Category Archives: Progressive Theology

Orthodoxy or Progressivism: The Choice all Christian People Must Now Make

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The Change

The decisive choice facing Christian people today is not picking a church based on worship styles or children’s programs. Nor are the most pressing decisions occasioned by the traditional differences among Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Orthodox Churches. For sure, each of these great traditions still places before us distinct doctrinal positions. But in the past, one could assume that with all their differences each preserved the essential Christian gospel and a faithful vision of the life of discipleship, what C.S. Lewis called “Mere Christianity.” But lately that confidence has been shattered. Now every believer in whatever tradition must decide between orthodox voices and progressive ones within their tradition.

The Choice

The orthodox voices call us to listen to all of Scripture, deal honestly with the apostolic teaching, and pay attention to the faithful of all times. They urge us to follow the narrow way of obedience and sacrifice. Orthodoxy warns us not to listen to the voice of the world, which often resonates with our lower natures. In contrast, progressive Christianity values liberal social change more than personal repentance. Whatever deference it gives to Christian language, progressivism is not animated by the spirit of obedience. It views miracles as parables and Christian teaching as wisdom for a less enlightened age. Biblical morality is useful only insofar as it contributes to personal happiness. The true authority for progressivism is subjective feeling validated by the spirit of the times. Its religion like all idols has been crafted by human hands.

My Growing and Shrinking Family

I am a life-long member of a fellowship of believers that reaches back into the early 19th century. I treasure it and remain committed to its central aims…that is, of being simple New Testament Christians without too many “addons.” For most of my life I’ve respected believers from other traditions, but I never felt the desire to join one of their denominations. And I still do not.

But within the past few years I’ve realized that I have more in common with orthodox Roman Catholic, Global Methodist, Orthodox Presbyterian, Greek Orthodox, Baptist, Bible Church Evangelical, Pentecostal, or almost any other group of orthodox believers than with the progressives in my own tradition. I share with the progressive wing a common history, traditions, institutions, heroes and villains, but sadly, we are no longer led by the same spirit. Our diverging paths grow further apart with every step.

Evangelicals: The Group Progressives Love to Hate

Progressives love to hate evangelicalism. The reasons for this antipathy are clear. Progressives lean to the political left; American evangelicals lean right. Progressives adopt a permissive view of sex, gender, and marriage.  Evangelicals hold to traditional sexual morality and marriage. Progressives are doctrinally liberal while evangelicals are orthodox. Most progressives are former evangelicals embarrassed by their roots and eager to demonstrate their enlightened credentials.

Pan-Orthodoxy

Evangelicals are orthodox but not all orthodox Christians feel at home in American evangelicalism. It’s too emotional, entrepreneurial, doctrinally shallow, political, culturally narrow, etc. I suggest that orthodox believers need not feel locked into a choice between American evangelicalism and progressive Christianity. Orthodox Christianity was not born with the American evangelical movement. It can be traced back to the New Testament through all the great traditions, despite their cultural differences and distinct doctrinal emphases. It’s in that line of true faith, that spirit of obedience, where I feel most at home. I am brother to all my orthodox brothers and sisters wherever they worship the Lord Jesus. I stand with you. We can work out or bear patiently our differences as long as we share that loyalty. Let’s find each other and stand together “to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to God’s holy people” (Jude 3).

Is Liberation Theology Christian?

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I am taking a break from my essays on higher education to ask, “Is Liberation Theology Christian?” A few years ago, I would have answered this question, “It depends.” Perhaps that was because I knew it only from books. But now my first impulse is to say “No!” because I find myself surrounded by “liberation” theologians, and I know firsthand where they are coming from. It does not matter what they focused on in graduate school—biblical studies, church history, systematic theology or practical theology—everything is about liberating the oppressed. They’ve multiplied like rabbits. It seems that within the past 10 years, every theology graduate program in America decided that the only subject worth studying is oppression and liberation. Everybody is a social ethicist and a political activist. And you advance your academic career by discovering new classes of oppressed people and ever more subtle ways oppressors oppress their victims.

