Does our theology make space for those different from us or does it necessitate the exclusion of the “other?” Do our theological discussions require us to accept the terms of one party over another?
After almost a decade in the academy and many more in the church, I fear the answer to the former question is “no” and the latter is “yes.”
I’ve written elsewhere about my experience in both these spaces as an Indian adoptee, but the response to my latest column in Sojourners on what I’ve learned from my LGBTQ peers led me to revisit some of these questions.
Ironically (but even more so, sadly) those who disagreed with my piece appealed to “clear biblical teaching” or “God’s truth” with a false assumption that I name directly in the piece: that queer folk are not an abstract, non-Christian “other;” they are in our sanctuaries and pews worshiping alongside us, participating in the Eucharist with us, and striving after a faithful pursuit of Jesus Christ.
More importantly, however, was not a single question present in any of these critiques. Only accusations.
In reflection this past week, I’ve wondered how I’d respond if someone did reply with genuine questions rather than accusations and disapproval? Does my theology make space for questions from those who disagree with me? Am I forcing my conversation partners to speak on my terms rather than seek to understand them on their terms?
Rather than a hospitable access point to Christian faith where we might collectively question and attempt to untangle the messiness of life, too often today theology is a tool to position ourselves in various corners of society. Rather than bringing our voices to a shared table, we white-knuckle our perspectives and argue about who has the more correct theological beliefs. Theology becomes a tool to pit ourselves against one another, not bear witness to our common Lord.
To be sure, these questions of Christian and public life are deeply theological. They are not esoteric questions left for the academy. They concern our daily life that is lived out in particular places and within specific communities. To ask these questions of one’s theology is to ask a question about one’s very life and the way we interact with one another as humans, citizens, and fellow image-bearers.
To those with genuine theological questions about these divisive topics like gender and sexuality that are not strategic or aimed towards a certain end, my response would simply be to question with me the kind of theological spaces we are creating. Who is welcomed at these tables? How do we speak to one another in these spaces? In a world already so divisively tribalistic, are we known by our love or by our exclusivity? Will we value our common life together over doctrinal specificity? Will we, no matter the cost, affirm the humanity and dignity of all people despite our disagreements?
Will we, like Jesus’ invitation to Thomas, make space for the other?
But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.” A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” - John 20
In closing, I will repeat a lesson contained in my Sojourners essay: the tent is wide.
To those who argue for a univocal interpretation and practice of the Christian faith, embracing and celebrating tacit difference as a gift from God may sound like a compromise of our faith. But as philosopher James K.A. Smith argues in How to Inhabit Time, we will always find our faith conditioned by the world around us because we are temporal and historically situated beings. This is why we must remain in community and proximity: so that diverse expressions of the same faith might collectively point toward the God to whom all bear witness. When liberation and borderland theologies meet mestizaje and queer theologies, our understanding of God becomes exponentially greater than any single interpretation can offer alone. It is in this meeting that we find openings and opportunities for greater neighbor love, social action, and resolution to the dissonance of hatred and violence in our world.
Reading:
Freeing Congregational Mission - B. Hunter Farrell (IVP, 2022)
How To Inhabit Time - James K. A. Smith
“LGBTQ in the CRC: A reflection on this week's Synod decision” - Kristin Kobes DuMez
Watching:
My Next Guest with David Letterman (Netflix)
A Quiet Place II (Amazon Prime)
Listening:
Playlist — Heat Of The Summer (2022 Edition)