Be more radical

Tim Chesterton offers the last of our New Year Resolutions for inclusive faith. Tim has recently retrred after a long and varied ministry in Canada. He was one of the founders of Inclusive Evangelicals and continues to be a wise and ally.

Be More Radical

Here on the Inclusive Evangelicals blog, some of the convenors and members have been writing posts about new year’s resolutions for the IE movement. I have found their thoughts helpful, and they’ve also prompted me to ask myself about my own take on this matter. I helped get ‘Inclusive Evangelicals’ going (as a sort of ‘Canadian consultant’), and later stepped away as it focussed specifically on its own context, which is different from mine. But I’ve continued to watch from afar, and I’m glad to pray for and support the movement as it grows and matures.

So what would be my recommendation to Inclusive Evangelicals (and ‘inclusive evangelicals’ in the wider sense!)? Just this: make a new year’s resolution to be more radical.

What do I mean by that? Here are four suggestions.

First, be unapologetically centred on Jesus.

I currently attend a Mennonite church, and this Jesus-centric approach to Christianity and the Bible is an integral part of our Anabaptist DNA. We do not read the Bible as a ‘flat’ book, with Leviticus having equal authority to John, and the picture of God in Joshua and Judges being equally valid to the picture of God in the Sermon on the Mount. We believe that the title ‘Word of God’ belongs ultimately to Jesus; he is our clearest picture of what God is like. Therefore, the rest of the Bible must always be interpreted in line with the teaching of Jesus. Jesus is the destination to which the whole story is pointing.

In Anglicanism we give liturgical expression to this principle Sunday by Sunday with our custom of standing for the reading of the gospel. We attend carefully to every scripture reading, expecting to hear the Spirit speaking to the church, but for us, too, the words and actions of Jesus have an even higher authority. In many of our churches there is a gospel procession; the other scriptures are read from the lectern, but as the Word was made flesh and lived among us, so the gospel comes down and is read ‘among us’, in the midst of the gathered congregation.

What are some of the implications of this approach? Well, for example, in the Book of Joshua God is portrayed as commanding Israel to wipe out whole populations—men, women, children, babies in arms—in other swords, to commit ethnic cleansing and genocide. But in Jesus, God commands us to turn the other cheek and love our enemies. A ‘flat’ approach to the Bible would ask us to weigh the two and hold them in tension, as if they are equal witnesses to the way of God. But the Bible is not meant to be a ‘flat’ book; it has mountains and valleys, high points and lower points.

This is clear in the text itself. For instance, the writer to the Hebrews opens his letter by saying,

Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word. (Hebrews 1.1-3a NRSVue)

He goes on in the letter to emphasise over and over again that the new covenant through Jesus is better than the old covenant given by Moses. Jesus, of course, underlines this; he stands in continuity with the Hebrew scriptures, but he does not unconditionally endorse everything in them. He ‘declares all foods clean’ in contrast to the Torah’s meticulous kosher regulations, and several times in the Sermon on the Mount he says “You have heard that it was said…but I say to you…”. The early church follows Jesus in this, gradually parting company with Gentile exclusion, the requirement for circumcision and other commands clearly given in the Hebrew scriptures. This is all done in obedience to the spirit of Jesus, who is the true Word of God.

So a Jesus-centric approach is clear and unapologetic about prioritising Jesus as the highest revelation of God and God’s will for us. Jesus is Lord, not the Bible. The Bible is a witness to him, and if read carefully, with the help of wise teachers, it will lead us to him.^[1] That’s its job.

I read the Bible often

I try to read it right

As far as I can understand

It isn’t nothing but a burning light

(Blind Willie Johnson, ‘Soul of a Man’)

Second, be rigorously skeptical about power.

The writers of the Bible are very wary of human leadership. They know it’s sometimes necessary, and good leadership has the capacity to be a blessing. But we always need to remembger our human tendency to corrupt good things; it is, in fact, quite rare for leadership not to be at least partially corrupted by greed, selfishness, and the love of power, and of the powerful.

The love of the powerful is the love of the big, the successful, the ‘thing that works’ (even if its ethical basis is dodgy). It’s the desire to have a large, successful church, an influential ministry, a voice in the corridors of power. For pastors and priests, it taps into our hunger to be loved, to be respected and looked up to, to be recognised as pillars of our community. All too often, it leads to a dramatic fall from grace (I don’t need to list the names of Christian leaders who have had such a fall in the past decade).

Jesus is a powerful figure, but he’s not about power, he’s about love, service, and doing the will of his Father in heaven. In his ministry, he doesn’t prioritize the movers and shakers; he prioritizes the poor, the marginalised, the outsiders, the ones the Empire and the Temple have forgotten. He redefines leadership, making it all about service: “You call me Teacher and Lord, and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” (John 13.13-15 NRSVue).

Throughout Christian history, many churches have forgotten the teaching of Jesus and set up power structures. In the Anglican church we reinforce them with magnificent robes, splendid titles, oaths of canonical obedience and so on. Evangelical churches revere the title ‘Doctor’ every bit as much as Anglo-Catholics love ‘Father’, and many congregations of all traditions (especially smaller ones) have an unofficial power structure in which two or three people who have been around for a long time exercise unquestioned authority over the decisions of the church. We claim to follow Jesus, but he is actually far too radical for us. Surely it’s long past time to let go of the love of power and embrace the power of love.

