Georgia on My Mind

Dr. Georgia E. Harkness

“Religion is perhaps its own worst enemy. For religion, masquerading under the guise of archaic creeds, and impossible literalisms, and ecclesiasticism indifferent to human needs, has brought about an inevitable and in many respects wholesome revulsion.”

Georgia Harkness

I think I first heard the name of Georgia Harkness when I was in elementary Sunday School. Maybe it came up because we were singing her hymn, “Hope of the World.” Maybe we were looking at contemporary Methodism. Maybe I saw a book that my mother was reading. I knew about Georgia Harkness before I knew anything about Tillich or Barth or Bonhoeffer or the Niebuhrs.

But the truth is that her name was almost all I knew, and across the years I did not pay much attention. She was one of the lesser lights of twentieth century theology and I was focused on the stars.

She is on my mind now because I referenced her in a blog post about covenant. I listed her as a part of the church I was joining when I was ordained. In truth, I listed her because she was the only female Methodist theologian I could think of.

Georgia Harkness.

Just saying her name brings me a certain comfort.

In our current precipitous and disastrous tilt toward literalism, doctrinal Puritanism, and worship of the Book of Discipline, I find it comforting to remember a time when we were not like that.

Georgia Harkness reminds me of my Methodist home, a place of openness, hope and grace. She reminds me of the family, the faith, and the church in which I grew up.

In her 1957 book, “Understanding the Christian Faith,” her chapter on “Understanding the Bible” lays out the perspective I grew up with, that the Bible is a sacred book, written over a period of about a thousand years. It is “heavenly treasure in earthen vessels.” It was not written for scientific or historical accuracy, but to convey the timeless message of God’s love and care. Some of it is time bound by the culture in which it was written, but at its heart it holds timeless truths about God and humanity. It is up to us, as we read the Bible, to separate the heavenly treasure from the earthen vessels.

Writing about “Jesus Christ Our Lord,” she states, “The question as to whether Jesus was born of a virgin is one on which the opinion of Christians differ, and the biblical accounts do not throw clear light upon it.” And on the resurrection, she declares, “We cannot be sure of the details of what happened that first Easter morning, but the central fact is certain. To the disciples . . . their Leader was not dead but present with them.” 

If she were alive today, we might call her a Progressive Christian. But in her own time, for a Methodist, her theology was predictably orthodox.

After forty years of relentless attacks by the IRD (Institute on Religion and Democracy) and Good News, and their allies, the United Methodist Church has become an institution that Georgia Harkness would barely recognize. We have become “our own worst enemy.” Although she passed away more than forty years ago, her description of the direction in which we are heading is prophetic in the biblical sense of that word. 

"Under the guise of following archaic creeds and impossible literalisms," we have engaged in an "ecclesiasticism" that is "indifferent to human needs." And there are consequences. This has brought about “an inevitable and in many respects wholesome revulsion.”

We have replaced the hope of the world with a rigid religiosity that values creeds over human beings. And on the fundamental issue that divides us as a church, the inclusion of LGBTQ persons, we have chosen ecclesiasticism over human needs.

Though I believe that the church today needs to hear her voice, her time was hardly a golden age. It is important to recognize that she grew up in an age of intense racial and gender discrimination. 

After graduating from Cornell in 1912 she was not able to attend seminary and train for the ministry. She taught high school for six years but that was not her calling. She wanted to pursue a theological education and enrolled at Boston University. She was denied entrance to the School of Theology because she was a woman, but she was accepted in the School of Religious Education and eventually in Department of Religion of the Graduate School, where she studied with Edgar Brightman and earned a Ph.D.

She taught religion and philosophy at Elmira College (which was a women’s college at the time) and then was Professor of Philosophy and Religious Studies at Mount Holyoke. In 1940 she was appointed Professor of Applied Theology at what is now Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary, becoming the first woman to teach theology at any seminary in the U.S. Today Garrett honors her with the Georgia Harkness Chair of Applied Theology. She retired in 1960 from The Pacific School of Religion.

In 1948 she attended a meeting of the World Council of Churches where she had an iconic interchange with Karl Barth.

