Tell me what you believe about God (God’s nature, how God is present and acts in the world, God’s aims for creation, etc.) and I can understand what makes you tick.
Anyone who knows me is aware that I love theology. Theology is a human attempt to understand God. All theology is produced by humans and, until very recently, almost exclusively the product of men (which explains why the church is no further along in its faithfulness.) I believe theology is important because what one believes about God helps dictate what that person believes about everything else. Tell me what you believe about God (God’s nature, how God is present and acts in the world, God’s aims for creation, etc.) and I can understand what makes you tick. For example, if you believe in the Rapture, you will probably care very little about the exploitation of nature or the importance of justice. If you believe that God could not or would not forgive you until Jesus had to suffer a horrible death, your concept of an angry, distant, and calculating God will carry over into your own way of thinking and being. If you believe that God’s love is unconditional and indiscriminate, compassion and patience toward others will characterize your daily living. So, one’s theology is important. (Everyone has a theology. The issue is whether one’s theology is healthy or sick, helpful or harmful, wise or foolish, cosmic or parochial.
However, theology by itself is often not transforming and healing. What one believes does not necessarily affect how one lives. I grew up in a denomination which basically defined salvation in terms of whether one believed the “right things.” Among those required beliefs were the inerrancy and infallibility of Scripture, a literal Adam and Eve, penal substitutionary atonement, and an everlasting, punitive hell. Since I believe none of such foolishness, in the eyes of many Christians, I am not “saved” and am destined for the fires of hell. What always amazed me was that the lives of many of those who insisted on believing all the “right” things (rightwing things?) often had virtually nothing in common with the example of Jesus. One could be a racist and be a Christian. One could be addicted to greed and be a Christian. One could be a warmonger and be a Christian. Finally, it dawned on me that too often what one professes to believe requires little or nothing from them. Their religion asks nothing from them but an adherence to certain beliefs which had little if anything to do with following Jesus.
Today we see a proliferation of this understanding of the faith. Many white Evangelical Christians are adamant about their faith in God and Christ, but their God and Christ have nothing in common with the Jesus of the Gospels. They have substituted a racist, Rambo Jesus and a Sanctifier of the American crass capitalist system for a Jesus of compassion, justice, nonviolence, servanthood, and forgiveness. There is no appreciation or practice of the Golden Rule, no love of enemies, no rejection of greed, no valuing of truth, and no awareness that when we “do it unto the least of these, we do it unto Jesus.” The Jesus of American civil religion is a Jesus of convenience designed to validate a bigoted, greedy, arrogant, and violent lifestyle. Rarely in these fundamentalist and conservative churches will you hear sermons on the teachings of Jesus or on his deeds, much less what he requires of his followers. Their Jesus is a false savior who is no more than an idol created in their own image.
What American Christianity needs to recover is what is called “cruciformity” in theological circles. The word “cruciform” originally was an architectural term describing the way cathedrals were built in the shape of a cross. Thus, cruciform means “cross-shaped.” At the beginning of the 20th century theologians began using the term to describe the spirituality seen primarily in the Gospel of Mark and in the letters of Paul. At the center of this theology was Jesus’ charge that we “take up our cross and follow him” and Paul’s theology of the cross found primarily in Philippians 2, Romans, and the first chapter of I Corinthians. It’s crucial that we understand that this theology of the cross has nothing in common with the popular and unfortunate theory of penal substitutionary atonement. The focus is on the self-giving love of God poured out by God throughout the life of Jesus and culminating in his death and resurrection. We are called to emulate this self-giving love as we practice compassion and empathy.
Paul, in Philippians 2, prefaces his great hymn to Christ with these words: So, if there is any encouragement in Christ, any incentive of love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfishness or conceit, but in humility count others better than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus… The Apostle then goes on to tell the narrative of Jesus in poetic form in what some see as his hymn to Christ. We are to emulate the self-giving love of Jesus as he emptied himself for the sake of others. This self-giving love was not evident just on the cross. It characterized Jesus’ whole ministry. However, on the cross that love found its ultimate expression and consummation. Jesus is not only the object of our faith; he is also the example of our faith. Indeed, he cannot be the object of our faith without being the example we follow in our daily living. There is no authentic worshipping without authentic following. Eighty-seven times in the Gospels Jesus says, “Follow me.” How so many Christians can miss that emphasis is beyond my comprehension!
