God is in this Place?

The movement of the Spirit that is stirring moderate and progressive congregations, whether they have historically identified themselves with evangelical or mainline Protestantism, is taking form as emergent and missional communities of faith. These terms denote the reality that empowered and guided by the Holy Spirit, parts of the church are bursting through old boundaries, emerging from their shells so that they might engage in world transforming ministries. As this happens, these communities are looking again at their core identities and practices, to discern whether they can support this new work of the Spirit, so that both church and society might be transformed.

As the church adapts and moves forward, it will need to stop and engage in acts of introspection. In the course of this work of self-study, the church might be well-served by considering what the stranger might see in our communities? Consider what the person, who doesn’t know much if anything about the God church folk claim to worship, sees and hears if they should walk into the typical mainline Protestant church. Will they feel welcome and safe? Or, will they find the culture and the environment of the church to be foreign and strange? Beyond the person who has little exposure to the church’s theology and practices, we might consider other persons who venture into the community. There are any number of boundary issues that need to be considered -- gender, age, ethnicity, language, socio-economic, and cultural differences that impact one’s experience of God and the church.

When the stranger enters the community of faith, does what they hear and see suggest that the denizens of the church are, in the words of Paul, “out of your mind?” Or, do they hear and experience a message that discloses the secrets of their hearts, so that in response to their encounter in this place they fall before God in worship? Or to put it a bit differently, is it possible, that the stranger might enter into the church and declare: God is in this place (1 Corinthians 14:20-25). For many progressive/mainline churches this might seem like an odd expectation, but why is that? Why can’t we expect God’s Spirit to move in such a way that lives are changed dramatically due to their encounter with God?

This is the question that haunts the church in an age of wars and rumors of wars, an age of hate speech, drive-by shootings, growing intolerance, terrorism, bombings, and kidnappings. How do we bear witness to God’s grace and love and presence in this context? The questions become even more daunting because religious people seem to be stirring up much of the heat, while more moderate and progressive voices seem to get lost in the shuffle. Indeed, the news that is heard from pulpit and pew isn’t always good. Whether it’s “fire and brimstone” or bewailing lost influence, it often seems as if the church has lost sight of its mission. And yet the church possesses good news. This is news that if it is shared will resonate with the hearts of people who face such a wearying barrage of negativity. There are people out there, some who will enter and some who will never enter – at least not without a gentle invitation – into our houses of worship, who are looking for words of hope and peace. They want to worship a God who will open up the secrets of their hearts so that might find in God a source of healing grace. And so the question remains, if the stranger walks into the church what will she or he find? What will it take for them to say: God is in this place?

Excerpted from The Gifts of Love (unpublished mss.)

Toward a Hopeful Future -- Review

TOWARD A HOPEFUL FUTURE: Why the Emergent Church is Good News for Mainline Congregations. By Phil Snider and Emily Bowen. Cleveland: Pilgrim Press, 2010. X +290 pages.

Emergent, emerging, postmodern – these are all terms that are bandied about in certain circles, but they may not carry meaning for many people in Mainline Protestant circles. This is unfortunate because many of those who fit under these rather loose labels share much in common with Mainliners. A majority of emergent and emerging Christians are evangelicals or post-evangelicals who share with progressive Christians concerns for social justice and societal transformation. They’re concerned about poverty, the environment, and whether or not they believe in an inerrant bible, they’re more concerned about living out the faith than defending it.

It is true that there are many definitions of what it means to be emergent, emerging, post-evangelical, or postmodern. But what these definitions share in common is a growing dissatisfaction with the status quo. The Enlightenment has made its mark, but it has left many with a sense of great emptiness. Church growth, seeker services, mega-churches, conservative politics, have had an unsettling impact on many of these mostly younger Christians. They have much in common with Mainline Protestants, but they are also disenchanted with what they perceive to be a hidebound institutionalism and rationalism. And yet, with the right bridge builders, the two groups could come together, providing a natural home for Emergents and hope for the Mainline. At least, that is the belief shared by Phil Snider and Emily Bowen, two Disciples of Christ pastors who have embraced the Emergent movement and want to introduce skeptical and suspicious Mainliners to this movement.

The emergent church movement is rather diverse, though it is often linked to such people as Tony Jones, Doug Pagitt, Brian McLaren, and Rob Bell (with a nod to the much more conservative Mark Driscoll). Jones and Pagitt have, for their part, been key leaders in a movement that continually challenges the status quo in both evangelical and Mainline communities. McLaren has made a name for himself by trying to define what he calls a generous orthodoxy. All of these figures, with the exception of Driscoll, can be called post-evangelicals. I personally resonate with this group because I am myself a post-evangelical, though I began my journey outward from evangelicalism before I ever heard of any of these figures. Like them I found the evangelicalism of my earlier years to be too constrictive both theologically and socially. One of the reasons why this group needs an introduction to Mainliners is that many in the Mainline community are suspicious of evangelicals. I experienced this reality, being that I was a graduate of Fuller Seminary. Fortunately this has long since dissipated. Still, the bridge that Snider and Bowen seek to build between progressives and Emergents should prove beneficial to the Mainline Church.

The book begins by offering introductions and definitions. The authors point to several definitions, including that of Tony Jones, the former national coordinator of Emergent Village, who defines the Emergent movement as essentially a friendship or network of missional Christians. He notes that Scot McKnight, a friendly observer of things Emergent, suggests that emerging churches are prophetic, postmodern, praxis-oriented, post-evangelical, and political (that is, they are generally politically liberal evangelicals). Others would point to worship styles that seek to be both ancient and modern. There are in fact a wide variety of emergent types, which range from extremely conservative to relatively liberal. So, any definition is going to rely on adjectives. The version of the emergent church that Snider and Bowen link into is one that is open to progressive understandings. It’s one that seeks to listen for postmodern voices, is committed to social justice, is progressive in theology and expression. Snider and Bowen are attracted to the emergent perspective because it is organic and grass roots. It allows for freedom and nuance. Of course, being progressive Mainliners, the authors are very aware that most of the emergent voices are white and male. Of course, the charge of whiteness can be laid at the feet of most mainline Protestant churches.

The book is divided into three parts – Emergent Background, Emergent Ethos, and Emerging Worship. Through these three sections the authors introduce mainline progressives to the emergent movement and offer suggestions as to how this movement can enhance and empower and give hope to mainline churches. They do a good job of telling stories of people who have felt disenfranchised by both evangelicalism and Mainline Protestantism, suggesting that this movement can provide resources to transcend these difficulties. In part two the sections on justice and hospitality should prove especially helpful.

