvation comes through faith in Christ.  But I do not believe that my blessed brothers and sisters around the world who believe differently than I do are evil or hateful or blasphemers.  I want to be with them.  I want to witness to the power of Jesus Christ in my life to be a source of light and life and hope and grace and joy.  I want them to see how great our God can be.  I cannot conceive of a single reason to hate them, to spurn them, to ignore them, or to refuse to work with them.  Jesus destroyed the dividing walls of hostility.  Why do Christians want to build them back up?  Christianity isn’t a team sport.  We aren’t well served by fan(atic)s.  We need people who just “love the game,” and can root for all sides.  We need a church that roots for the home team, but doesn’t “hate the opposition”… for if there wasn’t opposition there wouldn’t even be a game.

24 responses to “That’s the Old Team Spirit”

  1. ericpo Avatar
    ericpo

    Rev Dick

    Clearly your graphic implies what we all already know….that God is a Notre Dame fan. I know God wishes the best for all of his creation but Notre Dame is his favorite!!

  2. dave Avatar
    dave

    I do not play/did not play football, and I have a grasp of just a few basics of the game, but I love the way Bret Favre enjoys the game. So my Wisconsin-based resolution of the present dilemma is really quite simple: I cheer for the team Bret is quarterbacking.

  3. John Meunier Avatar
    John Meunier

    Why then are folks so afraid? Could it be that their own faith is so shallowly rooted that they are afraid that mere contact with another tradition will cause them to lose their faith?

    Your question is important, Jay.

    I am wary of seeing it as a matter of “shallow” faith and fear. That may play into it in some cases, but it feels like dismissing or belittling the exclusivists to put that down as the cause.

    Why did the waitress act with such shock at Dan’s Viking-Packer allegience? It was not her shallow support for the Vikings or fear. It was her intense devotion to her team. She might accept – in concept – that other people might cheer for the Packers, but to cheer for both teams at once is what shocked her.

    I think many exclusivists understand that other people “cheer” for other understandings of God. They just cannot imagine how you could be devoted to Jesus Christ and say that Hindus also have been given true revelation.

    To accept such a statement changes their entire notion of God or smacks of luke warm faith that accepts anything. It calls into question what they have been taught about revelation. It contradicts some of the more straightforward affirmations of the faith and statements in the Bible.

    They end up asking, “Why be a Christian, then?”

    John Wesley’s sermon the catholic spirit is among my favorite. I do not wish to argue against the basic spirit of Dan’s post. But as we try to figure out why people react the way we do, we owe it to them to have a complex and robust understanding of why they say and do the things they do.

  4. Ed Avatar
    Ed

    I think Jay is right on when he says “Could it be that their own faith is so shallowly rooted that they are afraid that mere contact with another tradition will cause them to lose their faith?” I find that most of the people in the pews have a very shallow faith and cannot handle anything which may challenge them. In the UMC there is such a lack of depth to people’s faith. I find it very sad.

  5. Jay Avatar

    I am currently going through a situation in which a leader in our church is leaving because “Obama said that ‘there may be many paths to God…’ and that means Christians shouldn’t listen to Obama.” “After all,” he noted, “John’s Gospel says that the only way to the Father is through Jesus.” Of course, when I pointed out the passage in Romans where Paul all but says that all Jews will be ultimately redeemed, he didn’t want to talk about that.

    The exclusivity claims of Christianity are certainly something we have to wrestle with, and yet, as you so rightly point out, they don’t mean that those outside the Christian folk are our enemies. Even more importantly, there are indeed things we can still learn from these folks about what it means to be a faithful Christian. I have said repeatedly that I have learned more about the deeper meaning of Christian identity through the study of Judaism than through any “Christian” writer, for that is our heritage. While I am not a Buddhist nor find that system a path to enlightenment for myself, folks like Thic Nhat Han have helped me to better understand what it means to experience the presence of the divine here and now, recognizing that God is present with us now, not simply in the great by and by.

    At the same time, there is a danger as Adam noted in attempting to deny our Christian heritage and beliefs in the name of interfaith relationship. There was a time period when our daughter was enrolled in a preschool run by the local synagogue (which was using our UMC building while theirs was being remodeled). They were not hesitant at all about expressing their faith, having the kids participate in a Shabbat service every Friday, and praying over meals in Hebrew. While my daughter at the time noted that she wanted to be Jewish because they had better holidays, she is firmly in the Christian camp today, but richer for her experience. My other daughter, on the other hand, experienced a preschool in a UM church that was overtly non-religious because they were afraid of being accused of proselytizing. There was a fear that being too Christian would offend someone, and so they didn’t try to help kids understand anything of our faith tradition at all. Of the two, I find that I still prefer the first approach.

    I didn’t get to attend, but the best example of interfaith experience was the meeting between Emerging Church leaders and Synagogue 2000, a group of “emerging” Jewish rabbis and leaders. They agreed to worship together, but with one group leading an overtly Jewish service, and the other an overtly Christian service. They didn’t apologize for who they were, rather they recognized that there were differences, but also recognized that there were places of commonality, as well as the possibility that they might learn from one another. Those who attended reported that the worship experiences were very special for both groups, and that much was learned by the experience.

    Why then are folks so afraid? Could it be that their own faith is so shallowly rooted that they are afraid that mere contact with another tradition will cause them to lose their faith?

  6. Gary L Lake Dillensnyder, OSL+ Avatar
    Gary L Lake Dillensnyder, OSL+

    yes! so be it. Amen

  7. Adam Estep Avatar
    Adam Estep

    Another very thought-provoking post. As I read it, I find myself torn. Part of me believes we can work together for the betterment of life here on this earth. Another part of me has found some of these efforts being a reason to remove that which makes us Christians.

    I participated in a conference trip to GBGM, and we spent some time at a local church who had also hosted a Jewish service as they had lost their synagogue and needed a place. At Christmas, the pastor of this church invited the Jewish community to their services on Christmas. This was a great thing! However, he then proceeded to avoid Christo-centric music. The Jewish attenders were the ones complaining about missing the Christian Christmas carols.

    I’m all for working together, but it cannot be at the expense of what makes us Christian. I’m not saying that is what you are stating here. It is just a caveat to the thought process.

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