We live in a culture which is obsessed with rights. Such a concern is understandable and necessary for those who are denied their God-given rights on the basis of race, ethnic origin, gender, sexual orientation, and physical, mental, and emotional challenges. The securing of those rights is a matter of justice, and justice is what love looks like in the public arena. However, the obsession with rights by those who are privileged, wealthy, white (in our culture), secure, and enfranchised is sinfully connected to the greed, individualism, and arrogance which characterize our American capitalist society. Rarely do people in or outside the church stop and question their right to have so much when others have so little. Rarely do we practice personal and CORPORATE compassion as we look upon those whose identities and fates have been made permanent as “the least of these” in our culture by forces over which they have no control. Rarely do we put the interests of others above our own. The fact that such a suggestion is labelled in many churches and among many Christians as liberal or communist or socialist or naïve or foolish or irresponsible simply shows how far we have strayed from the source of our faith, Jesus Christ.
Notice that the “you” in Paul’s words in Philippians is second person plural (“Y’all” in the South). Within the church Paul is envisioning everyone looking out for one another. When everyone looks out for everyone, everyone is looked after. No one is left out. Paul is calling for a communal cruciformity. That doesn’t mean that we should only care for those within the church or for “our kind.” The gospel is for God so loves the world and we are called to share that self-giving love with others, even our enemies according to Jesus. However, within the church this cruciform love should be expected and practiced. If we cannot have that kind of love within the Body of Christ, we have nothing of value to share with the world. Unfortunately, churches are forever trying to restrict the circle of God’s concern and love to their kind. We must overcome that heresy if we are to claim the name of Jesus.
United Methodist New Testament scholar Michael J Gorman (the Raymond E Brown Chair in Biblical Studies at St Mary’s Seminary in Baltimore, Maryland) relates the importance of the resurrection of Jesus in an interview with John Morehead on the podcast Multi-Faith Matters. He says, “The beauty of a cruciform spirituality/ethic is that it is also infused with the resurrection. It is life-giving and that’s because of the continuity between the crucified Jesus and the resurrected Jesus.” Too often we treat the resurrection as a good ending to the Jesus story which has replaced the tragedy of the cross. That is a most unfortunate tendency in the church. It leads to a triumphalism which ignores, among other things, the absolute requirement that we take up our cross and follow Jesus. When Thomas meets the resurrected Christ, Christ still bears the wounds of his crucifixion. John in Revelation speaks of the Lamb (Christ) who was slain from the foundation of the world and still bears those wounds. These are metaphorical ways of saying that God is still the Crucified God who identifies with all the past, current, and future suffering and injustices in this world. Jesus stands today as both crucified and resurrected because the self-giving love which characterized his life and death are still operative, transformative, and healing today and throughout time. There is a power in the weakness of the cross (Read I Corinthians 1. I dare you.) Why is there power? Because only self-giving love graced by God and emulated by us can save us from ourselves. Gorman quotes another New Testament scholar whom he does not name: “The Resurrected Christ is the One who enables us to live the cruciform life and to read Scriptures through the lens of the cross and the resurrection.”
Cruciformity is simply a poignant and powerful way of saying “following Jesus”—of “taking up our cross daily and following him.” The cross is the price we pay to be faithful to God in a world which is opposed and hostile to the way of love.
Cruciformity is simply a poignant and powerful way of saying “following Jesus”—of “taking up our cross daily and following him.” The cross is the price we pay to be faithful to God in a world which is opposed and hostile to the way of love. Cruciformity is a powerful expression of what it means to be a Christian—a disciple of Christ. The truth of this concept is far more important than correct and convoluted theology. This way of life can be lived by anyone who chooses to open themselves to the grace and love of God. Perhaps the person in history who came closest to living like Jesus was Francis of Assisi. Francis was not learned, sophisticated, or exceptional in ways valued by the world. But he turned his world upside down and continues to inspire and challenge the church today. He so identified with the Crucified Christ that he came to bear the stigmata on his own body. If the church in North American doesn’t embrace the call of Jesus to cruciformity, we will lose our right to even call ourselves Christians or the Body of Christ. We will be among those Jesus mentioned in Matthew 7 at the conclusion of the Sermon on the Mount who called him “Lord, Lord” and delineated all their “spiritual” accomplishments. Jesus’ response was, “I never knew you.”