The final section deals with worship, which seems to be an ongoing point of dispute and discussion within mainline churches. Evangelicals may be conservative in their theology, but many of them have come to terms with the realities of style and technology much quicker than Mainliners. The “ancient-future” worship style that predominates among Emergents might offer some help in adapting to the needs and concerns of new generations of people who don’t connect with the traditional worship styles found in many Mainline Churches. That being said, the authors make it clear that they’re not simply adding one more voice to those that claim that simply adopting contemporary praise services will bring in hordes of young people. Snider and Bowen write:

Emerging forms of worship are much more concerned with grounding worship experiences that reflect specific contexts and theological convictions than they are with any specific style. (pp. 139-140).

That is, the question isn’t whether we should have old hymns or praise songs, organs or guitars, debates that have colored the so-called worship wars. But, the authors remind us that younger adults are more visual and kinesthetic in their orientation to worship. This is why many forms of emergent worship include candles and icons. In reaction to the seeker movement that removed Christian symbols from the worship space, Emergents have not only brought back the cross, but other visual forms – including icons that derive from the Eastern Church. Technology helps in all of this, but isn’t essential or normative.

In terms of worship, the authors make it clear that language, especially regarding gender, is important. They note the problem that exists in Mainline and Evangelical (including Emergent Churches) congregations is that the language is exclusive and patriarchal. For progressives there is the problem of hymns and songs that don’t fit their theology. This is especially true in relationship to references to the atonement and patriarchal references to God. Here is their set of guidelines relating to their choices in music at their emergent service:

[W]e hold fast to progressive approaches in general by making sure the music is grounded in nonviolence, justice, hospitality, and mutuality, and we try our best not to lose sight of the mystery and wonder of God. Like emergents in general, we focus on music that is neither highly individualistic nor concerned with pie in the sky. In short, we try to make sure that every element of the liturgy – especially our music – reflects the theology held dear by progressives and emergents so that they can joyfully sing their faith without sensing a bunch of disconnects in the process. More than anything else, it is the music that stays with the people, it is music that seeps into their bones and reimagines their world. (p. 172).

In two appendices, the authors offer more guidelines and examples of how one might construct an emergent worship experience. Being that they are Disciples of Christ, they place the celebration of the Lord’s Supper at the center of this worship, and they make a point of the fact that Disciples do not limit the celebration of the Eucharist to clergy.

Bowen and Snider have written an important introduction to emergent Christianity for progessive Mainliners. They create a bridge that will help the skeptical or suspicions deal with qualms and questions. The emergent movement isn’t a perfect vehicle, but it does offer hope to the mainline church with its deemphasis on institution and structure, while emphasizing tradition, justice, scripture, hospitality, and adaptability. The emergent movement isn’t the end all for mainline renewal; any more than was true of the seeker movement or the megachurch movement. The danger here is that a tradition that is experiencing both decline and an inability to reach younger generations will simply jump headfirst without truly understanding the ramifications. The reality is that even if the emergent movement offers a word of hope, each church will have to adapt itself in a way that is authentic to its own context and history. That being said, this book, and this movement, does offer a pointer toward a hopeful future.

A Good Enough Theology -- Claiming our Divine Image (Bruce Epperly)

Over the past several weeks, Bruce Epperly has been laying out what he calls a "Good Enough Theology."  In the course of this journey, he has lifted up the contributions of the Quakers, Pentecostals, Evangelicals, and even Fundamentalists to what is at its essence a progressive or liberal theology.  It could even be described as one attempt at laying out a formula for a Big Tent Christianity.  In this piece that looks at the idea of the divine image that marks human life, and the goodness that defines the universe itself, Bruce brings this brief journey to an end.  He promises to be back soon with a conversation engaging the Book of Acts, so keep looking for his reappearance on the Tuesday time slot!

****************************************

A Good Enough Theology –

Claiming our Divine Image

Bruce G. Epperly

A good enough theology proclaims the essential goodness, or wholeness, of humankind and the created universe. Genesis 1 proclaims that the universe, including humankind, is basically good. Humans are created in the divine image, a reality that embraces both male and female. While there is no one definition of the divine image, theologians have pondered the uniqueness of humankind in terms of imagination, creativity, love, and holy relatedness. In any event, a holistic theology proclaims that goodness rather than sin is “original” to our nature. John’s gospel continues this affirmation, proclaiming that the all things come into being through the word and wisdom of God and that God’s true light enlightens all humankind.

God is constantly moving in our lives in “sighs too deep for words,” giving us guidance and inspiration even when we have gone astray. Nothing can separate us from the love of God, even our personal and corporate waywardness. Even in our waywardness, there is a godwardness: it is always possible that we can become a “new creation,” that is, awaken to God’s presence in our lives. We may forget about God, but deep down there is always a movement of grace within our lives and encounters. Quakers have called this reality the “inner light.” Other Christians have called it the “image of God.” Still, others speak of it as God’s “initial aim,” or gift of possibility and energy that gives birth to each moment of our lives.

The Eastern Orthodox tradition uses the term “theosis” or “divinization” to describe the essential holiness of our lives. Athanasius of Alexandria wrote that “God became human so that the human might become god.” While Athanasius did not mean that humans were gods or equal to Christ in nature, he did mean that as a result of the interplay of divine inspiration and human spiritual practice, humans could experience a spiritual unity with the divine, what I call “lived omnipresence.” We can become, as Plato said in the Timaeus, as like to the divine as possible given our finite existence. Two thousand years later, John Wesley spoke of sanctification or growing in grace and alignment with God’s presence and will for our lives. For Wesley, as for Irenaeus centuries before, “the glory of God was a person fully alive.”

A healthy theological diet begins and ends with the goodness of life and human existence. We are beloved by God and, despite our waywardness, always connected with God. A fully alive person is one who has grown, in the words of Luke’s gospel, “in wisdom and stature.” In other traditions, such a person is described as a “bodhisattva” or “mahatma,” a great spirited person who seeks to bring wholeness and spiritual healing or enlightenment to human beings. Martin Luther describes such a person a “little Christ,” whose relationship with God flows through her or him to bring blessings and grace to others.

Good progressive theology takes our essential goodness and future possibility seriously. We are always worthy of love and always God’s beloved children. God wants us – all of us - to have abundant life at every stage of our being. A healthy theology does not minimize sin, but places sin in the context of God’s enduring and inspiring love. Healthy theology proclaims “you are my beloved child” and not “I am not worthy.”

Aware of our essential goodness and God’s everlasting love, we can take sin seriously while truly loving ourselves and others in our imperfection. Inspired by God’s love, we can accept God’s grace, practice spiritualities of transformation, and share God’s grace with others.