Before I go further into my complaint, I should probably define liberation theology. Liberation theology is a general term for any system of theological thought that privileges “liberation” as the lens through which it views all the topics usually studied in Christian theology. It evaluates every theological utterance by its tendency to oppress or liberate some group of people. There are no neutral theological statements! Everything is political, and everyone has an agenda. The purpose of liberation theology is to critique theologies that justify oppression and construct theologies that justify the efforts of designated oppressed groups to liberate themselves. It is not to listen to the word of God, repeat it to the church, and obey it.

What kind of oppression does liberation theology have in mind? Not sin, death, and the Devil! These three are the classic oppressors of humankind from which traditional Christianity sought liberation through the gracious saving action of the Father, Son, and Spirit. In liberation theology, the oppressors are human beings and the social structures they create. Liberation theologians work to expose and critique the capitalism, patriarchy, white racism, homophobia, colonialism, transphobia, etc., that they see permeating American society. Liberation theology focuses on political liberation. And it draws on the socio-political analysis of Karl Marx and his contemporary followers often called neo-Marxists. They divide the world into the oppressor classes and the oppressed classes. It’s a very simple analysis of a very complicated world. And from this simple analysis liberation theologians derive a simple theology that divides people into good and bad, guilty and innocent based on group identity. The oppressors can make no defense and the oppressed can give no offense.

What gives these liberation theologies the appearance of being Christian? The simple answer to this question is that they argue that the God of the Hebrew prophets and Jesus Christ always took the side of the oppressed. Liberation theologians select such prooftexts as the Exodus story, some of Jesus’s statements, some of his interactions with the poor and rich, and a few other isolated statements in the Old and New Testaments. They sprinkle these quotes within an already complete system of social and political thought derived from Karl Marx and lead the reader to leap to the conclusion that the whole system springs from the essence of Christianity. But Christianity is completely superfluous to the doctrine. It is added to tickle Christian ears and, frankly, to deceive them.

Why do I say that liberation theology is not Christian? (1) Read any liberation theology you please—feminist, Black, womanist, gay, queer, and Latin American—and you will always find that the subjective experience of these groups is considered a divine revelation as authoritative, if not more so, than Scripture. No reading of Scripture, no matter how obvious to the ordinary reader, will be allow to subvert the “truth” of the subjective experience of oppression. But in any theology worthy of the designation “Christian,” Scripture must be acknowledged as the norm of all theological doctrine and ethics, and to reject this norm is to cease to be Christian. To continue posing as Christian is to lie and deceive. (2) Liberation theology selects one theme within Scripture—liberation—and subordinates everything else to it. Liberation theology does not therefore present the fulness of the gospel or the apostolic teaching; and this distortion through omission is a textbook definition of heresy.

A Time for Orthodoxy (Part Four)

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Today I will conclude the series urging anti-creedal churches to rethink their opposition to explicit creeds, confessions of faith, and statements of belief.

A Little More History

The Early and Patristic Church

Creeds, confessions of faith and statements of belief served different purposes in different eras of church history. Beginning with the council of Jerusalem (Acts 15), early and patristic church leaders met on occasion to deal with controversies. They sometimes issued decrees clarifying controverted issues and condemning erroneous views. For example, the decrees (creeds) from the first two ecumenical Councils, Nicaea and Constantinople (I) built on the list of truths articulated in the early rule of faith. The Councils found it necessary to clarify certain disputed points and condemn certain assertions made by the Arian party, which asserted that the Son of God was not truly God but the first and greatest creature. Wisely, these Councils made no attempt to articulate everything Christians believe and practice. Not only would this have been impossible, it would have engendered fruitless controversies. They left all these things implicit in the tradition of worship and the practical life of the church.

I see much wisdom in the patristic church’s practice. The Christian faith cannot be articulated in all its fulness and richness. As philosopher of science Michael Polanyi observed, “we know more than we can say.” If the church tries to say everything it knows, it will complicate what is simple and oversimplify what is complicated. But there are times when the church must articulate some piece of its tacit knowledge and condemn the worse distortions of its faith.