Third, learn to see money and possessions as Jesus sees them.

To watch the current controversy about same-sex relationships in the Church of England and many other churches, you would think that Jesus spent enormous amounts of time and energy talking about sex. In fact, he had a lot more to say about money and possessions, and the dangers of greed. When I read the teaching of Jesus, I get the sense that he sees money in much the same way as we see radioactive material: in the right place it can do a lot of good, but you have to handle it very, very carefully, or it will poison you and kill you.

He tells his disciples not to lay up treasures for themselves on earth (which is a dangerous place to keep wealth), but to store it up in heaven instead. A person’s life, he says, does not consist in the abundance of their possessions. On more than one occasion he tells his followers to sell their possessions and give to the poor. He creates a community with a common purse, and his early followers in the book of Acts imitate this. Paul, following in the footsteps of his Master, spells it all out for Timothy:

‘Of course, there is great gain in godliness combined with contentment, for we brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it, but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these. But those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains. ‘ (1 Timothy 6.6-10 NRSVue)

Sadly, the church made its peace with wealth long ago. The landscapes of Europe and North America are littered with massive sanctuaries, some of them incredible works of art that are visited and admired by millions, but many of which were built by the labour of poor people who lived daily on the edge of starvation. Even today, the church seems far more interested in buildings than its founder ever was. And as individuals, we have accepted our society’s expectation that a succcessful life includes an expanding income and lifestyle; if we’re not enjoying those, we’re doing something wrong.

Wealth is a difficult issue and it’s usually a bad idea to try to lay down hard and fast rules for others. From my own experience, I know that the most effective antidote to the idolatry of greed is the practice of generosity. An old friend of mine used to say, “Don’t give til it hurts; give til it feels good!” In other words, the more we cultivate the habit of generosity, the more joy and freedom we’ll find in it, and the closer we’ll come to the light of Jesus.

Fourth, be clear and open about practising LGBTQI+ inclusivity and affirmation.

I began my ministry in the Anglican Church of Canada in 1978. Not long after that, the House of Bishops of the Anglican Church of Canada issued a pastoral statement about homosexuality, in which, for the first time, they put on record their desire to be pastoral toward gay people. Ever since then—for almost fifty years—the Anglican Church of Canada (in partnership with other churches) has been discussing this subject. Theological points have been made and rebutted. Bad scholarship has been exposed. People have been accused of being fundamentalist or revisionist. Churches have split, people have left their congregations, and at least one new denomination has been formed. Advances have been made—sometimes by the willingness of people to step outside the recognised rulebook and ‘just do it anyway’—and there have also been setbacks.

At our 2019 General Synod, the Anglican Church of Canada came within one vote of approving a change in our canon on marriage to include gay and lesbian marriages. When I say ‘one vote’, what I mean is that our synod votes in three separate ‘houses’—bishops, clergy and laity—and that a change like this requires, not 50% plus 1, but a two thirds majority in each house. The motion for change passed in the houses of laity and clergy, but fell one vote short of two-thirds in the house of bishops. 80% of the synod delegates voted in favour of the change, but because of the procedural rules, it was unsuccessful.

And yet, today, the majority of dioceses in the Anglican Church of Canada permit same-sex marriage. This was partly because our chancellor told us that Canon XXI didn’t specify that the couple had to be ‘a man and a woman’ anyway (though our liturgies did), but mainly, I think, because bishops decided that four decades was enough, and 80% was a big number, and gave permission for it to happen in their dioceses anyway. And in the national church as a whole, there was not the will to challenge or impede this.

For myself, I grow tired of arguing for this change. I have myself moved from a conservative to an affirming position, and on the way I’ve stopped for a while at almost every watering hole and waystation! I’m familiar with all the arguments, but I’m also aware that argument didn’t bring me to this understanding; relationship made it possible, and opened me up to fresh understandings of the scriptures (as has often happened in Christian history, on many subjects).

I’m not confident that more argument will achieve much. But for me, the case has been made and the discussion is done. I have resolved to be welcoming and affirming to LGBTQI+ friends and siblings in Christ, on the basis of my understanding of the radical gospel of Christ. This is what my conscience tells me—in conversation with many friends and siblings of different theological persuasion—and I will do my best to live by that light.

So: here is my own inclusive evangelical resolution for 2026: Be more radical.

1.     Be unapologetically centred on Jesus

2.     Be rigorously skeptical about power

3.     Learn to see money and possessions as Jesus sees them

4.     Be clear and open about practising LGBTQI+ inclusivity and affirmation.

^[1] ‘It is Christ Himself, not the Bible, who is the true Word of God. The Bible, read in the right spirit and with the guidance of good teachers will bring us to Him. When it becomes really necessary (i.e. for our spiritual life, not for controversy or curiosity) to know whether a particular passage is rightly translated or is Myth (but of course Myth specially chosen by God from among countless Myths to carry a spiritual truth) or history, we shall no doubt be guided to the right answer. But we must not use the Bible (our ancestors too often did) as a sort of Encyclopedia out of which texts (isolated from their context and read without attention to the whole nature and purport of the books in which they occur) can be taken for use as weapons.’ C.S. Lewis, Collected Letters, Volume 3.