Bruce Epperly is a seminary professor and administrator at Lancaster Theological Seminary, pastor, theologian, and spiritual companion. He is the author of seventeen books, including Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, a response to Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life. His Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Katherine Gould Epperly, was selected 2009 Book of the Year by the Academy of Parish Clergy.  His most recent book is From a Mustard Seed: Enlivening Worship and Music in the Small Church, written with Daryl Hollinger.

A GOOD ENOUGH THEOLOGICAL DIET: Silence, Vision, and Action (Bruce Epperly)

Having stated in last week's post the need for a "good enough theology," Bruce Epperly begins today what will be a series of posts that offer a sense of what that might look like.  This week he looks to the Quakers for guidance, and in future posts will explore the contributions of evangelicals, Pentecostals, and others.  It should be a most enlightening series.  After you read Bruce's ponderings, I invite you to join in the conversation. 

***********************************************

A GOOD ENOUGH THEOLOGICAL DIET:

SILENCE, VISION, AND ACTION

“Polydox in character, a good theology makes room for many theological possibilities and discovers wisdom in a variety of theological perspectives – the embodied and dynamic theology of process thought; the intimacy of evangelical theology; the open-endedness of liberalism; the liveliness of Pentecostalism; the non-violence of mimetic, Quaker, and Anabaptist theologies; the stability of fundamentalism; the unrest and challenge of liberation theology; the diverse wisdoms of womanist, feminist, and indigenous theologies; the incarnational spirit of Orthodox Christian theologies; the sacramental character of Catholic theologies; the wild adventurousness of Celtic theology; and the fiery spirit of mystical theology…and more. All these are part of a good enough theological diet.”  (Bruce Epperly, “A Good Enough Theology,” in Ponderings on a Faith Journey, August 10, 2010).

Last week, I asserted that a good enough theology requires a balance of many perspectives.

Just as a good diet requires different food groups, healthy theology requires varied foods for the spirit. A healthy theological diet has what Bernard Loomer described as “size,” it embraces diversity around an evolving center. In the weeks ahead, I will explore different aspects of a healthy theological diet, recognizing that no one perspective is all inclusive. While I believe that process theology provides the most holistic and inclusive basis for a healthy moderate and progressive theological perspective, I recognize that there are other perspectives that shape the theological journey.

Today, I will reflect on the integration of silence, vision, and action, characteristic of the Quakers or Friends. My words will be evocative and practical, rather than scholarly. I will be relating how Quaker spirituality and theology has shaped my journey and belongs in good enough theological diet.

When someone from a liturgical church asks me what happens in a Quaker meeting, I often humorously reply, “nothing.” We sit around a circle in chairs, we listen for God’s voice, and now and again, someone stands up and shares words that they feel have emerged in the silence. Quakers remind us that God speaks in a still, small voice – that God’s Spirit intercedes for us in sighs too deep for words. God’s Spirit intercedes and speaks within, however, all of us, not an elect or chosen few. Within every life shines an inner light, the light that John’s gospel describes – the light that created the universe and enlivens each person. We live in a God-filled, God-inspired universe, in which the least likely – the vulnerable, outcast, youthful, or physically or mentally challenged, reveal God’s presence.

Now, that’s a big vision: God is present in everyone’s life. There is a democracy of revelation that embraces both slave and master, outlaw and law abiding-citizen , alien and resident , poor and wealthy. This big vision leads to big political and cultural consequences: if God is present in every life, then every life is precious and deserves justice and fairness – this affirmation included in early Quaker history, African slaves and First Americans. Slavery and genocide are “heresies” because they deny God’s image in our brothers and sisters. (Later, Bishop Desmond Tutu was to call apartheid a heresy for the same reason.) Deep down, we are “friends” of everyone, recognizing the divinity in others is at the heart of the Christian journey.

Vision leads to action, and so does contemplation. In many progressive and moderate churches, contemplation and action, and spirituality and justice are placed in opposition. You can’t do both – social action is combative and disturbs our spiritual equanimity; spirituality is naval gazing that turns us away from justice and equality. The Quakers saw contemplation and action as interdependent, complementary, and requiring one another. Without contemplation, activism polarizes, repeats the sins of the oppressors, and leads to personal burn out. Without action, contemplation becomes “so heavenly minded that it’s no earthly good.”

In this brief reflection, I hope that you have gotten a first course in a good enough theology – we need a spiritual vision – a vision of God’s omnipresent care, revealed in each creature; we discover that vision by taking time for silence that awakens us to the divine light in ourselves and others; we complete circle by visionary action aimed at enabling all persons, indeed, all creatures, to have the opportunity to experience God’s inner light as their deepest reality.

This first course can be preached, prayed, and practiced, and be part of a balanced theological diet.

Bruce Epperly is a seminary professor and administrator at Lancaster Theological Seminary, pastor, theologian, and spiritual companion. He is the author of seventeen books, including Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, a response to Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life. His Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Katherine Gould Epperly, was selected Book of the Year by the Academy of Parish Clergy.  His most recent book is From a Mustard Seed: Enlivening Worship and Music in the Small Church, written with Daryl Hollinger.

God and the Good Life (Dwight Welch)

Dwight Welch, an M.Div. student at Christian Theological Seminary and candidate for ministry with the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), returns today with a progressive theological reflection on the relationship of God and the good in life.  His premise is simple:  we will find God present in the good things of life.  In writing this, Dwight engages with Bruce Epperly, my regular Tuesday columnist.  It's great to have Dwight back, contributing to the conversation of the relationship of theology to the lived life!

**********************************

God and the Good in Life

By Dwight Welch

At the church where I work, my senior pastor will ask the 4th through 6th grade youth group, where God was at during the past week. If it is like most weeks, these kids will not be thinking about God in terms of any sort of dramatic experience. Rather they are being asked to consider where God was when they were on the playground, studying for a test, on the bus ride home, playing with friends, and so on. That is, they are being asked to consider God in the everyday goings-on of life.

The supposition behind such a question is that God is a pervasive feature of reality that can be found in any number of occasions and contexts. In that, Bruce Epperly’s statement that “God is present in every moment of life” is something I would like to build upon. Instead of an interventionist deity who breaks the laws of nature every once in a while or a deistic absentee landlord, we’re asked to consider a God who is part and parcel of our reality. Of course God is not to be confused with just reality. Otherwise there would be no point to asking the question; no discernment to be had.

But rather God is to be identified with that reality which works towards wholeness, well being, just relations, and transformation of our reality towards a better reality. That is, God is identified with whatever is good in life. This suggests something which in varying degrees is accessible to all. The young Disciples group could be asked to consider God in their life because they all experience the good in life in various ways, which they are in a position to reflect upon.

