When "Christian" is Our Main Modifier

Listening for the Heartbeat of God: A Celtic Christian Spirituality, Part IV

I’m not sure when I first began to notice it in myself and others, but at some point, I became aware that many of us who identify as followers of Jesus use the word “Christian” as our main modifier in describing people. For instance, a person might say, “I go to a Christian dentist,” or “a Christian hairstylist,” or refer to “my Christian neighbor,” as if this distinction sums up who this person is and what they’re all about.

It occurred to me that this is a case in point of the final duality in this series: US/THEM.

This duality has become even more pronounced because most of us (including myself) aren’t satisfied with simply sorting people into the two categories of Christian/Non-Christian. Oh, no—we take it a step further, quickly explaining what “kind” of “Christian” we are, I am, she is, they are. This is a form of tribalism, a propensity that goes as far back as the beginning of human history! Humans can’t seem to help themselves, always seeking a coded means to label the other in an effort to clarify who is in and who is out; who’s my friend and who’s my enemy; who’s like me and who’s different from me.

In my study of Celtic Christian spirituality, I’ve come to the conclusion that this human tendency is lazy, unintelligent, and self-serving—and it’s been reinforced by the Christian faith we inherited from our European forefathers. 

I began this series while reading about early Christian Church history in Listening for the Heartbeat of God by J. Philip Newell—about the fateful decision made at the Synod of Whitby (6th C) when the Roman mission in Britain became the custodian of Christian faith—a faith that we Western Christians inherited and have co-opted, even though mostly unconsciously. The US/THEM duality that emerged has a direct relationship to what happened as a result of this moment in history.

To recap, a conflict ensued between the Roman mission and the Celtic mission, which led to a decision to grant the Roman mission sole authority over the doctrine, sacraments, and practices of the early Church. One of the signature beliefs of the imperial Church was that only the baptized “belonged” to the Christian family. Those not baptized were considered heathen, outsiders, the unredeemed. In other words, THEM!

Celtic Christians had a very different perspective toward their neighbors. They believed, as I wrote about in my last post, that every person possessed the image and light of God, albeit buried by sin and darkness. So if a neighbor did what was undeniably good and pleasing to God, then it was the spirit of Christ within her or him that instructed the action, even if the person was unaware. Celts saw Christ and the Church as liberator rather than custodian of who was in and who was out!

“the ministry of the Church is to liberate and free the goodness of God that is already at the very heart of all life, yearning, as St. Paul would say, for its release. The Church becomes liberator rather than custodian of salvation. It provides the key that gives access to the treasure of God’s life instead of being the source of that richness; the treasure is already present, though hidden, waiting to be unlocked, in every person.” Listening for the Heartbeat of God, P. 18-19

Celtic Christians lacked the suspicion that was and still is commonplace toward those not modified by the adjective “Christian.” As a result, they saw and summoned the light of Christ from within one another. Rather than creating hard and fast divisions between people, they were open to all people-on-the-way who carried the wisdom and goodness of their Creator within them. God is the Life within all life, they often said.

It strikes me that our common habit of using “Christian” as a primary modifier and the way we sort people is a horribly lazy, unintelligent, and self-serving inclination.

• It’s lazy because if we’re only looking for that one trait to tell us all there is to know about a person, we really miss the fullness of their personhood—both the dark and light! We’re no longer curious about the individual, seeking to know his or her story, expecting to find light—a light that this particular human bears witness to, even if unconsciously! Assigning this label to others can also blind us to the darkness that is present in them; in all people, in all Christians--information that is critical to recognize if we are to trust one another and build real relationships!

• Our tendency to size people up based on the modifier Christian/Non-Christian is also unintelligent. It oversimplifies who they are and what they stand for. People are far more complex than this! Have we not witnessed this same bias in the countless memes we come across on social media—political leaders represented by labels and generalized caricatures rather than an honest evaluation of their real substance, character, and policies!

• Finally, whether we know it or not, the main reason we sort people into these “neat and tidy” categories is self-serving. If I can label you Christian—at least my kind of Christian—then you’re part of my group and, as a result, I feel stronger, more supported, less alone, more safe. If, however, I label you as Non-Christian or not my kind of Christian, then I can turn you into an enemy, an “other,” a “THEM.” It’s my way of protecting myself from being threatened by your difference; contaminated by your beliefs, your practices, your sensibilities.

Just this morning, I was reading the daily lectionary and came to Acts 10, the story of Cornelius, a gentile and centurion in the Roman army, who was a generous lover of God. An angel paid him a visit and announced, “Your prayers and your compassionate acts are like a memorial offering to God” (Acts 10:4). The next day, the Apostle Peter had a vision and went to meet Cornelius. Peter said to him,

“I really am learning that God doesn’t show partiality to one group of people over another. Rather, in every nation, whoever worships him and does what is right is acceptable to him” (Acts 10:34-35).  

These are the sensibilities of early Celtic Christians, as well! Not surprisingly, this way of seeing begins by listening to the real heartbeat of God. It also requires defrocking the authoritative images of God we’ve learned from our forebears—images of a God who at his core is judge, rather than lover. In fact, God shows no partiality toward US or THEM. So, why should we?