COLUMN: Christians are confused about commonalities
Writing about Christianity, and perhaps alluding to the religious ferment that swept Christian churches in the early 1900s, British journalist G.K. Chesterton observed rather poignantly that, “The only good argument against Christianity is Christians.”
My Hindu cronies might agree.
“It’s all much too complicated,” one of them pointed out at a backyard get-together earlier this summer. “You say you all believe in the godliness of Jesus Christ, yet you squabble over the tiniest of things!”
“Such as?” I pressed.
“Well, what’s all this business about Mormons having to baptize Christians to guarantee their salvation? Haven’t they already been saved by virtue of their Christian baptisms?” he asked, matter-of-factly.
“Oh, but it’s a question of doctrine,” I clarified. “Mormons believe the Father, Son and Holy Spirit are three separate divine beings, rather than one God existing within three persons of one substance, which is the belief of other Christian denominations. So, although both baptismal practices involve the same language and the use of holy water, the meaning behind the ritual is entirely different.”
“You see,” my friend said, shaking his head and smiling, “That just proved my point. It’s too intellectually convoluted. One person or three; why should it matter? When you pray to God, you pray to God. Period.”
I was about to return the salvo, but I must admit, he had me.
In all my years as a Catholic in India, I had never seriously pondered the nature of the Godhead. It didn’t matter. I found comfort in knowing there was some entity to invoke in prayer. I never prayed to a Trinitarian God; I prayed to God.
We all did.
At my Roman Catholic missionary school, every student – Catholic and non-Catholic – recited the Lord’s Prayer dutifully each morning before classes began. In our minds, we were praying to God. Not a doctrinally defined deity, but some perfect, omnipotent, omniscient ruler of the universe. My Hindu friends had no trouble embracing this god. They just added the Christian entity to their already extensive list of deities.
Yet, within the Christian world, we bicker about theological differences and shy away from participating in the rituals of denominations other than our own.
Catholics quibble about the Mormon idea of God, Mormons criticize all of creedal Christianity, Calvinistic Baptists argue that God exercises sovereignty over the universe by decreeing in advance everything that must come to pass – on and on, the nitpicky specifics of our Christian worldviews divvy us up into warring fragments of what should ideally be a united Christian church.
And it makes us – Christians – seem like a dissonant cacophony; a “complicated bunch,” as my friend put it.
I sometimes wonder what Christ would think of the present state of affairs were he to make a surprise visit. My guess is he’d be utterly dismayed.
Now, don’t get me wrong. There is certainly some value in all this division.
Writing in The Democratization of American Christianity, University of Notre Dame history professor Nathan Hatch contended that the process has actually strengthened Christianity’s hold on American society.
“By allowing the faith to permutate in dozens of ways, the process of democratization has assured that virtually every group can find some version of the gospel to which it can adhere,” Hatch wrote.
That may be so, but sectarianism is denominationalism gone awry.
Narrow interpretations of Christian doctrine have fueled the rise of religious chauvinism and fundamentalism that has led to suspicion, fear, anger and separatism. In Northern Ireland, sectarianism has caused the deaths of thousands. This is mindless religion and it must be stopped. As a “Body of Christ,” we ought to recognize the value in reunification.
I’m not necessarily suggesting that we abandon our distinct religious identities overnight and merge into one homogenous whole, but rather that we consider a brand of unity in diversity based on agreement to differ. For starters, let’s not make judgments about who goes to Paradise based on doctrinal differences.
In the end, as Chesterton wrote, religion ought to be about love, not theory. That’s food for thought.
Leon D’Souza is a senior majoring in print journalism. Comments may be sent to leon@cc.usu.edu.