In so doing any number of modes of inquiry would be needed. The reflective processes of these youth are one mode. The resources the Christian tradition has had in terms of practices, worship, and thought is another. But I want to agree with Bruce Epperly and other progressives that the resources other religious traditions will be key as well. And there are other disciplines which will be relevant; the sciences, economics, sociology, philosophy, and so forth. The traffic between these modes and how they interrelate I don’t think can be avoided long in the church. That concern informed how I sought to relate to miracles.

To agree also with Gordon Kaufman, a turning towards the good in life, metanoia, will not be the result of some single act, it will be the result of any number of conditions, some individual, some material and social that can act in ways which humanize our existence, move us towards other regard, and relate us to each other and the world in more life building ways. That will take the combined work of any number of agencies, all of which can be understood as divine when pointed to a salvific end.

In such an account, God can be related to any number of practices and traditions, but the ones which will potently connect us are those that have grounding in our experience, in the communities where we live, and validated by a range of disciplines, focusing on whatever achievements we have had in relating well to the world and to each other. Therefore, to see God in the doctors working for a cure is not a grudging acceptance of the mundane while the real religious concern is in the unknown. Rather we should most likely find God in what has been gained through the increase of knowledge of the world for the purposes of securing a better life for all.

Dwight Welch is finishing his final year at Christian Theological Seminary in Indianapolis as a MDiv student with the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).  He also serves as a student pastor at First Christian in Sheridan Indiana. Previously Dwight did graduate work in philosophy while serving as a campus minister at University Christian Ministries at Southern Illinois University.

Miracles and Progressive Christianity -- (Dwight Welch)

I have invited Dwight Welch, a Disciples of Christ seminary student and occasional blogger to offer his sense of the Christian faith from a liberal/progressive position.  In service to my own denominational tradition I have been making these pages available to people who, like me, are seeking opportunities to explore and share their faith with the broader public.  This should be the first of at least two pieces.  I invite you to engage Dwight in conversation.

*****************************************

A Progressive Christian

Take on Miracles

Over the last month or so there have been a number of articles on the question of miracles, the resurrection, and healing. This has spurred my own thought on these questions and I appreciate the opportunity Bob Cornwall has given me to try to put down some of these thoughts in the form of a post. My hope is to raise some questions, both for myself, and others in a way which can advance the discussion.

As a liberal protestant what does one do with supernatural interventions? Bruce Epperly and others have suggested that it is possible that we’re not dealing with the supernatural at all. That, instead, there may be features of our natural world, which can account for and open us up to these miraculous stories of the past as well as their present happenings. The indeterminacy of quantum mechanics, for instance, is lifted up to break down the old mechanistic accounts favored by the natural sciences. The energestic accounts make a universe far more personally responsive than the old atomistic ones.

But I still think some caution is needed in this front. Whatever happens at the quantum level is not so varied as to make the macro level operate under a new set of rules. And in the macro world, we still do not see things like physical resurrection occurring. There is nothing we know about biology nor do we have experiences that we can point to that indicates such occurrences today. That does not mean that the door is closed on such things. Epistemic humility requires as much.

But it does suggest that we may be facing the limits of what theology can talk about. In other words, given that God is far more than we can describe, we can presume our theologies will not exhaust God’s doings in the world. But there may be limits, given our knowledge of the world, which theology is in a position to say. In that the only response may be a holy silence when it surpasses that knowledge.

But if God is the God of this world then knowledge of the world should give us clues about God. When some Christians dismiss evolution, or other areas of consensus in the sciences, a distorted picture of the world and of God emerges. So getting it right or at least getting as close as one can get given the circumstances has theological implications. In that, I get nervous about some miracle stories or descriptions of resurrection which seem to be at odds with the consensus of the sciences or the kind of world they describe.

Even if we remove the category of the supernatural, the sense of the scriptures, is that miracles are extraordinary occasions. In the Second Testament, such stories are usually followed by the people being in “awe” after the miracle. But if we agree with Whitehead that God should exemplify the categories of our world, not be an exception to them, then maybe looking for God in the extraordinary should be suspect; or at least not necessary. In principle, one should likely find that how God operates in the ordinary or the extraordinary follows much the same lines.

Again that doesn’t close off the extraordinary. But it does suggest a kind of continuity in experience and in the character of God and God’s doings that can make any occasion a possible source of divine disclosure, even if some moments are more dramatic or profound in their impact on us then others. In that sense, we’re back to the old definition of miracles from Friedrich Schleiermacher. Any occasion which points to God and God’s doings, God’s purposes, God’s character in the world can be properly understood as a miracle. A smile or a calm sea both suggests much of the same thing. And it should if we’re on to something in our analysis.

In that case, the way that we might appropriate miracle stories today would be to discern the character of God as it its being told in the story of healings, for instance, to see if it has continuity with the kind of God we understand ourselves to serve. That may go outside of the question of did it happen or would it happen. But one can imagine how the character of God in such and such a story might be translated to our time. What brings healing today? What opens our eyes today? What acts in our lives so we can be included in the community as opposed to being cast out to the edges of town? When can new life happen even when some sought to kill it?

The hope is to engage those resources of scripture which can illuminate our experiences, of God, of one another, and so on. Some of the language of scripture does just that. But some do not. I had a high school student in my church liken faith in God to faith in Santa Claus. While only one has reindeer, both were equally fantastic in his mind, based on something that was wish fulfillment and not evidence based. I think as much inside the church as outside of it, we face a credibility crisis in the claims our faith tradition has made. To the degree that we can relate to the resources of our faith tradition and the world as we know it, we may be able to confront that problem. I think that has been the charge and the motivation for religious progressives in general and this discussion in particular.

Dwight Welch is finishing his final year at Christian Theological Seminary in Indianapolis as a MDiv student with the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and serves as a student pastor at First Christian in Sheridan Indiana. Previously Dwight did graduate work in philosophy while serving as a campus minister at University Christian Ministries at Southern Illinois University.  Although not blogging as often as before, Dwight's blog is entitled the Religious Liberal.   

