Stealing Jesus: How Fundamentalism Betrays Christianity
Do movies like “The Passion” bring you to tears over the sacrifice Christ made? Do you wonder if what He stood for is represented by today’s Christianity? If you share these questions with me, Bruce Bawer’s book “Stealing Jesus” is worth reviewing.
Book Review - Stealing Jesus: How Fundamentalism Betrays Christianity
When engaging the world, Christians spend much of their time defending the culturally accepted view of Christianity. This act of engagement is very difficult in America, where the popular image of a Christian usually involves either a slimy televangelist or Ned Flanders, a character from the Simpsons who goes away for the weekend to a church camp to “learn how to be more judgmental.” Stereotypes can never capture the entire population of a complete body of data; however, the most common Christian stereotype is not centered around Christ’s predominant teachings of love, grace, mercy and forgiveness. For many, myself included, Christians who were experts at majoring on the minors became the evidence I needed to believe that Christ was not a historical figure; that His teachings were not the basis for the Christian faith as it has been lived in our culture. Such a struggle to equate the teachings of Christ with the lives of Christians is not unique: it is the topic of Bruce Bawer’s book Stealing Jesus: How Fundamentalism Betrays Christianity.
Bruce’s personal story and his deconstruction of fundamentalism are interwoven. He is a practicing Christian who identifies himself as a homosexual. Such a dichotomy is unacceptable to many Christians and as such, he has had to live with the challenge of viewing his sexual identity as that of a homosexual, but his spiritual identity as that of a Christian. Others, typically of the fundamentalist variety, denigrate his faith as a consequence of his admission to leading a homosexual lifestyle. I am thankful for people who are honest about their struggles. I am thankful for Bruce being honest about his, and about how he views his sexuality within the context of his faith.
As I read this book I wondered how many of the struggles Bruce has gone through were made worse because of dealing with fundamentalists. As someone who lost their faith completely for a period of time, I know the repulsion I felt towards fundamentalists engendered in me a profound distaste for anything spiritual. As I progressed in this book, it became obvious that Bruce and I would have important doctrinal differences; but even in these cases, I wonder if his denial of particular portions of historic Christian creeds is a part of a system of justification for other beliefs he holds. Bruce believes strongly in God, and his spiritual insights are wonderfully written, certainly meaningful for all. But have enough bad experiences with fundamentalism caused him to pick and choose his doctrine, allowing not only for important doctrinal mistakes, but for areas where he overlooks sin to accommodate his own predilections? Only he and God know whether his heart’s desire is to embrace God, as well as the moral implications that come with such an acceptance, or whether his denial of certain historic Christian precepts is based on reason and sincere skepticism.
For those who seek to build a bridge to others, even with those whom they profoundly disagree, I would suggest that Bruce’s honesty stands in stark contrast to the hypocrisy most of present when admitting to sins we struggle with. While Bruce offers no apology for his homosexuality (his book A Place at the Table discusses this topic), I still feel that much common ground can be shared with those who are honest about their identities, even those parts of their identity that others might disagree with. A recent Newsweek article talked about the struggle ministers are having with pornography. The most poignant part of the article for me was not that a minister could have such a struggle, but rather that the minister would be honest enough about his struggle to tell his family, friends and parishioners. Forgiveness is absolutely central to the Christian life; do we allow those who struggle, who question, who are seeking and perhaps even cynical to probe, to question, to disagree with us? Or are we so concerned with being right that we feel obligated to make a point? My fellow Christians, Bruce has something important to say. He says it in his book explicitly, but his life also says it. It is a life spent searching for truth, for absolution, for connection with his Creator. Let us allow God to be God and seek common ground by which we can show the world what being a Christian is.
But such an attitude is not common in Christian fundamentalism. The point in fundamentalism is rooted strongly in the Puritan faith - a faith that mandated being right above all else. As my good friend Rich Vincent has reminded me, “God does not love you because you are right.” Within the American fundamentalist movement, being right has become the reason for being active socially, culturally and politically. It is within such movements that Bruce contends Jesus is being stolen; it is here that fundamentalism is betraying Christianity.
