I know someone who loves to talk about what she believes when it comes to her faith structure. She loves talking about it so much that something flips in her brain, and she suddenly becomes unaware of the other to whom she is speaking. She instead begins to recite everything (and I mean everything) that she believes as it relates to her theology. The conversation abruptly shifts from a dialogue to a monologue. She can go on for literally ninety minutes exhibiting no interest in any other point of view or awareness of not-so-subtle social cues indicating that the other is praying that the “conversation” will come to an end. It is a verbal pummeling with the hope that the other will submit and adopt her version of what is true.
On occasion she will excitedly share that she had run into a fellow “believer” out in public. I find the term “believer” confusing and enlightening in this context. It is clear to me that for my friend, what is of absolute importance is one’s belief (surpassed in importance only by the “right” belief). I have been tempted to ask of her new acquaintance, “What exactly do they believe in?” But I don’t have ninety minutes to spare.
I suppose that we are all believers in that we have a personal understanding how the world and God work. Some of us cling to those beliefs much more strongly than others. Some of us are invigorated by the opportunity to alter our beliefs, excited to expand our view of how this life (and perhaps the next) might work. Others of us, for a variety of reasons, simply cannot entertain the possibility of our beliefs being anything but perfectly correct and true for everyone.
Another friend of mine stated a few years ago with a high degree of agitation, “I can’t stand it when people say they aren’t religious but are spiritual. I have no idea what that means.” He comes from a perspective that is quite conservative and traditional. Had we had more time (and more wine) I would have offered a retort along the lines of, “I hate it when people say they are Christians, I have no idea what that means.” Distinctions matter.
If you don’t believe me, just go to the paint store, and ask for some blue paint. You will quickly find that there are more than sixty-seven shades and hues of blue. To get to the color you are really looking for requires distinctions. So it is with the word, Christian (and most others). I now often ask those who self-report as being Christian, “What exactly does that mean to you?” That usually changes the conversation.
Philip Gulley in his book The Evolution of Faith cites the work of Harvey Cox in The Future of Faith when describing three distinct eras of church history. The first era includes the first three hundred years of the Christian movement. This era was characterized by a countercultural commitment to the ethos of Jesus. These early Christians were passionate for the priorities of Jesus, his regard for the outsiders, and commitment to peace.
The second era is referred to as the Age of Belief. This era stretched from the fourth century to the mid-twentieth century. It focused more on orthodoxy, dogma, and doctrine and less on believing the right things about Jesus. Christianity gained political power at the expense of the radical nature of Jesus' message.
The third era is the Age of the Spirit and has been unfolding for the past fifty years. It moves from dogma and formal religion to the integration of diverse religious expressions and spirituality. Christianity is no longer the only game in town. As Gulley points out, those who believe that Christianity is primarily about worshipping Jesus will see this age as rife with heresy. For those who see Christianity primarily as following the example of Jesus, they will find energy and meaning in diverse traditions. They will explore how others experience God and come to deepen their own understanding of God, the world, and other humans. They will profess less and listen more. They will create community and act on compassion.
So, here we are in the Age of the Spirit. How then are we to best navigate this era? I don’t know all the research in detail, but I know from experience that the odds of arguing someone into a different belief are low. On the other hand, I have seen connections that are no less than miraculous when two people share with one another why what they believe to be true is important to them. Conversations that are focused on convincing others of what they should believe to be true are nothing short of violent. Instead, tell me what you believe to be true and why you must believe that it is so. Let’s have a conversation as two humans who are trying the best that we can to make sense of the world, our lives, and the cosmos.
These are the conversations that will deepen our spiritual journey. These are the conversations that will challenge us to put words to what we believe and why it matters to us. These are the conversations that force us to draw important distinctions and avoid assumed meanings of the words that we use. Let’s engage with one another celebrating our shared experience of being human.
Martin Buber spoke of this vision…
“Human life and humanity come into being in genuine encounters. The hope for this hour depends upon the renewal of the immediacy of dialogue among human beings.”
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