An Alternative Way of Worship for Progressive Churches (Keith Watkins)

With Bruce Epperly writing a series of posts on the importance of Progressive Theology, perhaps it is appropriate that we also have a conversation about worship in progressive churches.  I know of no one better equipped to lead this conversation than Dr. Keith Watkins.  Since I didn't go to Christian Theological Seminary, I didn't have the opportunity to study under Keith.  However, over the past 20 years or so, Keith and I have developed a strong friendship and have conversed regularly over the years, whether in person or in other forms, about worship.  Therefore, because of this, I have been his student and he my teacher.  Keith is now an emeritus professor, living in the Pacific Northwest, but still actively teaching us about matters of worship, ministry, theology, history (and of course bicycling) through his new blog Keith Watkins Historian.  In the post that I am republishing with Keith's permission, he lays out the foundations of what will be an extended series of posts outlining what progressive Christian worship might look like.  In a response to my comment at his blog, he makes clear the direction:  "In each entry I intend to state clearly what I believe to be the way churches like ours should plan and conduct worship. In the process, I will give a rationale supporting my proposals."

___________________________________________

An Alternative Way of Worship
for Progressive Churches
By Dr. Keith Watkins

“What you should do, Keith, is develop an alternative liturgy for people like us.” My friend made this proposal as we were driving to his home following the celebration of Holy Communion at All Saints Episcopal Church in Pasadena, California. In earlier conversations, we had talked about our frequent disappointment with Sunday morning worship in churches of our own communion. He presumed that my long career as professor of worship, and my continuing interest in progressive Protestant church life, qualifies me to develop suggestions.

During the next few weeks, I intend to offer my reflections upon these matters. My goal is to outline characteristics of the church’s definitive liturgy of Word and Sacrament that meet three criteria: shaped by the historic tradition, expressed in the culture of our own time, and performed in a manner suitable to the occasion. In this first column of the series, I give a preview by noting characteristics of worship at All Saints Church, which I believe are consistent with these criteria.

First, the celebration conveys the sense that what is going on is important—important enough for the leaders to be well prepared and skilled in the performance of their respective parts of the liturgy. The liturgy is always well staged so that the visual and dramatic character of the event reinforces the meaning of the words and actions. The principal leader was at the top of his form. Although he and other leaders expressed a sense of personal presence, there was nothing trivial or inept about their words or actions.

Second, it was clearly an occasion of public worship rather than religious lecture, concert, seminar, support group, or political rally. By using the word worship, I mean that the primary orientation of the event was toward God who was addressed in the prayers, especially the prayers over the bread and wine during the communion. The scripture reading and sermon were presented in such a way that they prepared the congregants for their parts in the words and actions of praise. By public, I mean that participation was open to everyone. Except for the informal words and parish notes midway through the service, nothing was said or done in ways that implied congregants had to be insiders in order to understand and participate.

Third, the liturgy was fully consistent with the long-standing pattern of worship that began early in Christian history and, with important revisions, has continued in most churches ever since. At the same time, the liturgy at All Saints was revised in ways that allow it to be more appropriate for congregants at this progressive church. Contrary to the Prayer Book pattern, only one Scripture lesson was read rather than three. The ancient Nicene Creed was omitted. Most interesting to me was the fact that the Eucharistic prayer was carefully modified so that it more fully manifested conditions in the world and implications of the proclamation that had preceded this part of the liturgy.

While Episcopalians, as part of the Anglican Communion, maintain the tradition that the words of the Eucharistic prayer are to be read from the Book of Common Prayer, All Saints clergy make subtle variations in the early portion of the prayer while leaving unchanged the theologically important words at the prayer’s center. An exchange of e-mails with one of the church’s clergy indicates that the modifications of this prayer are developed or chosen with great care. Although the words of the service indicate an immediate awareness of current conditions, there is nothing left to chance in what was said and done.

Fourth, the style of the event was consistent with the geographical and cultural location of this church. All Saints Church is located at the very heart of Pasadena, California. This wealthy, politically important city east of Los Angeles is the center of major educational institutions, including Fuller Theological Seminary, museums, governmental buildings, commercial activities, and major churches. In some ways, this part of Los Angeles County, with its leaning toward politically progressive convictions, is the counter balance to politically conservative Orange County. Several years ago, a National Public Radio program featured All Saints in Pasadena and Saddleback Church in Mission Viejo as contrasting versions of churches that are appealing to younger, unchurched people in Southern California. All Saints Church appears to be advancing despite the malaise that marks many progressive churches. One reason is the skill with which the classic liturgy is adapted to the congregation’s natural constituency.

Fifth, the liturgy conveyed a sense of movement and energy. In part, this was because the order of service expressed the theological logic of the historic liturgy. The pacing, staging, language, and music of the morning were chosen and conducted in such a way that everyone was moved forward to a dramatic finale in communion. When we left church that morning, we felt as though we had actually done something that moved us from spiritual malaise to a sense of union with the God who comes to us in Jesus Christ.

Keith Watkins is a historian and theologian who has devoted his life to the study of worship and the the practical life of religious institutions. His graduate studies in Berkeley (Th.D. from Pacific School of Religion) focused on nineteenth-century liberalism and American religious studies. During his 33-year career at Christian Theological Seminary , he specialized in the history and theology of Christian worship. His books Liturgies in a Time When Cities Burn,    Faithful and Fair: Transcending Sexist Language in Worship, and The Great Thanksgiving: The Eucharistic Norm of Christian Worship, which illustrate this interest. His continuing interest in religious history is evident in his 2009 book A Visible Sign of God’s Presence: A History of the Yakama Christian Mission.  His blog, Keith Watkins Historian can be found here. 

.

On Not Polarizing Too Much: The Challenges of Prophetic Hospitality (Bruce Epperly)

As we near the Fourth of July holiday, a weekend in which citizens and residents of the United States of America will celebrate 234 years of independence, we also live at a time of increasing political and cultural polarization.  The political bases of the two parties have moved further and further from the center, so that less that civil statements and actions have come to the fore.  Bruce Epperly writes as a theological progressive and political liberal -- I note that both these terms are considered "unAmerican" in some circles."  Just today, I heard Jeff Sessions ask, with derision in his voice, whether Elena Kagan is a "progressive."  So, where are we as a nation when "birthers" and Tea Partiers seem to have taken hold of the imagination?  Bruce addresses some of these questions in what should prove to be one of his most provocative contributions to this blog.

****************************************

On Not Polarizing Too Much:

The Challenges of Prophetic Hospitality

Bruce G. Epperly

This week’s contribution includes affirmations, concerns, and confessions in responding to the growing polarization of our political and religious worlds. I begin with a concern: I believe that there are growing movements of political and religious polarization in our national life today. I believe these movements threaten the gains we have made as a nation in terms of health care, diversity, environmental protection, and human rights. These movements are motivated by a vision of reality that clearly and dramatically separates persons and policies in terms of good and evil, black and white, in and out, and us and them. When these movements draw on religious resources, they articulate a vision of God which is defined primarily in terms of judgment, power, exclusion, and destruction, rather than love, healing, and acceptance. In a world of diverse visions of reality and lifestyles, these groups believe that God is the ultimate divider, and calls us to do likewise. I will also make a confession: Many of the members of these movements of the religious and political “right” assume that people like me are the enemy, representing something that is destructive of true Christianity and the USA’s best interests.