The Protestant Reformation

When Lutheran, Reformed, Anglican and other branches of the Protestant Reformation organized themselves into separate bodies, they promulgated confessions of faith to clarify for the world what they believed and taught and how they differed from the Roman Catholic Church and each other. Among the earliest of these are the Lutheran Augsburg Confession of Faith (1530), the Reformed First (1536) and Second (1566) Helvetic Confessions of Faith, and the Anglican Thirty-Nine Articles of the Church of England (1563). These documents were much longer than the Nicene Creed and covered a more extensive catalogue of doctrines. Nevertheless, the Protestant confessions did not attempt to articulate the full depth and riches of the Christian faith. Every later Protestant body explicitly or implicitly followed the same rule.

The proliferation of Protestant confessions of faith was driven by necessity. Given the separation from the Roman Catholic Church and the disputes among themselves Protestants had to make clear how they differed from the RCC and each other. This task remains necessary even for contemporary anti-creedal churches. How else may anti-creedal churches let the world know that they differ from other churches by rejecting creeds?

Contemporary Independent, Community, and Bible Churches

In this list I include every church whose primary leadership and identity rests in the local congregation. Instead of a Protestant confession of faith, they often list their beliefs on their website or in printed material under the rubric “What we Believe.” This list usually includes basic teachings common to all orthodox churches (Trinity, Christ’s Deity, Atonement, Resurrection, etc.), some that are central to Protestantism in general (justification by faith), some that are characteristic of the parent denomination, and some that are important to the identity of that particular congregation. Most of these statements are not too long, at most 20 points. Like the Patristic church and the churches of the Reformation, community and Bible churches do not attempt to put into words everything they teach and practice. You learn these things, if at all, by long years of participation in the life of the church.

The Present Challenge: Progressive “Christianity”

As I explained in the first essay in this series, my faith was nurtured in a conservative wing of the Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement. That is where I serve today and expect to serve for the rest of my life. We like to think we preserve some unique insights within a generally Protestant tradition. To the outside observer, however, we look like most other low church Protestant groups. We cherish the canonical scriptures and adhere (informally) to the orthodox ecumenical faith set out in the ecumenical creeds. But we wished to be guided by Scripture alone apart from detailed Protestant confessions of faith. Our original aim was to protest against the use of minor theological differences to exclude and condemn other believers. We wished to reclaim in practice the biblical doctrine of the unity of the church.

A Different World

Today, however, our anti-creedal stance has made us less able to assert biblical/orthodox teaching even in the most fundamental areas, which in the past we took for granted. Our hesitancy to assert doctrinal truth has opened the door to heresies that never came knocking in the past. We face a decisive moment. Will we assert and enforce the biblical/orthodox faith by making use of the authorities of scripture, tradition, and office or succumb to the spirit of the postmodern age in which everyone is their own judge?

Admittedly, I am speaking here of urban and suburban churches. Rural and small-town churches face other issues. What, then, is the challenge urban and suburban SCM and other independent, community, and Bible churches face? Readers of this blog will not be surprised to learn that I think the greatest challenge to the orthodoxy of those churches is the temptation to assimilate to the progressive sector of modern culture.* That is to say, to adopt an easy-going inclusivism that accepts everyone the way they are. No demand for conversion, repentance, or confession! Sexual promiscuity? No problem! Wish us to affirm your LGBTQ+ way of life? Who are we to judge! Your inner self is the measure of your truth! Want to divorce your spouse because you found someone else? We understand…God wants you to be happy! Abortion…well, at least you struggled with the decision. You think everybody will be saved? Makes sense…God loves everyone! Want a social justice Jesus? So do we!

A Time to Stand

I am speaking to those church leaders and planters who want to preserve the biblical/orthodox faith. I urge you to follow the example of the early and patristic church. State clearly what your church believes and practices. Make it concise, but include the ecumenical faith, other basic teachings, and do not neglect the beliefs challenged by the progressive heresy: affirm the positive teaching of Scripture on these subjects, but also make clear your rejection of the progressive principle of religious and moral relativism and the specific progressive heresies mentioned above.

