can i be a christian and not be part of the church?
My professor asked this question toward the end of class last Tuesday. My hand immediately shot up to say something to the effect of, "yes please, let's try to answer this question." I know it isn't that simple. I know he was trying to get at the complexity of the question and the nuance of the answer. My point in making that statement was that this question is relevant for me.
A little background: in 2014, I left the congregation I had devoted myself to, the church I found my family in. I left because this organization is abusive. Let me be clear, I am not calling the individual people involved abusive. I felt abused by the systems and structures that are put in place, that individuals are forced to adhere to. It wasn't until I left that I realized just how oppressive this environment was. It wasn't until I left that I began to feel free enough, safe enough, to be honest with myself. It wasn't until I left that I was able to see myself for who I have been created to be. I have been in seminary since 2012, and having that journey coincide with leaving church has been difficult to say the least. I have felt my faith expand and open in ways that some deem unacceptable. Simply setting foot on campus is an act of courage for me most days.
So this question means something to me.
Hozier, an Irish musician, released a song called "Take Me to Church" in 2013. It deeply resonated with me at the time, and still does in rich and challenging ways. His lyrics can offer a powerful reflection on the meaning of the Church and the ways that it can limit and even harm those of us who do not quite fit the mold. I'm using some of his lyrics to guide this conversation.
This is hungry work
This is a question about immanence. This question has present reality. You can make it about who gets into heaven, but you would be wrong to do so. It is a bodily question and it must deal with all of our lives: sex, pleasure, mental illness, aging, isolation, poverty, disability, racism, and our need for each other and the earth. If it does not deal with these things, it is incomplete, dishonest, hopeless even. If the gospel does not speak to these things, then being a "Christian" is irrelevant.
My church offers no absolutes
"Church" is often associated with a set of beliefs, doctrines, dogmas. If you do not assent intellectually to these "truths," you don't get in. Sometimes these beliefs are explicitly stated in a Statement of Faith, and sometimes they are implicit in our attitudes, actions, decisions, worship. Either way, they function as a filter, those who differ are weeded out. The second approach is particularly harmful because it makes people feel that they don't belong without it having to be directly stated. There's no accountability.
If there is anything post-modernism has taught us, it's that our categories - our absolutes - are limited. So perhaps this question isn't about the absolutes, whether we fit into the binary of yes-no or in-out. Perhaps this is a question about belonging. Perhaps it is asking "is there space for me, my body, my experience, in your theology?" Do we find God in dogmatic assent or do we find God in the encounter between two or more bodies who bring their authenticity with love and reciprocity?
No masters or kings when the ritual begins
Maybe the sacraments would help in considering this question. Baptism and Eucharist are the two primary sacraments that form the Protestant life. The specifics of the practice of each vary between denominations and congregations, but the basics carry through.
Baptism is a mark of conversion, an act of participation, an initiation into community. Christians celebrate this moment with water, as Jesus did. But baptism exists in many forms and in many communities. It is a rite of passage. Baptism is about belonging. I experienced a baptismal moment the first time I stepped into a queer night club. Christians do not own the idea of Baptism. Our guiding question is asking whether my Christian baptism and my queer baptism can co-exist. It is asking whether a Christian baptism and a disabled baptism can co-exist. Does all of me get to belong?
Eucharist is a communion of the faithful across space and time. It is the sharing of a meal, a meal that invokes the presence of Jesus and all that entails. But what does our Eucharist mean if it does not feed the poor, if someone is left out, if someone is denied access (either implicitly or explicitly)? The Eucharist is an equalizer, or at least it should be. We participate in the body and blood of Christ in the same way as the saints through the ages, and on equal footing. This is what we proclaim, but if my body does not fit, if you won't hear my voice, am I really equal?
Good God, let me give you my life
A set of criteria for who is in or out would be easy. But life is not easy. Faith is not easy. Things are never that simple. We have been arguing from the beginning about the right way to do and be, but we'll never have the answers. What we can do is love, make space, invite, celebrate. It is so easy to do these things with people who look like, sound like, feel like, and agree with us. But at no point is that what we are called to. At every turn we are called out of our comfort zones. We are called to welcome the outsider in. There is no line between being in and being out anymore.
Instead of asking "can I be a Christian and not be part of the Church?" perhaps a more helpful question is "how am I limiting access to belonging?"