While we progressives and liberals can be polarizing as well, seldom do progressive and liberal Christians or political activists threaten violence, insurrection, or question the patriotism of those with whom we disagree. I cannot recall among the many progressive and liberal diatribes against President Bush (which involved more than a little impolite conversation and words of demonization) calls for his assassination, the de-legitimization of his second election to the presidency, or the overthrow of the government. I suspect this was because in spite of their occasional vitriol, progressives and liberals are inherently big picture, inclusive, and global thinkers. I have concerns in terms of the growing influence of political and religious polarizing groups, especially in the context of their attempts to become the dominant voice of the Republican Party.

The question these groups raise for me as a progressive Christian is: “Can I be both prophetic and hospitable in relationship to the groups that judge my path as demonic, wrong, and hell-bent? Can I find ways to forcefully but lovingly respond to such groups and their belief systems?” I must confess these are challenges to me personally and spiritually, especially when I hear the comments of “birthers,” Tea Party members, libertarians, and Christian militia leaders. I am often angry, and am tempted to polarize in my own thoughts. I wrestle with how can I passionately advocate for what I believe is right for our nation and the future of our world, and what is congruent with my faith as a Christian – concern for global climate change, a greater sense of community and inclusion, welcome to strangers, health care for all persons, and affirmation of the interdependence of nations – and not demonize with whom I disagree, even when such persons see my views as demonic and dangerous to Christianity and the nation. How can I balance prophetic passion and justice-seeking with healing hospitality?

In her book Plan B, Anne Lamott admits that finding a way to envisage President Bush in a new light was her primary spiritual challenge. She passionately opposed everything about his leadership and policies, domestic and foreign. But, she came to realize that her hatred and demonizing of the President was hurting her spiritual growth and was standing in the way of following Jesus. She still continued to oppose President Bush’s policies, but began to visualize him as a child of God. This began a process of spiritual transformation that changed her life.

In many ways I feel like Anne Lamott when it comes to the rising polarizing political and religious right wing. As I seek to provide prophetic hospitality, my response is both theological and spiritual. First, as a process theologian, I believe that God influences every person to greater or lesser degree. The most vitriolic “birthers” are still touched by God; that is the meaning of omnipresence. While I suspect that they are turning their back on God’s call to a wider more creative and global vision of Shalom, God is still working within their lives, seeking wholeness and community. Second, all persons, even the most radical Tea Party persons, are God’s beloved children, deserving my basic human respect, despite the political gulf between us. Third, all persons, including myself, can experience transformation and conversion. From this perspective, my own political disagreements need to be framed as provocative alternatives, rather than attacks, grounded in the hope that “opponents” may awaken to the value of contrasting positions. Fourth, in order to avoid polarization, in the spirit of Reinhold Niebuhr, I am called to see the falsehood in my own truth, and the potential truth in the “opponent’s” falsehood. Sometimes, this is simply the recognition that your “opponent” is motivated by fear – fear of change, fear of economic insecurity, fear of otherness, fear of the inevitable decline in the American empire, and fear of losing one’s ethnic, social, or political place in society. To me, fear is the common denominator of all these groups in their quest to deport the alien, hold onto tax money, and delegitimize an African American president. Perhaps, they shout louder because they know that their cause is ultimately lost and that they are going against the grain of history and the nature of reality in its interdependence and diversity.

Theology inspires spiritual practices. I am working at “breathing deeply,” trying preserve my spiritual center when my own anger takes center stage. Gentle breath prayers break down the walls of division and open us to new possibilities for personal and communal transformation. Second, with Mother Teresa, I seek to see Christ “in all his distressing disguises,” including shouting Tea Party members, recalcitrant lawmakers, and violent militia persons.

Finally, as I seek to be hospitable to my “opponents,” I look for the truth in their falsehood even as I passionately affirm my vision of interdependence, community support, healthy diversity, equality for all persons, and ongoing evolution. I seek to experience God moving through all our lives, gently and persistently, even my political and religious “opponents.” Whether or not, we can find common cause in this time of knee-jerk divisiveness, I hope to bring forth the best in myself and my community by living by love rather than fear, imagination rather than stagnation, and hospitality rather than isolation.

Bruce Epperly is Professor of Practical Theology and Director of Continuing Education at Lancaster Theological Seminary and co-pastor of Disciples Community Church in Lancaster, PA. He is the author of seventeen books, including Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living and Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry.

 

The Resurrection of Life

We have been having a conversation off and on here about the resurrection of the body.  As I've noted before I'm uncomfortable jettisoning a bodily resurrection.  I realize that there are scientific questions that are problematic, but I don't think that its the science that's the problem.  I think its the physicality that is the issue.  Christian theology has from the beginning placed an emphasis on embodiedness.  That's why the Eucharist became so central to the Christian faith -- it was a witness against the Gnostic desire to free the soul from the body.   I think that there is an incipient gnosticism that underlies the popularity of metaphorical interpretations of the resurrection of Jesus.  If Jesus' appearances were nothing more than visions or dreams, then we don't have to deal with an embodied state.

In earlier posts I've talked about N.T. Wright's views, but Wright is probably more conservative than am I.  Bruce Epperly gave a progressive theological argument for an embodied resurrection -- but Bruce is probably to my left.  Standing in between these two positions, both of which embrace embodied resurrection, is Jurgen Moltmann.

I am in the midst of reading Moltmann's latest book, Sun of Righteousness, Arise! (I will be publishing an online review of the book with Englewood Review of Books), and Moltmann explores the resurrection in several chapters.  Regarding the resurrection, he notes his preference for the phrase "resurrection of life," rather than "resurrection of the dead, the body, or the flesh."  These are the typical terms used, but he finds them less helpful than "resurrection of life."  What does he mean by this?  Let me offer this quotation for you to consider and respond to.  

By the living, lived body we do not mean the desouled body as an object, as a set of scientifically objectified organs and the medical treatment of them; we mean the experienced and lived body with which I am subjectively identical:  I am body -- this body is I myself, this is my body gestalt or configuration, and my life history.  Life in this sense means the life that is lived, not unlived, the life that is affirmed, not denied, the life that is loved and accepted.  Real life is the bodiliness which I am:  unlived life is alienated bodiliness which I have.  (pp. 60-61).