*Use the search function on my blog to look for essays that deal with “progressive Christianity.”

Conclusion: Seminarian Meets Progressive Bishop for a Third Time

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Setting: Our anxious seminarian returns for a third visit with the progressive bishop. The bishop’s office door is open. They make eye contact.

Bishop: Come on in. I’m just finishing my midmorning coffee. Would you like a cup?

Seminarian: No thanks. I’ve had two cups already.

Bishop: What’s on your mind today?

Seminarian: Since we last spoke, I had a conversation with one of my former professors. Our paths crossed quite by accident, and he asked me how things were going. A few minutes into the conversation, I decided to risk telling him about my doubts and my conversations with you. (I didn’t disclose your identity.)

Bishop: Oh really? And what did he say?

Seminarian: I imagined I would hear the same old assertions you’d expect from an uncritical traditionalist. You know: The Bible is the inspired, infallible Word of God, heresy is insidious, and doubt is spiritually dangerous. But he challenged me in ways I did not expect.

Bishop: How so?

Seminarian: Well, in essence he asked me to explain how progressives can justify calling a religion “Christianity” that contains no authoritative Bible, no incarnation, no miracles, no resurrection, no supernatural revelation, and no resurrection of the dead. He urged me to consider what is left of the faith documented in the New Testament when all of these elements are excluded.

Bishop: And what did you say?

Seminarian: Actually, I didn’t know what to say. Oh, I remembered your explanation: that is that the supernatural elements of the New Testament are not essential to the Christian message and that the miracle stories teach important moral and spiritual lessons in a metaphorical way. But I could not bring myself to say this.

Bishop: Why not?

Seminarian: In that moment I couldn’t think of a way to defend the idea that the supernatural elements of the New Testament message are superficial features that can be removed without changing its essential nature. When I think about how the gospels tell the story of Jesus, I doubt that the gospel writers would agree with progressive Christianity’s view of Jesus. They seem to think that it is very important that Jesus healed the sick, raised the dead, exorcised the demonic forces, that his death was part of a divine plan to save the world, and that God raised him from the dead. Paul, John, Peter, and the writers of Acts and Hebrews, while viewing Jesus’s ethical teaching as authoritative for the community, place his divine nature, atoning death, and resurrection at the center of their message. In fact, the first generation of Christians seems to view the Christian gospel primarily as a message of supernatural salvation from sin, death, and the devil.

Bishop: You’re scaring me! Let’s think this through. Perhaps the gospel writers, Acts, Paul, Peter, and the writer of Hebrews would not have agreed completely with progressive Christianity, if they had encountered it. I don’t deny this. But keep in mind that they did not have access to the discoveries made by modern natural science or the moral progress made by modern liberation movements. Progressive Christianity developed by incorporating these new perspectives into a Christian framework. Surely, we should not view those elements in the New Testament that are based on ignorance, superstition and prejudice as of the essence of religion! In removing such superstitions, we actually purify the original Christianity and make it better.

Seminarian: You misunderstand. I didn’t say I changed my mind. Still, I think my former teacher asks some good questions. If, as you admit, progressive and “purified” Christianity would be unacceptable to the original apostles and likely to Jesus himself, why is it legitimate to present it to the world as authentic Christianity? The first generation of evangelists proclaimed Christianity as a message of supernatural salvation from sin, death, and the devil whereas progressive churches present Christianity as a message of humanly-achieved social justice. New Testament Christians worshiped Jesus as the Messiah of Israel and risen Lord and Savior whereas progressive Christians admire Jesus as a purely human champion of the oppressed. I have to admit that I have a hard time thinking of a Christianity stripped of all supernatural elements as having much in common with its original form. Perhaps it’s time for progressives to admit that progressive Christianity is not Christianity at all but a kind of religious humanism, that is, progressive culture infused with vague spirituality expressed in traditional Christian language understood metaphorically. In any case, before I enter a career as a clergyman in a progressive church, I’d like to get clear on this matter. Maybe I would be better suited for a career in political advocacy, social services, or education.

