Liberating Theology: God Among Us
How do you go about studying your faith - or is that something you even do? Do you have a favorite blog that you read each day to encourage you, to help you stay focused on scripture and faith? Do you follow a FaceBook or Twitter account from a beloved pastor, a respected ministry, a prophetic teacher? Are you drawn to reading some of the “old chestnuts” like C.S. Lewis, A.W. Tozer, or a daily selection from “My Utmost for His Highest” by Oswald Chambers? Are you someone who likes to study from Beth Moore, or other authors of modern bible studies? Or are you someone who believes that the Bible is the “one and only” place to find God’s truth?
I don’t think reading from books outside of the Bible is a bad thing; in fact, it can be an important way to learn more, not only about faith and God, but more about ourselves. Personally, I’m drawn to reading from the mystics, folks like St. Francis, John of the Cross, Teresa of Avila, Julian of Norwich- and the more modern mystic,Thomas Merton. I appreciate their peace-filled soul searching, their focus on experiencing God in prayer, their devotion to Jesus and his revelations of the Father’s love.
Of course, the only “required reading” for Christians is the Bible, but Christian bookstores and on-line venues offer thousands of options to help us explore our journey, to provide us with new perspectives, new ways of looking at our Christian mission, purpose, life.
In my own online reading, I often come across selections from learned theologians, writings that sometimes are so deep and complex, they make my brain hurt. I’ll sometimes stop and spend some time diving in, trying to discern what the writer is saying, what thoughts the author is trying to convey. Sometimes, the very words themselves fail to communicate and I spend more time looking up words than understanding the point of the discourse, and soon find myself confused, my mind tied-up in knots of conjecture, allegory, philosophy, and theology. Inevitably, I’m left wondering: why do we seek to make what should be simple so complex? And what causes some of us to run after the complex, to seek out the abstract in what should be straightforward? Do we think the Gospel is simplistic? Not complex enough? Do we feel the need to “add to” the gospel message of Jesus? Do we find the Gospel somehow lacking?
If so, I think that we simply don’t understand the Gospel. We aren’t “getting it”.
I’d like to propose something a bit different, a liberating of theology from the hallowed halls of cathedrals and theology departments in universities, and bringing it into the dirty streets of our lives: the barren places of the earth, the broken relationships, the shattered hearts, the diseased bodies of our hurting world. How can I take the learned words of university professors, of popes, bishops, canons, priests, pastors, religious leaders and teachers.... how can I take their thoughts and concepts and propositions, and convert them to a theology that I can touch and feel and taste? a theology that will change my heart? change the world? After all - that’s what Jesus did. He liberated theology from a constrained paradigm of laws, and brought it into sharp focus for the masses to see, to feel, to experience. Jesus liberated theology, and set it loose among the rabble, among the lost and hurting souls of his day. And left a world forever changed.
I think we need to look at Jesus- really look. at. Jesus. Jesus did not stay in the synagogue. He did not hang out with the power brokers of his day, nor did he remain set apart to discuss the philosophical questions bandied about by the learned rabbis of his time. Jesus liberated theology from the synagogues, and brought it to the dusty streets of Galilee and Samaria. His words were always loving, practical, applicable to the Pharisee, the farmer and the prostitute alike; to the tax collector, the Samaritan, the widow, the orphan. He preached to the crowds, yes; but his words were always accompanied by action- sometimes feeding 5000, but sometimes healing one madman in a neighboring city; one sick child, one hemorrhaging woman, one paralytic dropped at his feet.
He prayed with his followers and taught them how to speak intimately with his Father, showing them the great love of the Father - both given and received. He touched people - physically touched people… women, children, lepers - even the dead. He didn’t care about social mores or protocols. He did what was necessary to show people His Father’s love. He ate with them, laughed with them, shared a glass of wine with them. He lived his theology, breathed his theology, and eventually died for his theology - which was simply this: God loves us unconditionally, and sacrificed his only son to bring us back to him. And because of God’s love, we are to love others unconditionally as well. Jesus theology was short and sweet, but deep, profound and life-changing, and continues to resonate in the streets of our broken world to this day.
Jesus showed us how to stoop low to the one who needed what he could give, and then how to reach up high to touch the robe of a loving Father in prayer and love. In his words, in his walk, in his actions, we have all the theology we need.
Jesus understood how to reach people, how to show them the deep and visceral love of his Father that knew no social, racial, gender or economic boundaries: the sinner, the madman, the leper - they were his groupies, his beloved brothers and sisters. He understood the pain of isolation, of poverty, of hunger and want. He walked among the people and touched them, fed them, breathed life into them. He liberated the dry and dusty theology of his day and showed us how to make it a living, breathing reality of healing, peace and love.
There is nothing wrong with seeking out new ways of thinking about God, about our world and His love. Theology - the very study of God - will always be relevant; but it is most relevant when our theology is one that has been liberated from the golden altars of our churches, and lived out in the mud and muck of our broken lives.