He goes on to consider what it would mean if we were to confess the "resurrection of lived life."  If we were to make this confession, then we could accept that dying is "part of life," as well as "believe in the victory of life over death."   Yes, then "we can then affirm that eternal life will be lived in the transfigured body" (p. 61).  

So, what is it about the resurrection of the body that gets everyone so upset, and does Moltmann offer us a way forward?   

Healing as Divine-Human Synergy (Bruce Epperly)

We have been blessed to have Dr. Bruce Epperly serve as a regular contributor to Ponderings on a Faith Journey.  Indeed, it's probably time to take off the adjective "guest" from his status.  He returns today with the second of two essays dealing with healing, suggesting here that healing results from a divine-human synergy.  In this piece he invites moderate and progressive Christians to open themselves to the possibility that healing could be possible, and that it's not just the domain of TV evangelists.

****************************

HEALING AS

DIVINE-HUMAN SYNERGY

Bruce Epperly

My favorite healing stories are found in Mark 5:21-43 (also in Matthew 9:18-26 and Luke 8:40-56) in which the gospel writer describes the healing and curing of Jairus’ daughter and a woman with a flow of blood, most likely gynecological in nature. While there may not be an exact one-to-one correspondence between the gospel narrative and what actually happened, I believe that these transformative events resulted from a synergistic interplay of divine call and human response, involving human faith and the release divine healing energy.

If we listen imaginatively to these stories, they may transform our images of healing, wholeness, and human possibility. Freed from the modern world view and its horizontal and predictable understanding of causal relationships, progressive and moderate Christians can imagine lively, naturalistic moments in which God’s aim at abundant life and our inner resources for healing and wholeness can be activated in surprising ways within the causal interdependence of life. Such stories invite progressive and moderate Christians to expect more of God and more of ourselves in terms of possibility and energy.

Described in just over a paragraph (Mark 5:25-34), the story of the healing of the unnamed woman with a flow of blood is polyvalent in nature. On the one hand, as Crossan and others have rightly noted, her healing involves the transformation of her place in the social order and religious community. She moves from outsider to insider, scorned to welcomed, and sinner to righteous, in terms of first century mores. Her healing involves the whole person – relationships, social role, personal aspirations, and not just her body.

Still, this woman’s physical healing presents an interesting case study on the relationship of human openness and divine activity far different than the bombastic spectacles of many of today’s “faith healers.” Weighed down by twelve years of physically debilitating and socially devastating illness, this woman comes to the healer Jesus with a prayer on her lips. “If I just touch him, I will be made well.” We can suspect that she repeated these words over and over to give her courage to face angry stares as well as her own sense of hopelessness. When she comes to Jesus, her words become flesh. Against all social convention, she touches the healer and is transformed. The narrative notes that a power flowed from Jesus energizing and curing her, body, mind, and spirit. The healing story concludes with a face-to-face encounter in which Jesus blesses her and calls her to new life. “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.” In that moment, the physical cure is joined with a healing that transforms her spiritual life and her relationship the community.

In this brief but intricate story, we observe a divine-human synergy. The woman would not have been healed apart from her faith in Jesus’ ability to cure her. But, her faith alone could not have restored her spiritually, physically, and socially. Her faith opened a pathway for the release of divine energy (chi, ki, prana, dunamis, preuma), the energy of healing and wholeness that transforms bodies, minds, and spirits. This is no supernatural event, but the release of the deeper, more energetic powers of life, present within the natural causal interdependence of life.

I suspect that Jesus, who was initially unaware of the woman, was a focal point for the presence and channeling of divine healing power, present in latent and varying degrees throughout the universe.

The healing of Jairus’ daughter also joins spirituality and physical transformation. In this narrative, Jesus is the primary actor, presenting the parents and his disciples with an alternative interpretation of the young girl’s condition – she is in a comatose state rather than dead – and then creating a healing circle, a community of faith that supports his own aim at healing and wholeness. Could this small healing circle have played a role in awakening the healing forces resident in the young girl, Jesus, and the gathered community? (I describe these stories in greater detail in God’s Touch: Faith, Wholeness, and the Healing Miracles of Jesus, Westminister/John Knox, 2002.)

Both of these stories speak to us today. They open moderate and progressive Christians to new ways of interpreting scripture and God’s work in our lives. The invite us to expect more of ourselves in the healing process, while also expecting greater divine possibilities in our lives.

First, they describe what physicians today call the “faith factor,” the recognition that our beliefs, spiritual practices, and realistic optimism can activate healing powers resident in our lives and in the universe. Second, these stories point to God’s universal energy as a factor that we can awaken to in life-transforming ways. Finally, these stories describe the role of a community of faithful companions, open to divine power, in contributing to our health and well-being.

(As I regularly counsel pastors and laypeople, always gather a “healing team” of supporters, rather than naysayers, whenever you go to the hospital or are facing a difficult decision.)

Often, moderate and progressive Christians believe “too little” in terms of the synergy of divine and human power. Put off by televangelists who believe “too much” in terms of their affirmation of supernaturalism, demonism, and divine punishment, moderate and progressive Christians fail to recognize the possibilities for whole person healing in a god-filled universe. If God is present everywhere, seeking abundant life for everything, then openness to God – in the divine-human call and response – can bring forth new possibilities. Cures are not guaranteed in the multi-factorial world of DNA, family of origin, environment, faith, and other factors contributing to physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being. But, within this matrix of causal relationships, naturalistic healings and cures may occur, not in arbitrary fashion, but in ways that reflect God’s intention for healing and our openness in faith. Our task is faithfully to open ourselves to the wonders in every moment and the possibilities for transformation in every encounter.

Bruce Epperly is a seminary professor and administrator at Lancaster Theological Seminary, pastor, theologian, and spiritual companion. He is the author of seventeen books, including Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, a response to Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life. His Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Katherine Gould Epperly, was selected Book of the Year by the Academy of Parish Clergy.

Persons interested in progressive approaches to healing and wholeness may consult his God’s Touch: Faith, Wholeness, and the Healing Miracles of Jesus; Healing Worship: Purpose and Practice; orReiki Healing Touch and the Way of Jesus, written with Katherine Gould Epperly. He can be contacted at bepperly@lancasterseminary.edu.

Did Jesus Cure Anybody? (Bruce Epperly)

In today's installment of Bruce Epperly's reflections on a Spirit-centered Progressive theology, he takes up what are to be at least two essays on healing.  Bruce believes that Progressives are missing the boat by ignoring this important aspect of spiritual life.  I myself struggle with what to make of this idea, so I welcome Bruce's reflections.

***************************************************

Did Jesus Cure Anyone?