Bishop: I think I see now what’s troubling you. You haven’t given up your progressive views to return to the supernaturalism of your fundamentalist past. It’s too late for that. You are bothered, instead, by the apparent duplicity of working for secular progressive causes within an institution that presents itself as a Christian church continuous with the historic church all the way back to the apostolic era and that speaks to its members in traditional Christian language—miracles, resurrection, incarnation, the Spirit, the Holy Trinity—but takes it all metaphorically. Right?

Seminarian: Yes. That’s pretty much it. I am attracted to the institution of the church because of the opportunity it affords for influencing society in a progressive direction. But I also recognize that most people that are attracted to progressive churches view them as gentler and more enlightened—but genuinely Christian—alternatives to the harsh fundamentalism of conservative churches. Herein is the dilemma of the progressive clergyman: if we teach the congregation what we really believe—that we do not believe the apostolic faith—most of them would be shocked and would leave our church. We would lose our audience and our influence. On the other hand, in every service when we read the Bible, recite the Nicene Creed, perform baptisms, and celebrate the Eucharist, Christmas, and Easter, we allow the people to believe that we affirm the literal truth of these things when we mean them only as metaphors expressing humanistic aspirations and values. I’m not sure I can do that.

Bishop: We do believe them, just not literally. Think of it this way: we endure the pains of conscience provoked by our duplicity because we love our members. We want them to be happy. Like Jesus Christ in traditional theology, we bear their sins and weaknesses. That is our cross. There is no need to trouble their already troubled lives with further doubts and questions. We ease their troubled consciences by reassuring them that God wants them to be happy. We tell them that they don’t need to follow the Bible’s rules about sex, gender, marriage, and divorce in a legalistic way…if they lead to unhappiness. Pursuing a love that leads to happiness can’t be wrong. Okay, we don’t really know this, but it helps them to hear it. We allow them to believe in miracles and divine providence and to hope for life in heaven after they die. True, we don’t believe. But they do. And without explicitly denying their beliefs, we can channel their moral energy toward the causes of justice, equity, and peace. And that is a good thing, isn’t it?

Seminarian: Humm. I see your logic. But I am still troubled. I may have rejected the supernatural religion I was taught as a child, but there is one thing I can’t shake off from my fundamentalist background. And I thought progressives believed it too. My Sunday school teachers presented Jesus as an example of someone willing to die for the truth rather than tell a lie, even for a good cause, and he reserved his greatest scorn for the religious hypocrites who pretended to be one thing when in their hearts they were another. I gave up the clarity and comfort of my childhood religion because I thought keeping my integrity required it. Now I discover that becoming a successful progressive clergyman demands that I give that up too. I don’t think I can do that.

Bishop: Well, that is your decision to make. Perhaps you have not really thoroughly purged your mind of your fundamentalist upbringing. Maybe we can work on that next time.

Seminarian: I don’t know about that, but I am pretty sure that a religion that can be sustained only by deception and dissimulation can’t be the answer to the world’s problems. Oh, is that the time! It’s almost one o’clock. I need to return to my job.

Bishop: Will I see you again?

Seminarian: I don’t know, but I think not. I will show myself out.

Seminarian Meets Progressive Bishop: Part Two

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Setting: Our confused seminarian returns for a follow-up meeting with the progressive bishop to explore further his professional prospects. The seminarian knocks gently on his mentor’s office door.

Bishop: Come in. Have a seat.

Seminarian: Thanks.

Bishop: How have you been this past week?

Seminarian: I’ve thought a lot about what you said previously. I focused especially on the implications of giving reason and experience authority equal to scripture in determining church teaching. If I understood you correctly, progressives hold that in some cases the conclusions of reason and experience should be preferred above those of scripture, right?

Bishop: Yes. That is correct. But keep in mind that by “the conclusions of reason and experience” progressives are not speaking of private preferences, snap judgments, and speculations. By “reason” we mean the considered conclusions of the scientific community, and by “experience” we mean the insights modern society has attained by listening to the voices of oppressed and marginalized communities.