No doubt for Bruce, the title of this book is more than pithy wordsmithing. For him it is a core belief upon which his faith is built - the belief that Christianity stands for more than externals - that it must produce meaningful changes of the heart. Because fundamentalism first focuses on the outside, Bruce rightly believes that the Christianity of today is not based on the real teaching of Jesus.
Bruce’s book does a superb job of drawing out the core beliefs of fundamentalists within American society. Bruce’s spiritual journey has taken him to beliefs I do not share: particularly his criticism of the inerrancy of Scripture (not the same as believing in the always literal interpretation of Scripture - something I also would disagree with). Bruce does not believe that Christ was part of the God-head. He believes that the life of the historical Christ was embellished by the disciples and that His resurrection was authored in an effort to communicate spiritual truth (the belief of being reborn in the remaking of heaven and earth) and to ensure that the Christian faith would have a fundamentally unique claim within the world’s religions. It is on these points that I disagree with Bruce, and for a quite simple reason.
For many evangelical Christians, the works of apologists like Lee Strobel, Norman Geisler and Gary Habermas are cited as evidence of the historicity and literal resurrection of Christ. These authors were critical in my own understanding of questions related to the historical claims Christians make on the identity of Christ; however, these items no longer occupy my mind as the primary apologetic for Christ being God. Having matured beyond a need to win an argument with someone who does not believe as I do, my belief is based on the absolute uniqueness of the character of Christ. In the thousands of years of religion before and after His time on earth, we have struggled to ever produce any disciples who could fully follow His teaching. Not only did Christ originate His teachings, but He lived them - paying the ultimate price. I can find men like Gandhi who acted on Christ’s original teaching that we not return evil for evil, but who struggle with their own lusts (a struggle I am glad to know men such as these also struggle with). Even if we were to assign to Gandhi complete purity, we would have to properly assign the source of his thinking to the original teachings of Christ. This again reinforces my view of the absolute uniqueness of the character of Christ.
A Struggle America Must Wage
I share with many a fear of the power religious leaders in America wield. It is with discomfort that I listen to certain preachers, evangelists and Christian spokesmen argue for a return to Judeo-Christian ethics in order to restore America’s predominance in the world (a ridiculous prima facia case as America stands today as the world’s only super-power). As any good child taught in Sunday school knows, Christ’s message to the world during His time on earth was to maximize political power and ensure a democratic way of life. Oh, wait. Christ’s message was of an earthly but spiritual kingdom that would be evidenced by suffering, sacrifice and love. And now that I think about it, it was precisely because He abdicated a political kingdom and sought a spiritual one based on grace, mercy, forgiveness and love that He was crucified. If the “person” I hold to be the God-man could settle for an earthly spiritual kingdom, why are certain of His followers so fixated on political solutions using temporal power?
Bruce shares my cynicism over the motives and factuality of the Religious Right’s claims of our country’s Christian past. He does a good introductory job of discussing the faiths of our founding fathers (much more diversity than some would have us believe). I think it reasonable to assume that if Christians wish to have the originations of America credited to them, they must also provide a reasonable explanation for why the Constitution does not claim that all men are equal; no, all white men are equal - black men have less value that does a white man, and women have no right to vote. To cry out that America must return to the values of the past is to look past the endemic problems within the original ideas postulated by our articles of political faith. Our founding fathers were incredible men, but it should not be necessary to make them Christians to be thankful for their gift to our way of life and system of government.
What is so important about identifying the source of America’s success to Christianity? For some, it would mean that they could argue more persuasively that Christianity is true if they can assign worldly results to other-worldly beliefs. For others, it is a way of looking into their childhoods, times when they were certainly more innocent and as a result, naively assume that so must the world have been. In their childhoods, they remember the structure religious’ values provided, and in a confusing world of pluralism and post-modernity, they cry out for what they believe has been lost since. Whether or not these religious values were imposed, merely acknowledged, or fully embraced is not understood by many of this persuasion.
Neither of these cases probably best explains what the primary reasoning is for those who seek to go back to the “old days.” For these people, such a desire is based on their knowledge that fundamentalism frightens away those they disagree with, making it easier for them to retain control. Even for people willing to engage in a potentially heated and contentious argument, dealing with fundamentalists can be frightening. It is not an accident that many totalitarian religious institutions and political bodies come to power quickly without resistance. Many times, those who oppose fundamentalists are so put off by their lack of logic and extremism that they believe such ideologies will burn themselves out. At times this can happen. History, however, is full of examples when fundamentalism has grown in intensity and consumed even the most moderate of objectors. Fundamentalism also allows for a high degree of control of those who stay within the institution of power. Fundamentalism is, and always has been, a device for letting people in power get what they want: power, control and homogenous populations (people that look, act and believe as “I” do).
