"The Envelope Please..."

Well, it turns out that Paul is a liberal.

Okay, a "progressive."

I scored a 66 one time and a 68 another (After reflection, I changed my answer to a question). It seems that Andrew wins the lunch. For the record, I really wanted to give it to SJW because her husband is a good kisser AND she was the first one gutsy enough to guess my score-- and was pretty darn close. But she did give a range, which felt like a copout... and Andrew guessed right between my two scores. So Andrew it is. (But I will invite SJW, her husband and daughter over for dinner as a constellation prize when we all stop being sick. And Beth gets honorable mention for the line, "I smell chicken." She ought to get something for that!)

I was honestly surprised about falling in the "progressive" camp. I'm still not sure I would define myself that way, or, that if held up to a someone who claims to be progressive, I wouldn't appear like a conservative. I guess it is all relative. Looking at the questions, there is a REALLY big difference between someone who scores a 68 verses a 90. Huge. But I did score higher than a couple of my colleagues who I thought much more liberal than me... which I found interesting.

This has been my story for a couple of years now. I often feel like a man without a theological home. The conservatives don't want me because I'm too liberal. And the liberals don't want me because I'm too conservative. I find myself standing with people in both camps, and sometimes repulsed by both camps. And to be honest, I often feel isolated among my colleagues who fit in these nice, neat little boxes.

On top of that, for some reason anymore, I really resent being labeled. I don't like to be put in boxes.

I spoke at an event in the fall, and when I went to register, I told them I was one of the speakers. They said, "Okay, are you conservative or liberal?" And I said... "yes."

[long pause]

[strange look]

[awkward pause as she waits for me to say more]

I mean, it does depend on what you are asking, right? I'm liberal in my use of chocolate, pizza toppings and love for my wife. I'm conservative in my use of mayo, my dress and anything having to do with Yanni. We actually got into a little fight because I refused to be put into a box so that they could put me into a discussion group.

But as much as I don't like to be labeled, I honestly think I have a particular fear of being labeled "liberal." Largely because all my life I have been taught that "liberal" is a theological cuss word.

Theological Liberals don't love or believe in Jesus.

Liberals don't believe in the bible. Liberals are "them."

But... see, here is the thing: I DO love Jesus and I DO believe in the bible... maybe more now than ever. I think I have a MUCH higher reverence for the bible than many of my more conservative colleagues. I just don't use the same words to describe it as I used to use.

My journey since seminary has been trying to reconcile what I read in the bible with...well...uh... what I read in the bible. I mean, we are all okay with reading James. Phillipians makes us generally feel really good. But then there are those tricky things. The "problem passages."

As Scot said, I'm fascinated "with the portions of the Bible we don't tend to read, passages like the story of Jephthah. Or how God was on the verge of killing Moses for not circumcising his son, and his wife stepped in, did what needed to be done, and tossed the foreskin at Moses' feet, and God let him alone."

"I have become fascinated with what goes on in our heads and our minds and our traditions (and the latter is far more significant than many of us recognize) in making decisions like this. What decisions? Which passages not to read as normative. The passages we tend not to read at all."

For the record, I still don't think I'm in the "theological liberal" camp. I know theological liberals, and I'm not one of them. I feel very comfortable in the moderate camp. In fact, in many ways I'm still a theological conservative.

But why does the Bride of Jesus Christ have so much fear? Why are we so afraid of having the wrong answers? And does this fear say something more about our faith, than which theological box we are stuffed into?

P.S.

I am thinking of going through some of the questions and talking about why I answered the way I did. If I get enough encouragement, I may do that. But I think I have said what I wanted to say.