Seminarian: Okay. Just wanted to be sure I hadn’t misunderstood.

Bishop: Good. What’s on your mind today?

Seminarian: I don’t remember when or how this happened. But recently I realized that I have become suspicious and even skeptical about the supernaturalism that permeates traditional Christianity and, if I’m honest, the Bible itself. Evangelicalism, Roman Catholicism, and Orthodoxy place divine interventions into the ordinary course of nature at the center of their message and practice: incarnation, resurrection, atonement, divine wrath, the devil, conversion as an individual spiritual rebirth, sacraments, a second coming of Jesus, and heaven and hell. But to many people of my generation, these ideas seem unreal, unknowable, and unnecessary—the stuff of myth and legend. In addition, they distract from the essential message of Christianity. As I understand him, Jesus focused on the love of God and love of neighbor, the kingdom of God, peace, and social justice. Why burden this beautiful moral message with demands to believe reports of supernatural acts and miraculous transformations?

Bishop: I hear you. And most progressives share your concerns. But you need to be careful. First, don’t exaggerate the problems caused by the supernatural elements in the Bible. Even if these “supernatural” ideas and stories of divine interventions are not literally true, they are part of the Christian story and cannot be removed without loss and offense. As metaphors and symbols, they communicate important beliefs about God and support Jesus’s teaching about love and justice. Apart from these symbols and such religious rituals as baptism, the Eucharist, the divine liturgy, and communal prayer, Christianity would be reduced to an ethical message without grounding or persuasive power. You don’t have to attack or ignore the biblical miracles. There are alternative ways to address your concerns.

Seminarian: Sorry to interrupt…. But something has been bothering me about what you said last week. And you just said it again. At the risk of offending you, it sounds like you are advocating deception. You seem to be advising that I should allow people in my church to keep believing stories that I know are not literally/historically true because I can draw useful lessons from them. Wouldn’t this be treating them as children?

Bishop: You did interrupt! I had anticipated your apprehension—it is a common one—and was just about to address it.

Seminarian: Sorry. It’s just that I keep hearing the voices of my conservative parents and my fundamentalist home church pastor in my head raising the charge of deceitfulness and elitist condescension.

Bishop: You must keep in mind the difference between the church and the academy. Seminaries, divinity schools, and university religious studies departments question tradition and explore alternative theories of theology and religion. That’s the reason they exist. In our academic studies we learn to doubt and think critically about traditional forms of Christianity and to subject them to testing by reason and experience. Studying Christian theology, the Bible and history academically (that is, critically) inevitably raises doubts about the supernaturalism of the Bible and traditional theology. The two attitudes (critical versus believing) are incompatible, for to believe biblical miracles we have to sacrifice reason, and to obey “revealed” moral laws we have to deny the authority of experience.

In contrast to the academy, church life is all about piety, worship, community, and practice. As a minister, you are not obligated to share your academic doubts and critical conclusions with the people. Church attendees can neither understand nor appreciate the rigorous academic study of Christianity. It’s not our task to disabuse them of all their naïve beliefs and literal interpretations of the Bible. We don’t have to tell them bluntly that the stories of Christmas, Easter and Pentecost are not literally true. We can draw good lessons from these and other miracle stories without either denying or affirming their historicity. Most people that attend progressive churches are happy not to hear traditionalist demands for obedience to “revealed” moral rules. They will be perfectly content to hear general platitudes about kindness, love, racial and environmental justice, acceptance of difference, and celebration of diversity. What matters is that we minister to our church by assuring them of God’s acceptance and presence in all circumstances and that we instruct them in the ways of love and justice.

Seminarian: I want to be sure I understand you. Since we know that the supernatural beliefs, taken in a literal sense, are not of the essence of Christianity, we need not feel a sense of urgency to correct our members who innocently hold them? Hence our silence on the literal/historical truth of the incarnation, resurrection, new birth, etc., does not count as deception and elitist condescension but a teaching strategy appropriate to a popular audience?

