Brian McLaren is at the forefront of the emergent church movement, which he describes as “a century-long conversation about what it means to follow Christ in a postmodern, post-colonial, post-industrial, post-consumerist world.” But he’s also at the forefront of controversy, as evangelical Christians have penned vehement critiques of his ideas. McLaren, who helped found Cedar Ridge Community Church in Spencerville, Md., now lives in Florida and blogs at brianmclaren.net. His most recent books are “Naked Spirituality” and “A New Kind of Christianity.” He spoke to The Washington Examiner via email about his ongoing search for truth and his trust in a loving God.
Do you consider yourself to be of a specific faith?
I’m a Christian. I grew up fundamentalist and then spent many years as a mainstream evangelical. It’s harder to categorize me now, as I’ve learned so much from all sectors of the Christian faith.
Why did you start looking for a new kind of Christianity?
I’ve always been a questioner. I remember being in junior high school and being told by a Sunday school teacher that I had to choose between God and evolution. What I knew about evolution made it seem like one of God’s most interesting creations, so I remember differing from my Sunday school teacher. My struggle became more intense after I became a pastor and started to see, from the inside, a number of problems with the theological system I inherited. It all became even more critical with the rise of the Religious Right, as major sectors of Christian faith took on a regressive and combative tone.
Your critics have accused you of fitting your theology to your politics, of apostasy, of heresy. Why do you think their reactions to you are so heated?
Many of my critics are simply doing a same-different test. They’re warning folks that what I’m saying is different from what they say, and they’re at least partially right. I grew up in a version of white fundamentalism that defended segregation and saw women as unfit for church leadership; I’m saying something different. Many of my critics see the Christian gospel as an escape-from-hell evacuation plan, and I see it as an incarnate-into-human-history transformation plan. Many of my critics see Christianity as a conservative force in the world — and they see it in opposition to environmentalism, in support of capitalism and in support of elective wars; I see the Christian faith as having a catalytic and progressive arc, and I see it supporting concern for the planet, critiquing certain features of capitalism and promoting pre-emptive peacemaking rather than war-making.
Where I think my critics are wrong is when they suggest I’m simply trying to fit my theology into contemporary political or cultural boxes. The truth is that my theology has already burst out of the boxes I inherited, and it keeps bursting out of every set of boxes I try to construct. Meanwhile, sadly, I think some of my critics seem to think that it’s better to keep the faith confined to the boxes of the 19th or 17th or 12th or fifth century. In my view, good theology has always been a quest … and in it, we hear God’s call to keep learning, growing, developing, maturing.
Many people turn to religion for answers about suffering and evil, but you’ve advocated for a “faith beyond all answers.” Is certainty possible? If not, where do we find comfort?
I’m certainly not opposed to answers. But I’ve noticed that many answers simply aren’t big enough. Answers that comfort me today may afflict me in different circumstances, and if I quote them to someone else, they may actually cause pain rather than healing. That’s why I see faith as more than answers: Faith is trust, confidence in God’s love and presence. That’s where I find comfort — in faith that God is good even when my answers aren’t so good.
At your core, what is one of your defining beliefs?
God is good, and God loves all of us and all of creation. I’ve never had a thought of God that is too good (meaning better than God really is). For me, all this comes together in seeing God revealed in the life and teaching of Jesus — a man of nonviolence, a man of kindness, a man of compassion and friendship, a man willing to give his all for God’s restorative justice and God’s healing will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.
– Liz Essley