Barth, along with a few other men, participated in a section on the “Life and Work of Women in Churches.” Just before the discussion began, the chairperson surprised Harkness by asking her to state the theological basis for the work. She recalls, “I said briefly that in the Old Testament it is stated that both male and female are created in the image of God; in the New Testament Jesus assumed always that men and women were equal before God, and in our Christian faith is the chief foundation of sex equality.”

She reports that as soon as she finished, Barth addressed the group and said that she was “completely wrong, that the Old Testament conception of woman is that she was made from Adam’s rib and the New Testament that of Ephesians 5, that as Christ is the head of the Church, so man is the head of woman.”

After that they had a lively interchange in which, as she recalls, “I did little more than quote Galatians 3:28 (“There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”) Her judgment was that “Barth convinced nobody.” And she concludes her recollection of the event this way: “A year later when a friend of mine asked him if he recalled meeting a woman theologian from America, his cryptic reply was, ‘Remember me not of that woman.’”

Barth did not want to remember her, but I do. 

Are We Reading the Same Bible?

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”
Mark 1:14-15 (New Revised Standard Version)

I first learned those verses in the older Revised Standard Version, which said that Jesus came preaching “the Gospel of God,” and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the Gospel.”

I interpreted that to mean three separate things:
1. He preached the Gospel.
2. He said that the Kingdom of God was at hand.
3. He called his listeners to repent and believe in the Gospel.

I assumed that the “Gospel” he called them to believe in was the story of his life and death and resurrection.

Of course, I was wrong. The Gospel is the Good News. And the Good News is that the Kingdom of God is among us. Jesus wasn’t saying three different things. He was preaching the Good News of the Kingdom of God and calling his listeners to repent and believe it. That is the clear and unmistakable meaning of the text. I interpreted it differently because I brought prior assumptions to it.

My mistake was that I assumed that the Bible and the Gospel were about personal faith. I wasn’t completely wrong. The Bible has a lot to say about personal faith, but it has a lot more to say about social issues, about how we treat one another, about the meaning of justice, and especially about economic justice.

Jesus’ message was about the Kingdom of God. He invited his disciples to live in that strange place where the oppressed are set free, the lame walk, the blind see and the deaf hear, where the poor are lifted up and the mighty are cast down, where the hungry are fed and the naked are clothed, where enemies are loved and strangers are welcomed, where everyone has enough and no one has too much. 

But personal faith is always the popular favorite.

A recent study of Bible verses shared on the internet shows that the most shared verses are Proverbs 3:5-6, Philippians 4:6-7, Joshua 1:9, Romans 12:2, and Romans 15:13.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
and do not rely on your own insight.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.
Proverbs 3:5-6

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:6-7

I hereby command you: Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”
Joshua 1:9

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God— what is good and acceptable and perfect.
Romans 12:2

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Romans 15:13

What is striking, though it probably should not be surprising, is that all of the popular verses are about personal faith. There is nothing wrong with that. We all need it. The chosen verses are all inspiring. Romans 12:2 has always been a personal favorite or mine. We all want “tidings of comfort and joy.” And that is an important part of the biblical message. But it is not the whole message. And it is not the center of the message. 

Sometimes when I listen to Christians say hurtful or vengeful or violent or selfish things in the name of their faith I cannot help wondering if we are reading the same Bible. Certainly they read the Bible differently. One suspects that it is possible to read all those verses about personal faith and come away with one’s prejudices unchallenged and one’s bigotry fully intact.

Giving Up on "The Word of God"

All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that everyone who belongs to God may be proficient, equipped for every good work.
II Timothy 3:16-17

I have given up on “The Word of God.”

That does not mean that I have given up on the Bible. I do more in-depth Bible study now than I ever did. And I learn more now than I ever did. The new biblical scholarship of Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan has opened up new insights. And I read the classical works of William Barclay with renewed appreciation. I can go on for a long time about “The New Interpreter’s Study Bible,” which is, by the way, the best study Bible ever. I would not describe myself, as John Wesley did, as “a man of one book,” but the Bible holds a special and sacred place in my thinking. Because it is so important, I am careful in how I describe it.

Christians routinely speak of the Bible as the "Word of God."

In many congregations, the weekly reading of Scripture on Sunday mornings is punctuated by saying, “The Word of God for the people of God,” and the people respond, “Thanks be to God.”