Bishop: You could put it that way. But I can’t follow up on this right now. I have a staff meeting in ten minutes, and I have to make sure the agenda is in order.

Seminarian: Next time…I do hope you will meet with me again. Next time, I’d like to discuss some of the “supernatural” themes of the Bible and traditional Christianity. I’d like to know how you understand them and deal with them in preaching and teaching.

Bishop: I’d be delighted!

Seminarian: Thank you! See you next week!

Bishop: See you then.

Confused Seminarian Meets Progressive Bishop: A Hot Mic Moment*

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Setting: A young, bright seminarian meets with the regional bishop of a progressive denomination to discuss his future.

Seminarian: Thank you so much for meeting with me on such short notice.

Bishop: You’re welcome. Have a seat. Would you like a drink?

Seminarian: Thanks. Water will be fine.

Bishop: What’s on your mind?

Seminarian: It’s a bit sensitive.

Bishop: Don’t worry. I make no judgments, and nothing you say will leave this office.

Seminarian: Okay. Here goes. From birth to adulthood, I attended an evangelical church. (Some would call it “fundamentalist”). In my late teen years, I felt a call to the ministry. I attended a small Christian college, and three months ago I graduated from an evangelical seminary. But things have not turned out the way I imagined, and I now find myself at a turning point in my life.

Bishop: Hummm. How so?

Seminarian: I’ve lost faith in the traditional theology taught in evangelical churches. Its moral teachings are out of date, it’s oblivious to social justice, and its politics leans to the far right. I don’t fit anymore. I feel like I’ve invested years of my life and accrued significant debt for nothing. I would still like to become a clergyman. I enjoy helping people, I am a good public speaker, and I have a passion for social justice. But given my doubts and unorthodox views, I am concerned that I might not fit into any church.

Bishop: Don’t despair just yet. How exactly have your views changed?

Seminarian: Well, I suppose it all started with the Bible. Before I entered seminary I believed that everything the Bible says is true because it is the inspired word of God. That is what my church taught me. But when I began to study the Bible closely in seminary, my faith in the perfection of the Bible began to waver. As the list of contradictions, historical errors, mythic elements, immoral commands and strange customs grew longer and longer, my faith in the perfection of the Bible grew weaker and finally collapsed. I still believe, however, that the Bible contains inspiring ideals and much good advice, despite its imperfections. Jesus’s teaching about God’s concern for the poor and oppressed, the kingdom of God, and our duty to love others still moves me greatly. But is there a place for me in the ministry?

Bishop: There is no need to feel alone on this journey. Many seminarians have traveled the same road, including me, and eventually find a home in a progressive church. Admittedly, even in progressive churches many people do not wish to hear the Bible criticized. But you don’t need to do that. As you say, the Bible contains many good lessons and principles. Just focus on these and ignore the rest. People won’t even guess that you have doubts about the Bible.

Seminarian: What a relief! It’s encouraging to know that there are denominations in which ministers don’t have to defend everything the Bible says. But there is more.

Bishop: Go on.

Seminarian: When I finally realized that the Bible isn’t infallible or even reliable in everything it teaches, I began approaching everything it says with a critical eye. I couldn’t help myself. It no longer made sense to accept what the Bible says simply because it says so, and that opened a Pandora’s Box of questions. My whole world was turned upside down. I still don’t know what to believe. I don’t want to toss out everything the Bible says. I suppose I am looking for a way to distinguish between beliefs that are worth keeping and those that must be left behind. Do you see what I mean?

Bishop: I think I do.

Seminarian: I’m listening.

Bishop: Have you ever heard of the Wesleyan Quadrilateral?

Seminarian: I remember the term. It originated in the Anglican/Methodist tradition and has something to do with the sources of theology, right?

Bishop: Correct. But apparently, its significance escaped you. The Wesleyan Quadrilateral observes that throughout church history four factors always worked together to produce the church’s doctrine: scripture, tradition, reason, and experience (Hence quadrilateral!). All Christian doctrines need to be grounded in the Bible, consistent with tradition, supported by reason, and confirmed in experience. Fundamentalists and evangelicals focus exclusively on the scripture. If a doctrine appears to be taught in the Bible, they say we must accept it even if it is not supported by tradition, reason, or experience.

