"You Loved Other People Too Much," And Other Fallacies



Right-wing political commentator and self-professed evangelical Christian Erick Erickson decided to talk shit about my faith and my religious tradition over the last few days, and as such I feel entitled to respond.

One can approach this response from a number of directions.  One obvious direction, and one that I saw commonly in the Twitter response to Erickson, is to interrogate this notion of "the roots of Christianity," which the Episcopal Church has supposedly abandoned.  And this is a fruitful direction to pursue, as evangelical Christianity has little if anything in common with with "roots" of Christianity as practiced throughout the 2000 year history of the faith.  Put it this way--if I were build a time machine and grab a random faithful Christian from the first 1500 years of the faith (and probably more like 1800 years, to be honest) and bring him to Palm Sunday services this Sunday at All Saints Episcopal Church in New Albany, Ohio, they would find many things that were unfamiliar, but the basic structure, theological method, and underlying principles would be entirely consistent with their experience "back home."  By contrast, if you were to drop that same person into wherever it is that Erickson will will be attending this Sunday, it is a stone-cold lock that the response would be "WTF."

Nothing about modern American evangelical Christianity would be remotely recognizable as Christian practice prior to the Protestant Reformation, the vast majority of it would be unintelligible prior to the First Great Awakening of the 1730s and 1740s, and far more of it than many want to believe is the product of post-War America (now referred to as the "Fourth" Great Awakening).  An expression of Christianity with no liturgical tradition, no meaningful sacramental theology, no sacramental priesthood, and no emphasis on the Eucharist is not reflecting the roots of Christianity.  Now, if you want to take the position that the developments that characterize evangelical Christianity are good and the folks prior to that got it wrong, then knock yourself out.  But to stand up there and talk about the "roots" of Christianity and pretend that the modern evangelical is the guardian of said roots is laughable.

But, I'm not going to go in that direction, because all of the above, while true, is really beside the point.  This is not about liturgy or sacramental theology, or even core systematic, doctrinal questions (which, it should be said, so-called "conservative" evangelicals often pay lip service to/get wrong on the regular).  No, this about one of only two things, and really about one thing.  And Erickson gives away the game with this Tweet.


For those not up on the lingo, a quick primer.  "Anglican" means those national churches that descend directly from the Church of England, and are in communion with both the Church of England and the other national churches with a similar heritage.  In most countries, those churches have "Anglican" in the name--i.e. the "Anglican Church of Canada," "Anglican Church of Australia," etc.  The body that is now called the "Episcopal Church" does not have "Anglican" in its name for historical reasons--in large measure because, if you recall, those of us in the United States once made it very clear that we didn't want to be ruled in matters temporal or spiritual by the King of England.  As a result, the Episcopal Church traces its direct heritage to the Scottish Episcopal Church, another body from a place with, shall we say, a tempestuous historical relationship with the English crown.  But all sides more or less buried the hatchet in the 19th Century, and the Episcopal Church in the United States is recognized as the "Anglican" church in the United States.

However, in the 00s, there were a number of entities--some parishes, some whole dioceses--who left the Episcopal Church.  In general, they tend to refer to themselves as "Anglicans," partially as a way to distinguish themselves from the Episcopal Church, partially to assert that they are the true faithful heirs of the Anglican tradition.  The largest such body is the Anglican Church of North America, or "ACNA," but there are other, smaller entities.  Strictly speaking, the "Anglican" in "the Anglican Church of North America" is a misnomer, as, again, the Episcopal Church and not they are recognized by the Archbishop of Canterbury as the official branch of the Anglican movement, such as it is, in the United States.  ACNA has tried several times to change this reality, but they have failed, and it is increasingly unlikely that the Episcopal Church is ever going to be booted in favor of ACNA or some other body.

Nevertheless, when Erickson is encouraging people to join the "Anglicans," he's talking about ACNA or its similarly situated cousins.  So, you might ask, what is the difference between the Episcopal Church and the "Anglicans"?  Why the split?  That's easy, as there is one and only one substantive difference between the two, and only one causus belli behind the split--the gays.  ACNA was founded by those people who could not and would not accept Gene Robinson, a gay man in (at the time) a marriage to another man, as a bishop.  ACNA's entire existence stems entirely from its repudiation of gay people, and that principle is the only thing that keeps it together (to the extent that it stays together--it is straining and perhaps in the process of breaking up over. . . . the role of women!  Because of course it is). 