The problem is that when we call the Bible the “Word of God,” many people both inside and outside the church take it as an endorsement of biblical literalism. In spite of our efforts to make clear that when we say that the Bible is the Word of God, we don’t mean “the words of God,” many people still hear it as meaning that we believe the Bible is inerrant and infallible. Many assume we believe that God actually communicated those words in some form to the people who then wrote them down. Of course, we don’t mean that at all; we mean that it is inspired, that it speaks to us of the deepest things of the human soul and spirit.

A few years ago at our church we replaced that response with something that is closer to our theological understanding. Now after reading the Scripture, the leader says, “As we hear what the Spirit says to the Church.” And the people respond, “May our hearts be open.” 

We hope that makes it clearer that we are listening for the Spirit to speak to us through the text, that we are listening as the community of the church, and that we want to be open to what the Spirit of God is saying to us today.

More than half a century ago, Paul Tillich argued that much of our Christian language had lost its power. Words like “grace,” “salvation,” “sin,” and even “God,” no longer resonated in the way that they did across nearly two millennia of Christian history. He believed they needed to be reinterpreted, or perhaps even abandoned completely and replaced with new language.

Tillich was clearly right that we needed then and now to learn new ways of speaking. It is not so much that the ancient words have lost their power as that we no longer understand them in the way that earlier Christians once did. Their power has been corrupted by the modern tendency toward literalism. And taken literally, the words sound crude and strange to modern ears.

The words are still powerful. But not in a good way. 

As the Apostle Paul wisely said, “the letter kills, but the spirit gives life.” Literalism kills the spirit and makes the letter all powerful. It does not encourage the spiritual journey. It excludes rather than invites. And, of course it misunderstands the very text it is trying to elevate.

Four Guys on the Roof

When he returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at home. So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door; and he was speaking the word to them. Then some people came, bringing to him a paralyzed man, carried by four of them. And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven. . . . Stand up, take your mat and go to your home.” And he stood up, and immediately took the mat and went out before all of them; so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!”
Mark 2:1-5, 11-12

I need to begin with a footnote. The healing stories in the Gospels are always problematic texts for preaching, because all of us know people who have not been healed. At least, not in the way that they would wish. We only have to read the “Fellowship of Concern” in our bulletin to know that that is true. And it is important that Christians never, never burden those who are already suffering with the notion that if they had more faith they would, in fact, be healed. The healing power of God must always remain a mystery. And the forms of God’s healing must also be a mystery. But in spite of that caution, these stories speak to us in a profound way about our need for healing and about God’s healing power.

Let’s look at the story itself.

First, from the perspective of the paralytic and the people who carried him. Four guys. Maybe they were in Capernaum, that’s where Jesus teaching. Maybe they were in Bethsaida, which is not far away. Maybe they were in the hill country not far from town. We don’t know where they were. But some way, somehow, these four guys got together with their friend who was paralyzed. And they began to talk. And someone said, “You know, there’s this rabbi, Yeshua, and people are telling amazing stories about him. There have been healings. We should take you!”

And the man probably protested, telling them they shouldn’t go to all that trouble, they have their own lives, they are too busy. Besides, it wouldn’t make any difference anyway. But I imagine they persisted. “WE have nothing to lose. Let’s try this.”

So they picked him up and they carried him. Can’t you imagine them walking through the market and down the village streets, and people looking and wondering what’s going on?

Eventually, they arrived at the house. Not only is it full inside, the crowd spills out through the doorway and into the courtyard. There is no possibility of getting into the house. But these guys are determined.

In those days, in Palestine, houses were often made with a mud and thatch roof. Sometimes they were built into the side of a hill, so that you could actually walk around the side of the hill and up on top of the roof. And that’s what they did. They went around the side and up the hill onto the roof. Then they set their friend down and began digging through the thatch and the mud.

Now, let’s switch perspective. Imagine that we are inside. Rabbi Jesus is teaching, and a group of rabbis are gathered around him, along with the disciples and a crowd of other listeners. The house is so full that it is hard for anyone to move.

The scripture says, “He was teaching them the word,” which probably means he was teaching Torah (the first five books of the Old Testament, what we call the Pentateuch, the Books of Moses). Suddenly, things begin to fall from the roof.

