Issue #1

December 4, 2006

This past weekend I attended the 10th anniversary celebration of Progressive Christians Uniting in Pasadena, California. PCU was founded by two formative figures in the practice of Progressive Christianity, Dr. John Cobb of The Claremont School of Theology and George Regas, Rector Emeritus of All Saints Episcopal Church in Pasadena. (Regas, some of you may be aware, has recently come under fire by the I.R.S. for preaching a sermon that was, in that giant bureaucracy’s strange collective mind, deemed too political. Never mind the rantings of Pat Robertson, Jerry Falwell, Ted Haggard and the like.)

It was a small but enthusiastic gathering that highlighted the development of Progressive Christianity in Southern California. Most memorable for me was something Regas said in his brief presentation. He stressed the importance of combining a rigorous and clear progressive theology with a prophetic and disciplined religious practice. It was, he stressed, a deep and profound love of the Church that propelled him into action, even when his actions brought discomfort and even discord to his congregation.

It is with that same affection that I begin this occasional series on the impact of Progressive Christianity in the life of the parish. My reflections are based on 25 years of ordained ministry nearly all of it served in one congregation, Lord of the Mountains Lutheran Church in Dillon, Colorado.

Over the years, I have sought to find ways of integrating my enthusiasm for a radically different understanding of Christianity with the practices of congregational life, particularly, but not exclusively, as it pertained to communal worship.

When one is captivated by the teachings of Jesus rather than the teachings about Jesus, one recognizes a distinct incongruence between the words of Jesus and the words of worship. Why, for instance, do we continue to employ creeds that give virtually no nod to what Jesus taught? Why are our hymns consumed by understandings that have nothing to do with the authentic teachings of Jesus? Why does our liturgy continue to focus on the strange, even bizarre, idea of atonement?

An excellent example of this incongruity comes in the recent introduction of the new Lutheran worship book. At first glance, a plethora of possibilities appears included among the liturgies presented but upon closer inspection one quickly realizes that they are all based on the same tired theology. How wonderful it would have been to have even one worship setting devoted to the teachings of Jesus. A liturgy based on The Beatitudes, for instance, might have provided some sustenance to those of us who find the continued emphasis on sin and redemption something less than satisfying or, more importantly, even consistent with the authentic teachings of Jesus.

In Lutheran circles, many congregations have been profoundly moved by Marty Haugen’s innovative vesper service, Holden Evening Prayer. A quick study reveals that this beautiful and brief liturgy is shaped not by the traditional emphasis on the depravity of humankind and the need for blood sacrifice but rather on the joy inherent in serving others, the pleasure found in creation, the call to peace and justice making. Why can’t our official liturgies share that same combination of prophetic witness, theological integrity and liturgical beauty? Again, for some of us who continue to dare lay claim to Christianity, such a combination in far more indicative of the call of Christ than what we hear on most Sundays.

Actually, many of us often do hear powerful sermons that call us to precisely the path of following Jesus, but then we quickly retreat with references to a religion that bears little relevance for the 21st century. The Words of Institution, so deeply imbedded in our communal consciousness, drip with doctrinal claims that many of us suspect are not authentic to Jesus. Must our celebration around the table always be prescribed by the divine demand of human sacrifice? Can’t it occasionally be shaped solely as a celebration of commonality?

Such is the challenge of practicing Progressive Christianity amidst our cherished denominations. There are many who suggest that such an endeavor should be conducted outside the traditional churches. Indeed, there are some who claim that Progressive Christianity has no right to even claim the Christian mantle. But there are those of us, admittedly sometimes very few, who believe that Christianity is a dynamic movement that, if it seeks to be guided by the authentic teachings of Jesus, must not to remain mired in archaic world-views or antiquated religious practices.

At this past weekend’s conference, a young Methodist pastor, bright, articulate and deeply inspiring, proclaimed, “I am surrounded by people who think they know enough about Christianity not to want to be Christian.”

I share her experience and seek to find ways of offering a Christian alternative that is both intriguing to others and authentic to Jesus.It is with that goal that I write this and ensuing epistles.