Politics and religion are bad bed-fellows; politics and spirituality are much better. In the case of politics and religion, even the most unbiased viewer must admit that both are institutions. As such, they have structure and seek to preserve a certain social standing. Most organizations can not exist for long without becoming very concerned with the creation, control and dissemination of power. In the cases of religious institutions, the challenge of relevance is predominant. In a post-modern world, “issues” must be developed and made falsely important, because within these “issues” lies the potential for the organization to be socially and perhaps even politically relevant. It is highly unlikely that the interaction between religious institutions and political institutions can create anything more than weak religion and poor politics.
On the other hand, spirituality and politics can co-exist. Why? In spirituality, the ability to live with pluralism is much more likely. Religions are concerned with being right; spirituality can be much more gracious and loving. My own sense of spirituality does not allow for multiple “truths”, rather for the belief that God is working in each person’s heart and that His work will pull people to Him in a spiritual journey that may take them to places we have not had to go, addressing questions and problems I do not share. Similarly, spirituality believes that the ultimate outworking of love, grace and mercy in how we treat our fellow man is the point. Being “right” is only meaningful to the extent that it positively impacts our love for one another. To treat our fellow men equally, we must be willing to forego personal gain if it means others in need can have more. To believe in restoration as the ultimate outworking of punishment means that penal institutions change in their structure and purpose. Such changes show where spirituality can impact society in ways that are much more enriching and powerful than religion.
Fundamentalism is Enticing
My family and I will often reflect on my experiences growing up. It is not uncommon for my Dad to ask out loud “why did we stay there for so long?” His question is born of frustration at why we stayed for so long in a strictly sectarian church-school. I do not think the answer is so difficult, but because it is rooted in self-discovery, it can be painful to admit why.
Most people have a strong desire to have easy answers presented to them. Our media outlets, politicians and religious institutions are very happy to do this. It is not only the fault of these institutions; individually we must bear much of the responsibility to educate ourselves, to seek out answers to important questions on our own. This requires discipline, diligence and sacrifice of the type most people are unwilling to tolerate. Where ignorance is placated by being told how to think, the potential for propaganda and abuse is high. Religious fundamentalism in America is very guilty of this. Says Bawer, “Legalistic Christianity triumphed [in America], in short, not because it demanded more of believers but because, at the profoundest level, it demanded far less.” (page 139)
Even R.C. Sproul, a theologian who is doctrinally miles away from Bawer, says in his Ideas that Shaped Our World that we live in the most anti-intellectual age of Christianity ever. From Bawer’s book: “In their suspicion of the intellect and their categorical assertion that the Bible contains all truth, these kinds of Christianity reflect the American distrust of mind described by Richard Hofstadter in his book Anti-Intellectualism in American Life; indeed, they can be understood as ways of avoiding the obligation to think - and, especially, to think for oneself. As William Ray puts it, ‘fundamentalism demands believers, not thinkers.’” (page 
As a result of such reasoning, teachers like Hal Lindsay (The Late Great Planet Earth) are allowed to represent Christianity - a thought that saddens me. Bawer’s comment linking Lindsay to the anti-intellectualism within fundamentalism is right on: “Consistently, Lindsey pounds home the message that the important truths of life cannot be discovered through education, scientific experimentation, and objective critical analysis, but rather through predictions by seers who have demonstrated their premonitory prowess. Over and over again, Lindsey makes the point that people with fancy educations don’t know the things that really matter and that they are dangerous because they lead others astray.” (page 146) When I reflect on Bawer and Sproul’s words I am reminded of one of the most fundamental characteristics of every fascist and communist system of government: the extinction of intellectuals.