Things begin to fall. First dirt and dust sifts down. Pretty soon Jesus can’t even tell his story. Everyone is looking up at the roof, and by now large chunks of things are falling on them. People scramble and cover their heads. And then the roof opens up. Jesus looks up there where there are these four guys looking down, probably pretty proud of themselves. What a great opportunity! They have been able to engage in an act of vandalism and do a good deed, a mizpah, at the same time. It just doesn’t get any better than that!

Before Jesus can say anything, the four guys are lowering a fifth guy down into the house right in front of Jesus. They lean down as far as they can, and then pass him to those in the house.

Jesus is amazed at what he sees. Mark observes, “When he saw their faith . . . .” Not the faith of the paralyzed man. He is marveling at the faith of the four guys who carried him through town and ripped up the roof. What a risk they took! “When he saw their faith, he said to the man, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.’”

Somehow, Jesus understands that what is paralyzing this man is an overwhelming sense of guilt. There may be fear also, but guilt apparently plays a major role. He is so scared and so guilty, that he cannot even move. Jesus understands that the only way for the man to be healed is for him to feel a sense of grace and forgiveness. He is making a connection between the physical and the spiritual. He turns to the paralyzed man and says, “Take up your mat and walk!”

The man stands up. And takes his mat. And walks out of the house. People are in shock. The crowd gathered around the house saw the man carried up onto the roof, and now they see him walking out the door. They are excited and amazed, and they shout, “We never saw anything like this!” Which is the only proper response to the church in action. When the church is really the church, when we are really being the people God has called us to be, the only proper response is, “We’ve never seen anything like this!” It is always amazing to believers and non-believers alike.

When we look at the church, we often take a whole lot of things for granted. But I will have to say to you, there have been many times in our life together here, when I have looked at what has gone on and said, “I’ve never seen anything like this!” And I suspect that others of you have said the very same thing. To see God’s grace among us is always amazing.

What are the points of the story?

First, we shouldn’t miss the most obvious point. If you want to preserve your roof, you need to build a ramp, or an elevator, or provide some other access. If you don’t let persons with disabilities in through the door, God may find another way. And the other way may not be as comfortable for you. We can apply this same point to other parts of our lives. Whenever we block someone or something out, God may find another way.

The central point is almost as obvious. The take home message is this: if you are not on the stretcher, then you ought to be carrying it. At a Bible study, we were talking about whether in our understanding of God’s grace there are “shoulds.” Does God speak to us in terms of “should” and “ought”? Or are those words an implicit denial of God’s grace?

Certainly, we ought to be careful in our use of “should” and “ought.” But let me try to explain what I mean when I say that if you are not on the stretcher, then you ought to be carrying it. If I don’t need to be carried, then I need to grab a corner and pick up somebody else.

A word of warning. There are in this life what I would call “pathological helpers,” people who define their own self-worth and the worth of others in solely in terms of their utilitarian value as helpers. If they cannot help, then they feel they have no worth, and they tend to help even those who don’t want to be helped. They help people who don’t want to do things, to do the things that the helper believes the helpee ought to do. If you have ever fallen victim to such a helper, then you know what I am talking about.

But even with that caution, who are the happiest and healthiest people in the story? The guys that carry the mat have to be the happiest people in the story. And they have to be the healthiest people in the story. We cannot be carried and be healthy. If we are carried long enough, eventually our muscles atrophy.

The healthiest and happiest people in this life are those who are able to help others. And we know that in our own experience. The “should” is not because if you don’t help you are naughty. The “should” is because this is what God calls us to do and to be. We are called to be the church in action.

There is another side to this. The other side is that every single one of us has times when he or she needs to be carried. There is not one of us who will go through our lives without needing to be carried multiple times. We are carried at the beginning of life and we are carried at the end. But we also need to be carried over and over again in between. There are times when we need to be physically carried, and there are times when we need to be emotionally carried.

When we need to be carried, emotionally or physically, and refuse that help, we hurt the whole community of faith. Carrying and being carried should be a gift of grace; a gift for the person who is lifted up and carried, and a gift for the persons who do the carrying. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give to other people is to let them carry us. Not forever. Not if we are able to get up and do it for ourselves. But until we are able to do that.