Bruce G. Epperly

For a number of years, I have challenged my fellow progressive Christians to recognize the importance of mysticism, spirituality, paranormal normal experiences, and healing for a holistic faith for the future. A recent Pew Center Report notes that 50% of persons who identify themselves as mainline Christians report having experiences of self-transcendence. The fact that every other mainstream or progressive Christian reports an encounter with the Holy suggests that a holistic and spirit-centered progressive theology must take mysticism, spirituality, and healing seriously. Too often, we progressives have separated spirituality from social action and personal faith from social concern. Happily, Marcus Borg and Barbara Brown Taylor have joined Diana Butler Bass, Dorothy Bass, and me in affirming the importance of spiritual practices for energizing and transforming progressive Christianity.

The area of healing and the significance of Jesus’ healing ministry for first century and twenty- first century persons still remains a barely-charted frontier for progressive Christians. For example, the Center for Progressive Christianity’s “eight points” makes no mention of healing or spirituality. The Phoenix Affirmations recognizes in an understated way “the benefits of prayer, worship, recreation, and healthiness in addition to work.” With few exceptions, progressive Christians interested in healing and wholeness must read the works of holistic physicians such as Larry Dossey, Deepak Chopra, Candace Pert, and Herbert Benson to discover the connection between faith, spirituality, and healing.1 Progressive Christians have written little or nothing about complementary medicine, despite the fact that many progressive pastors and laypersons practice, receive, or sponsor in their buildings, holistic modalities such as reiki healing touch, massage therapy, Qi Gong, healing touch, therapeutic touch, Tai Chi, and yoga.2 For many progressives, spirituality is connected with other worldliness and healing is connected with supernaturalism and the bombastic theatrics of televangelists. While there is much truth in these connections, a healthy faith does not live by what it denies about God, wholeness, and mysticism, but by what it can affirm about divine activity, personal transformation, and the relationship of spirituality and healing.

I believe that progressive Christians need to reclaim the healings of Jesus as part of their embrace of today’s growing movements in global and complementary medicine. Healing can be understood as natural, rather than supernatural, and can involve the transformation of energy in the dynamic interdependence of mind-body-spirit rather than the violation of predictable causal relationships.

I suspect many progressive Christians are daunted in their quest to reclaim the healings of Jesus by comments by leading progressives such as John Dominic Crossan and John Shelby Spong. In Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography, Crossan denies that Jesus’ ministry involved curing physical ailments. After correctly noting the distinction between healing and curing, and illness and disease, articulated by contemporary medical anthropologists, Crossan notes: “This is the central problem of what Jesus was doing in his healing miracles. Was he curing the disease [leprosy] from an intervention in the physical world, or was he healing the illness through an intervention in the social world?” In response to his question, Crossan boldly asserts: “I assume that Jesus, who did not and could not cure that disease or any other one [emphasis mine], healed the poor man’s illness by refusing to accept the disease’s ritual uncleanness and social ostracization.”(82) Although there is much to commend in Crossan’s understanding of Jesus’ healing ministry as a political and sociological phenomenon, why not take a more holistic – and, dare I say, more progressive – approach to the question and answer “yes” to both healing and curing, social and physical transformation. Jesus’ healing ministry transformed people’s social location, bringing them from marginalization to full humanity, as Crossan rightly asserts, but Jesus’ acts of compassionate care also transformed the whole person in the dynamic interplay of body, mind, and spirit.

Progressive Christianity needs to go beyond “modern” mind-body dualism to a more holistic, relational, and constructive post-modern approach to healing and wholeness. Progressive Christians are challenged to consider the possibility that Jesus was able to achieve what many contemporary holistic and spiritual healers as well as faithful Christians at liturgical healing services regularly experience - the transformation of the whole person through healing touch, anointing with oil, reiki, prayer, or laying on of hands. Isn’t it possible that Jesus tapped into the deeper energies of the world, working within the causal relatedness of life?

In contrast to the modern world view’s separation of mind and body, sacred and secular, person and environment, and spirituality and social transformation, a truly holistic progressive theology affirms the insights of complementary and mind-body medicine and contemporary physics, both of which describe the relationship of mind, body, and spirit as part of one whole, interdependent reality in which spirituality shapes embodiment and embodiment shapes spirituality. In light of this, when Jesus touched persons with leprosy, he may have done several things simultaneously: affirmed their humanity, welcomed them into the reign of God, deepened their spiritual awareness, transferred healing energy (dunamis), and awakened the healing energies resident in their bodies. As fully aligned with God’s vision, Jesus may have experienced a special connection with the divine power that continuously creates the universe and gives life to every cell, variously known as chi, prana, and pneuma.

Crossan rightly challenges magical and supernatural understandings of curing and appropriately recognizes that healing, involving the sense of personal meaning and social connectedness is essential to our well-being. But, perhaps, we need to ponder more appreciatively the unity of healing and curing in Jesus’ ministry. Jesus touched persons with leprosy and reached out to persons with chronic and socially stigmatized diseases; but in the processes of welcoming them to God’s realm, Jesus may also have encountered them in ways that energized God’s healing presence within their lives, transforming cells as well as souls. This is not magic or supernaturalism but a process of awakening people to the omnipresent movements toward abundant life in the quest for justice, in mystical experiences, and in moments of physical transformation. As truly progressive Christians, we don’t need to choose between healing and curing – our hospitality to the marginalized and stigmatized, advocacy for universal and accessible health care, and action for healthy environments can be joined with liturgical healing services, anointing at the bedside, and global and complementary healing practices.

1. Some progressive-oriented writings on Jesus’ healings include Robert Webber and Tilda Norberg, Stretch Out Your Hand and Bruce Epperly, God’s Touch: Faith, Wholeness, and the Healing Miracles of Jesus and Healing Worship: Purpose and Practice.
2. Some progressive-oriented writings on complementary medicine include Bruce and Katherine Epperly, Reiki Healing Touch and the Way of Jesus and Flora Litt, Healing from the Heart.

Bruce Epperly is a seminary professor and administrator at Lancaster Theological Seminary, pastor, theologian, and spiritual companion. He is the author of seventeen books, including Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, a response to Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life. HisTending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Katherine Gould Epperly, was selected Book of the Year by the Academy of Parish Clergy.   Persons interested in progressive approaches to healing and wholeness may consult his God’s Touch: Faith, Wholeness, and the Healing Miracles of Jesus;  Healing Worship:  Purpose and Practice; or Reiki Healing Touch and the Way of Jesus, written with Katherine Gould Epperly. He can be contacted at bepperly@lancasterseminary.edu.