Bawer goes on to reflect on what about Lindsey’s teaching is so powerful: “To read Lindsey’s book is to be struck by how overwhelmed people can be by the world’s complexities, how terrified of their own mortality, how incapable of finding strength, solace, and sense in the realm of the spiritual, and how ready to accept notions of God and heaven that have nothing at all to do with a vertical dimension.” (page 151) Taken at face value, perhaps religion’s quest for power is not the only culprit to be blamed. We can also rightly say that our desire to be placated and to not struggle with complexity bears just as much responsibility in the domination of fundamentalism within American culture.
Any religious system or leader that tells people exactly what to think and does not share with them their own struggles, imperfections and spiritual journey is a system or leader that is not to be trusted. None of us have all the answers; none of us grasp all of the concepts required to know God fully. Fundamentalism wants to white-wash over these struggles and instead drive home conformity. Within conformity comes control, and control means power. A system of belief that cares so little for affairs of the heart, as well as questions of the mind, is a system of belief that is not worth having.
Conclusion
I agree with Bruce’s primary assertion that fundamentalism betrays the core of Christian belief. For me, the more I sit at the feet of teachers who have pondered the depths of the Trinity, or who dwell on the most profound of paradoxes within Christianity, the more comfortable I become with mystery. Fundamentalism does not allow for mystery, and is frustrated by paradox. I can not look at the profound concept of the Trinity without recognizing that the actual truth and knowledge of the Trinity is outside my reality. When I reached this point in my own journey, it became obvious to me that I must go back to what Christ was clear about. As I reflect on what Christ clearly taught I came back to the centrality of love and the essential truths - not of His deity - but of grace, mercy, forgiveness and humility. A Christianity that is not known for these things has, as Bawer eloquently states, “stolen Jesus.”
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4 Responses to “Stealing Jesus: How Fundamentalism Betrays Christianity”
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May 12th, 2004 at 12:56 am
I enjoyed your comment: “Any religious system or leader that tells people exactly what to think and does not share with them their own struggles, imperfections and spiritual journey is a system or leader that is not to be trusted.”
I find it fascinating that in practice, many Christians find their spiritual guidance via “Believeth in a Man” to provide their answers, rather than a more direct and personal “Believeth in Him”.
Could this be what determines a trustworthy Shepard of Faith?
May 13th, 2004 at 11:32 am
Maxxximus - I think you are pointing out a fundamental struggle within any life of faith. Enormous tension exists between our desire to have something tangible to believe in (the desire for our “faith” to be “rational”) with our acknowledgement that the essence of spirituality is faith and that faith is both irrational and impersonal. It is straining to seek a personal relationship with a diety we can not touch and tangibly interact with on this earth. From this tension comes our reasonable (dare I say “rational”?) desire to put our faith into a more tangible container; for most of us this container is a person, for others it is an idea - the cult of personality that surrounds many leaders within and without Christianity. This human vessel we look to as reassurance of our faith is why leaders within the community of faith are called to such a high standard; it is also the most devilish of double edged swords because the more rationally minded people in our culture view the failings of spiritual leaders as signs of the inadequacy of spirituality and hence, the life of faith.
August 4th, 2004 at 11:54 am
Bawer’s book put in clear language the struggles I have with fundamental, or even what passes today as mainstream, Christianity.
The seminal passage discusses the pharisee’s query to Jesus of what the most important commandment is, and the following parable of the good Samaritan. Jesus’ answer to the pharisees, that the most important commandment is “to love thy God with all thy heart and all thy soul, and love thy neighbor as thyself,” is now how I gauge my own behavior: Is it consistent with love of God and love of neighbor?
And the parable of the Samaritan, as beautifully interpreted by Bawer, provides a means of accepting others without judging, in fact accepting others while trying my best to love them and learn from them. Freedom from judgment is something I’m experiencing anew, and growing in, since reading “Stealing Jesus”.
Bawer’s book is a tool through which the love of Christ shines a bit more brightly, and is clearly a work of putting the Lord’s prayer into action, bringing God’s kingdom here to earth.
August 4th, 2004 at 5:47 pm
Doug - Thanks a lot for your comment. You are right. The more I study theology - specifically my recent studies on comparative religions / pluralism - the more I am convinced that we are called to live a certain way, not believe a certain thing. Didn’t Paul say that himself when he said, “faith, love and hope; but the greatest of these is love.” I’ve spent enough of my young life focusing on the right things to have faith in, and the right hope for eternity, and not the centrality of love.