My grandfather Gibbs lived all of his life on Cape Cod, and he was a marvelously independent old Yankee. He was a helpful person. And for most of his 90-plus years he was a “carrier.” But there came a time at the end of his life, when he was no longer able to do for others or even for himself. One of the greatest gifts he gave to his family and friends was in the way he responded to the help of others.

Everything that anyone did was always “wonderful.” I remember one summer day when Elaine made him corn muffins. “Best muffins I ever had,” he told her. At the end of a summer day, when we were sitting in the yard, as the sun finally went down, he would turn to me and say, “Well Billy, I guess we got all the good we can out of this day.” I have never been a great conversationalist, by he was just grateful for the company and the sunshine. Everything that anyone did was received as if it were an act of overwhelming generosity.

Of all the things he ever did in his life, and all the help he gave to others, perhaps the most important thing he did in his life was to gratefully and gracefully receive the help of others when that time came. God grant that I should have such a spirit in similar circumstances!

There is an emotional and spiritual connection that Jesus wants us to understand. Jesus wants us to be clear that there is a link between the guilt that this man feels and his need for healing. There is an emotional component to his healing.

Forgiveness comes first. Jesus gives that first, because that is his greatest need. In more modern language, we might say that first comes God’s acceptance.

Then comes the challenge. “Stand up. Take the healing that God has given. Be the person God has called you to be.”

If we allow ourselves to act sick when we are not sick, if we allow ourselves to be carried when we don’t need to be carried, if we refuse to carry others, we will not be healthy. It is impossible. If we refuse the challenge to stand up and walk, we won’t be healthy.

We all know examples of people who use their weakness, their illness, to manipulate and control others. We have all experiences that at one time or another. (And my suspicion is that we have all done it at one time or another. But we are less clear about that).

Jesus brings both a word of grace and a challenge. Receive the healing. Get up and walk. Be responsible. For us to be the church, we need to know that we are healthiest and happiest when we are carrying others, when we are lifting folks up. And we need to know that in those times when we need to be lifted up, there are people who will do that for us.

Finally, we need to know that God loves us and accepts us just the way we are. And with that love and acceptance comes a responsibility to take hold of the life that God has given us and live it to the full.    

The Bible: So Misunderstood It's a Sin

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
I Corinthians 13:1-3

John Wesley cited those familiar verses from Paul’s First Letter to the Church in Corinth as the text for his sermon, “On Charity.” In his opening paragraph, Wesley observed that although Christians believe that “All Scripture is inspired by God,” we also know that all texts are not equal. “There are some Scriptures which more immediately commend themselves to every man's [sic] conscience.” And he argues that this passage from First Corinthians is one of the finest texts in the Bible, one that commends itself universally to all persons, regardless of their faith traditions or lack thereof. Then, as he begins to explore the meaning of charity, as it is contained in Paul’s letter, he notes that “charity” is really not the correct translation of the Greek word, “agape,” which is better translated as “love.”

It is a great sermon, one in which Wesley builds on his own conviction that love of God and neighbor is central to Christian faith and that how we live is more important than what we claim to believe. It is one of the sermons that United Methodists claim as foundational to our understanding of Christian faith and doctrine (insofar as Methodists can be said to have doctrines at all).

I thought of Wesley’s sermon as I was reading Kurt Eichenwald’s long essay in the Christmas issue of Newsweek, “The Bible: So Misunderstood It’s a Sin,” and the firestorm of controversy that it set off. It struck me that Wesley’s nuanced view of Scripture and his awareness of the problems with translation were light years ahead of what Eichenwald seems to assume is the perspective of most Christians. And Wesley was not an obscure scholar. He was a popular preacher more than 250 years ago.

I found the Newsweek essay on line after a friend told me about the essay and about the response to it by the defenders of Christianity on the cable news programs. I assumed that I would find myself siding with Eichenwald against the TV theologians.

In a contest of whose position most misrepresented a faithful reading of Scripture, the cable news folks win that one going away. But the Newsweek essay only looks good by comparison to something much worse.

Eichenwald has his own point of view, which he makes clear in the first two paragraphs:

They wave their Bibles at passersby, screaming their condemnations of homosexuals. They fall on their knees, worshipping at the base of granite monuments to the Ten Commandments while demanding prayer in school. They appeal to God to save America from their political opponents, mostly Democrats. They gather in football stadiums by the thousands to pray for the country’s salvation.