Seminarian: Yes. That is what I was taught.

Bishop: Indeed! Evangelicals, then, departed from the mainstream flow of the church’s way of thinking through theological challenges. But progressive denominations take all four sources of the Wesleyan Quadrilateral seriously in their doctrinal deliberations.

Seminarian: How does that work?

Bishop: Of course, progressives take the Bible seriously. It is the original source for the Christian story: Jesus’s life, teachings and fate, as well as the earliest church’s attempt to understand his significance. Without the Bible, we would have nothing distinctly Christian to say. However, as you have come to realize, the Bible is a human book and suffers from the limitations that afflict all human creations. It is influenced by the beliefs, moral norms, and superstitions of the culture within which it was written.

Seminarian: Let me guess…progressives use tradition, reason, and experience to compensate for the deficiencies and limitations of scripture.

Bishop: Exactly…but don’t get too far ahead of yourself. It’s not a simple process.

Seminarian: Sorry about that. Lead on. But if you don’t mind, give me the short version. I’m having dinner with a friend in an hour.

Bishop: Progressives value tradition, but only as an on-going process of discussion. We listen to past voices, but we do not treat traditional doctrine as definitive for all time. We consult tradition to benefit from the wisdom of the past, but as the living church of today we must read it critically and remain open to new insights inspired by the Spirit. And that is why reason and experience are so important. When we perceive that the Bible asserts something erroneous or unreasonable—usually in the areas of history or empirical science—we feel free to ignore its teaching or correct its mistakes. It would be wrong to ask people to believe the impossible, accept the erroneous, or embrace the improbable as conditions for becoming Christians.

Seminarian: Okay. But that doesn’t sound particularly progressive. Even the most orthodox theologians—Protestant and Roman Catholic—employed the criterion of “right reason” as a measure of true theology!

Bishop: That is correct. But our modern understanding of what reason demands differs greatly from that of medieval Catholics and Reformation era Protestants. Given the discoveries of modern science, today’s fundamentalists and evangelicals are much less enthusiastic about reason than their predecessors were. But that is a story for another time. Let’s move on to experience.

Seminarian: I will hold you to that.

Bishop: No doubt, progressive churches’ use of experience as a doctrinal criterion (or source) marks their most significant departure from traditional orthodoxy. Experience becomes very important in grappling with contemporary moral issues, specifically those dealing with class, sex, race, and gender. Progressive Christians have learned to read the Bible and tradition critically in view of the experiences of marginalized and oppressed people. The Bible and tradition picture gay, lesbian, and transgender people as degenerate and rebellious. They picture women as weak-willed temptresses. However, when one listens to the voices of LGBTQ+ and other marginalized people and enters their lived experience, our views change. We return, then, to the offensive biblical texts with a new, critical perspective. We become open to alternative interpretations or, if reinterpretation won’t solve the problem, we reject those texts as out of character with the main story of scripture, which is God’s gracious acceptance of everyone.

Seminarian: Wow! This has been enlightening! I am beginning to see a glimmer of hope. May I come back next week to explore other areas of concern?

Bishop: Of course. I will put you on my calendar.

Seminarian: Thank you so much! See you next week!

Bishop: Great! Don’t forget your jacket.

* Within the past two years I’ve written several essays on so-called “progressive Christianity.” I reviewed books by Roger Olson (July 15 & 19, 2022), Robert Gushee (November 7, 12, 21 &28, 2022), David Kaden (October 22 & 23, 2022) and, in a series of essays on progressive thought, attempted to articulate the foundational value that animates the progressive movement in secular culture and in the church (August 12, 2022). I am writing this series of conversations between a confused seminarian and a progressive bishop because I am amazed that relatively orthodox (or evangelical) Christians attend progressive churches and have no clue what their pastors really believe or what they are up to. So, I am giving you the inside story—a hot mic perspective—on progressive Christianity.