An American Theology to Die For

On August 16, 1967, Martin Luther King was interested in the soul of America. At the eleventh Southern Christian Leadership Conference convention in Atlanta, he observed the domestic terrorism in the South, northern indifference to structural inequalities, and a stubborn resistance from the evangelical community to realizing its own hypocrisy.

He preached on the life of religious leader Nicodemus as a biblical lens into the state of America in the 1960s. King said, “What I’m saying is that we must go from this convention and say, America, you must be born again.” King suggested America had lost its theological vision.           

“We must go from this convention and say, America, you must be born again.”

What would King say about the  church in the U.S. today? Would he speak to the white evangelical church that chose rage as an efficient means to keep and hold power against the ever-increasing numbers of black and brown people settling into American life? Would he challenge church leaders who had abdicated their roles for prestige and popularity for themselves? Would he call the church to die in order to receive a future based on resurrection?

I think King would not allow the church to go on her merry way without a bold critique of her life and witness. He might have insisted the American church can only find her soul again by finding a theology worth dying for again.

Ancient Israel’s entire view of God was seen through the prism of the Exodus.

Where can one look for a theology worth dying for? Ancient Israel’s entire view of God was seen through the prism of the Exodus. The book of Exodus begins with Israel operating under the theology of Egypt. The Egyptian theological vision was naked, concentrated power under the auspices of Pharaoh as a god.

Under the oppressive praxis of Egyptian spirituality, another theological vision slipped onto the scene. “The Israelites groaned in their slavery and cried out and their cry for help because of their slavery went up to God. God heard their groaning and he remembered his covenant…God looked on the Israelites and was concerned about them” (Exodus 2:23-25) Events such as Moses’s call into leadership, the miracle of leaving Egypt under the power of God’s intervention, and drowning the Egyptian army all came as a result of God’s hearing their cry for justice and relief from oppression. Israel’s theology was shaped in the crucible of God’s mighty acts of rescue and deliverance. In the Exodus, God’s theology out-dueled Egyptian theology. The Exodus was Israel’s evidence of a God who converted them to his theological vision. Israel had a theological vision worth dying for over two millennia.

In the Exodus, God’s theology out-dueled Egyptian theology.

The early Christian church conducted themselves counter to the Roman Empire’s theological vision. They endured opposition to their counter-cultural ways of aligning themselves with those whom society gave up on: slaves, widows, unwanted babies, the poor.  Their Christian vision was compelling enough to die for, and many of them did.

Julian the Apostate, one of the last pagan emperors of Rome, knew the Christians’ vision came from the Messiah’s willingness to die for them. Justin wrote, “These impious Galileans (Christians) not only feed their own, but ours also; welcoming them with their agape, they attract them, as children are attracted with cakes….Whilst the pagan priests neglect the poor, the hated Galileans devote themselves to works of charity, and by a display of false compassion have established and given effect to their pernicious errors. Such practice is common among them, and causes contempt for our gods.” (James Davison Hunter, To Change the World, p. 55-56)

“Whilst the pagan priests neglect the poor, the hated Galileans devote themselves to works of charity.”

Justin even tried to create a Roman counterpart to the Christian vision since it was changing the empire from within. The Christian vision refused to join the Roman theological vision--one cannot change the world by using the tools of the world. But empires could collapse if subverted by a counter, compelling theological vision that inspires its adherents to do more than serve themselves.

Any robust theological vision needs to strike balance to bring about rebirth. Thinking and practice of a theological vision are two sides of the same coin. Thinking rightly, without faithful practice, provides a false witness to the world.

On the other hand, practicing good deeds without grounding those works in a rooted and compelling theological vision would soon dissipate into accommodating the cultural winds of the day. Both praxis and theology must work in tandem to enact a theological vision worth its salt for the rebirth of the soul of culture, especially in the American context.

Both praxis and theology must work in tandem to enact a theological vision worth its salt.

I think a renewed theological vision for a 21st American context must have two aspects. First, an American theological rebirth should begin with accepting the virtue of powerlessness again. The late Russian dissident Alexander Solzhenitsyn sought to maintain some degree of power over his circumstances while he labored in prison. It was only when he took a contrarian approach that he found real power. “When he embraced his powerlessness, then he became completely free, the power of his captors over him ceased. In the way of life’s strange paradoxes, he became the powerful, they became the powerless.” (Cheryl Forbes, The Religion of Power, p. 35)

In other words, the rebirth of a robust American theological vision does not start with grabbing for more power in the usual institutions of strength, but with taking our stand in the cross of Christ as the paradoxical theological center. The cross of Christ subverted empires, emperors, and kings. The power of God is found in a powerless symbol of suffering and shame. What if being born again in America starts with the old rugged cross?

What if being born again in America starts with the old rugged cross?

Second, I agree with Hunter’s observation that a newly robust American theological vision might be the re-engagement of faithful presence, in other words, care for neighborhoods. He wrote, “the call of faithful presence gives priority to what is right in front of us – the community, the neighborhood and the city and the people of which these are constituted. This will mean a preference for stability, locality, and the particularity of place and its needs…It is here where we learn forgiveness, and humility, practice kindness, hospitality, and charity, grow in patience and wisdom, and become clothed with compassion, gentleness and joy. Christian holiness is forged within this crucible. This is the context within which shalom is enacted.” (Hunter, p. 253)

America, you must be born again! This kind of theological vision might be worth dying for, if lived it out under the paradoxical power of the cross and the practice of faithful presence among Americans searching for God in the U.S.