They are God’s frauds, cafeteria Christians who pick and choose which Bible verses they heed with less care than they exercise in selecting side orders for lunch. They are joined by religious rationalizers—fundamentalists who, unable to find Scripture supporting their biases and beliefs, twist phrases and modify translations to prove they are honoring the Bible’s words.

There are many flaws in the Eichenwald analysis, but there are two that particularly stand out.

First, he speaks of Fundamentalist, biblical literalists, conservative Christians, and Evangelicals as if those were basically different names for the same group of people. He almost seems at times to assume that he is speaking about all Christians. And he does not distinguish Christians who are politically conservative from those who are theologically conservative.

Second, he criticizes the biblical literalists from the perspective of biblical literalism. He assumes (or appears to assume) that the biblical texts should be interpreted literally and the problem with those the literalists he criticizes is that they are inconsistent.

He says that the Bible “contradicts itself” by interweaving two different narratives of the stories of Noah and the creation. This, of course, is not new information. Scholars have talked about this since the middle of the nineteenth century. Every pastor trained at a major theological school in the past century is familiar with the different sources woven together in the biblical narrative.

Eichenwald misses the point. The reason that that biblical literalism is so problematic is that the Bible is not meant to be read that way. Jesus and Paul did not read the (Hebrew) Scriptures that way, and the writers of the Hebrew Bible did not read the previously written texts that way. It is not a book of history and science. It’s about ultimate meaning. As Marcus Borg points out, it’s not less than literal; it’s more than literal. The problem with literalism is not that it claims too much, but that it misses too much.

Sam Harris and the Sacred Journey

The heavens are telling the glory of God;
and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.
Day to day pours forth speech,
and night to night declares knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words;
their voice is not heard;
yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world.
Psalm 19:1-4

In a recent column in the New York Times, Frank Bruni comments on Sam Harris’s new book, “Waking Up,” which will be published this month by Simon and Schuster.

He focuses on a passage in the middle of the book, where Harris describes an experience that might surprise those who know him as “the country’s most prominent and articulate atheist.”

Harris was in Israel, by the Sea of Galilee, walking where Jesus had walked, and he had what many Christians would describe as a religious experience. Harris writes: “If I were a Christian, I would undoubtedly have interpreted this experience in Christian terms. I might believe that I had glimpsed the oneness of God or been touched by the Holy Spirit.”

It was “an afternoon on the northwestern shore of the Sea of Galilee, atop the mount where Jesus is believed to have preached his most famous sermon,” Harris writes. “As I gazed at the surrounding hills, a feeling of peace came over me. It soon grew to a blissful stillness that silenced my thoughts. In an instant, the sense of being a separate self — an ‘I’ or a ‘me’ — vanished.”

Bruni asks, “Had Harris at last found God? And is ‘Waking Up’ a stop-the-presses admission — an epiphany — that he slumbered and lumbered through the darkness for too long?”

No, Bruni explains, Harris is asking a profound question which is seldom considered, “The question is this: Which comes first, the faith or the feeling of transcendence? Is the former really a rococo attempt to explain and romanticize the latter, rather than a bridge to it? Mightn’t religion be piggybacking on the pre-existing condition of spirituality, a lexicon grafted onto it, a narrative constructed to explain states of consciousness that have nothing to do with any covenant or creed?”

My question for Bruni and Harris is, “Is this a trick question?”

Of course, the experience precedes the description of the experience. How could it be otherwise? And yes, religion is precisely the language we use to describe our experiences of transcendence and wonder. To speak in Christian terms, when we read the Bible, we are reading about how our spiritual ancestors experienced transcendence.

Explaining his position in a phone call with Bruni, Harris said, “You can have spiritual experience and understand the most thrilling changes in human consciousness in a context that’s secular and universal and not freighted with dogma.” Commenting on the conversation, Bruni writes, “It was a kind of discussion that I wish I heard more of, and that people should be able to have with less fear of being looked upon as heathens.”

Harris is right; you can have those conversations outside of a religious frame of reference. But it is also true that the church is a place where those conversations are encouraged and nurtured. We don’t think of our context as secular, of course, but we do reflect on spiritual experience and “the most thrilling changes in human consciousness in a context that’s universal . . . and not freighted with dogma.” At least that’s what we try to do.