By identifying the Episcopal Church with heresy and groups like ACNA as "believing in Christianity," Erickson sets up a simple binary--to be a Christian is to reject gay people and especially gay marriage, and those that don't or won't are not Christian.  That's it, that's the list.  Because, but for that issue, ACNA and the Episcopal Church have essentially the same theology, and are certainly more like each other than like Erickson's evangelicalism.  If ACNA is good and the Episcopal Church is bad, then it must be the thing that separates them that determines good and bad, and that is what you think about gay people.

One of the things that is actually sort of refreshing about post-Trump conservative American Christianity is how transparent all of this is.  Before, you would get lots of evasions and false fronts about how the issue that everyone sees as the issue really wasn't the issue.  You still get some of this rope-a-dope from conservative Catholicism, but even there is has been become much more threadbare of late.  In the evangelical space, there is no longer any real subtext--being a Christian means being against any sort of public affirmation or expression of anything included in the LGBTQ acronym, and maybe being against abortion (in public, if not in practice).  Nothing else matters.

If you believe this, then of course Mayor Pete Buttigieg reaching out to religious people folly.  After all, Mayor Buttigieg is himself gay and married, so he's the worst sort of person possible under this framework.  He has committed the ultimate, and in a sense the only, sin.  And anyone who would stand with him, including the Episcopal Church that he attends and was married in, is equally in the Outer Darkness.  Equally, it makes sense to say things like this.

But most people outside the evangelical and conservative Catholic tribe, including most non-religious people, are skeptical of this narrow framing of the Christian faith.  I mean, does Jesus say anything about gay people (not really)?  Does Jesus say anything about abortion (no)?  So, like, why is this the hill you are going to die on?  And if it really isn't traceable to the core message of Jesus, then maybe you have lost the plot?  Again, not from Episcopalians like me who are defending the shield, but otherwise non-committed folks.

This insistence on "gays and abortion uber alles" should, I think, be placed into the context of stories like these.




When I read stories like this, and compare it to what you hear from those who have been through the wringer of evangelical Christianity, I realize something very important.  Yes, I do think the theology of Erickson and his fellow travelers is wrong and stupid.  There is absolutely no question in my mind that the Episcopal Church on balance does a better job of following the teachings of Jesus than American evangelicalism, or for that matter any of the conservative Christian manifestations in the United States in 2019.

But let's say I'm wrong, and let's say Erickson's right.  I still wouldn't change what I was doing and where I am.  If God ultimately sides with Erick Erickson and not Mayor Pete, I'd still rather be with Mayor Pete.  Archbishop Desmond Tutu (an Anglican, a real one) once said he would rather go to Hell than worship a homophobic God.  But it's not just about gay folks, though Erickson et al. have made that the touchstone.  The progressive Christian churches like the Episcopal Church that Erickson so despises, and progressive Christians like myself, have made a decision that there is no such thing as loving other people too much or excluding other people too little.

Making that fundamental decision for love means asking hard questions about some of the things that have been passed down in the name of the Christian faith, and making course corrections where necessary.  And, yes, that means welcoming people like Mayor Pete and his husband, where until very recently he would not have been welcomed.  I am neither ashamed nor bothered by that fact.  We are all on a journey to the Father, making our way as best we can.  And if that is not good enough when we get to the next place, then it's not good enough.  But, I have to tell you, I really don't think it's going to be a problem.

So, Erickson is almost surely wrong in every way in which he frames what Christianity is and what it is about.  But, even if he were not, it wouldn't matter to me.  I made a decision a while back that I was going to love everyone to the best of my ability, and not put down or support any barriers in front of anyone else in trying to love another person.  That's my reading of what that strange itinerant preacher from Nazareth wants me to do.  The church of which I am apart tries to do the same thing, and that's why I am a member.  If that's not right, or that's not good enough, then I'm OK with going to the Bad Place.  I'd rather be on this side.   

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