The subtitle for Harris’s book is “A Guide to Spirituality Without Religion.” Many Americans, Bruni observes, “are looking for a different kind of scripture, for prophets purged of doctrine, for guides across the vast landscape between faithlessness and piety . . . .”

Isn’t that the task of the church, to guide people across the vast landscape between faithlessness and piety? Our goal is not to move people from a place called “faithlessness” to a place called “piety,” but to help each other recognize that the journey itself is sacred. This is true, not only in those high moments, beside the Sea of Galilee, when we walk where Jesus walked, but in everyday life when, as the Psalmist observed, The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge.

Bill O'Reilly, Dan Savage, and Bible Thumpers

For this reason, though I am bold enough in Christ to command you to do your duty, yet I would rather appeal to you on the basis of love—and I, Paul, do this as an old man, and now also as a prisoner of Christ Jesus. I am appealing to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I have become during my imprisonment. Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful both to you and to me. I am sending him, that is, my own heart, back to you. 
Philemon 1:8-12 

Recently on “The O’Reilly Factor,” Bill O’Reilly commented that in the debate over marriage equality, the strong arguments were all on the side of same sex marriage. They just want to be treated like everyone else in American, he said. “That’s a strong argument.” By contrast, he noted that all the opponents can do is “thump their Bibles.” And that, he opined, is not a good argument.

Not that long ago, Bill O’Reilly was criticizing those who had shifted toward supporting equal marriage for what he termed “pandering” to public opinion. And he mocked those who said that their perspectives were “evolving.” His own shift, if that is what it is, has been much more abrupt. And it represents a seismic shift in the argument.

The public sentiment in favor of equal marriage is growing at an amazing rate. And that is a very good thing.

But what is not a good thing is that the Bible has been “thumped” from both sides.

Opponents misuse it, and supporters ignore it or denigrate it.

A friend posted a quotation from Dan Savage that is indicative of how the Bible has been dismissed in the debate. Addressing a high school group in Washington State, Savage declared:

“The shortest book in the New Testament is a letter from Paul to a Christian slave owner about owning his Christian slave. And Paul doesn't say, 'Christians don't own people.' Paul talks about how Christians own people.... the Bible got the easiest moral question that humanity has ever faced wrong: slavery. What are the odds that the Bible got something as complicated as human sexuality wrong? One hundred percent."

In spite of the fact that the Bible does not condemn slavery, at least not consistently, and there are many more verses condoning slavery than there are condemning it, we need to put that in historical perspective. Nearly two millennia after the last biblical writer wrote the last verse in the Bible, the framers of our constitution “got the easiest moral question that humanity has ever faced wrong.” If Jefferson and his colleagues were wrong two hundred years ago, it’s not surprising that Paul was wrong two thousand years ago. We should also note that the “slaves” in Paul’s time were more like indentured servants than the slaves kept by the Founders.

But wait, there’s more.

Paul, like Jesus, was a radical egalitarian. In his letter to Philemon, he is appealing for the release of Onesimus. He hopes that Philemon will do this, out of a sense of Christian faith, rather than under compulsion, because he feels Paul’s appeal as a command. But one way or the other, he wants Onesimus freed and embraced as “a brother.” Paul understand the early Christian church to be an egalitarian community, and a model for what the whole world will eventually become when the Kingdom of God is realized “on earth as it is in heaven.”

John Wesley, who was deeply committed to biblical Christianity, was a life-long opponent of slavery. Wesley knew the many verses that condoned slavery, but he also saw that the whole thrust of the Bible, from the Exodus to Paul’s letters, was toward freedom and liberation.

While the founders were enshrining slavery in the Constitution, Wesley was condemning it. In his last letter, written to William Wilberforce, he writes: “O be not weary of well doing! Go on, in the name of God and in the power of his might, till even American slavery (the vilest that ever saw the sun) shall vanish away before it.”

Wesley did not oppose slavery in spite of his faith, but because of it. In the same way, we cannot develop an authentically Christian perspective on equal marriage by appealing to a few scattered verses of Scripture. We need to look for the broad themes and principles.