I would say that returning to the way it was 700 years ago *is* a dramatic change. Actually Cox thinks that we’re in some ways returning to the way we were before Constantine, and that this is an excellent thing.

I’m not saying that we have to have a Christianity without specific beliefs. I’m not sure that it’s possible to have a life without specific beliefs. But what I complain about is the importance people place on them. As an example: I’m out there to change the world. If I call it “Jesus work” and a Buddhist and a Muslim do it alongside me, maybe they have a different name for it, but why should that concern me? I’d take it that far. You and I might believe different things, might approach things in different ways, but in the end, if we are both trying to bring peace and justice to the world, and orient our lives towards that, why should we bother to quibble about the little things? I think that is partly why so many people think “organized religion” has a bad name. All this worrying about which churches we’re in full communion with, who wronged us 1000 years ago, why we’re split over this or that is so much wasted energy.

To return to the example at hand: it’s not like there was no dogma before Nicea, or no difference of belief. What we’re learning now is that there was *a lot* of variation in belief back then. Far more than we used to think. But *it didn’t matter so much* back then. People didn’t take those differences in belief — and they were vast — so seriously. (This was before they even agreed on what the authoritative gospels were.) And that, I think, is the heart of the tragedy of Constantine and Nicea: that it has misdirected focus for so many for so long. I absolutely agree that Christianity is about a way of life. I just think that the creeds, in today’s time, so often get in the way of that, to the point that people think that Christianity is about intellectual assent to those things. Frankly, I don’t think it matters if my fellow Christians question the virgin birth or the literal interpretation of the creation. They can have their beliefs, and I can have mine, but we can share the same core and the same goals. (And this isn’t limited to Christians, either.)

Thanks for the very interesting discussion.

As a result the Orthodox have, since the 3rd century been relatively free from schism. Again, this is a relative statement. After the Great Schism (east vs west), the Orthodox world has remained largely in communion and schismatic groups have died out or been re-assimilated into the Church.

I would say that sort of unity (and, yes, I’m glossing over a lot of political infighting, but looking at the “fruit” that the Church has produced) is different than, say, the Mennonites of Lancaster where, last I heard, there were 70+ different denominations calling themselves Mennonite in this county alone.

In this way, creeds and dogma serve as a center, an anchor. The creed is not the faith, it is not the way, but it gives us an objective point of intellectual agreement while we get about the more subjective business of actually living out the faith. It is because of the creed that we are free to live full Christian lives.

Creativity and structure are intertwined. Creativity without structure loses its form. Structure without creativity loses its beauty.

This is why I will not to embrace a creedless Christianity. I’m very much aware of how Ossified and dead Orthodoxy can become, but where there is life in the Church, beauty abounds.

I’m wary of any “Way” that has no bones, no structure, on which to hang its meat.

Oh, and, yes, Christianity has changed over the past 100 years. But go back another 6 or 7 hundred before the spread of the Ottoman Empire and look at the areas (Orthodox and Coptic) Christianity occupied. North Africa, Russia, Turkey, and much of the Middle East. That (Western, Protestant) Christianity is now spreading to those areas (and further) doesn’t mean that Christianity is somehow changing dramatically.

Christianity is about a way of life — anyone who says that reciting creeds or taking part in rituals is sufficient for Christian Life is only getting the bones. But don’t let their obsession with bones get in the way of your own pursuit of a full, complete life. Bones are necessary for life, but they aren’t the whole of it.

(now… where’s my preview button…)

As an example, over at http://changelog.complete.org/archives/1307-greek-mythology-and-the-old-testament#comments I posted this quote from Cox describing a meeting of Christians in Hong Kong:

“It was also clear to me that they thought arguing over doctrines and beliefs was too “Western” and a little boring. Their idea of interfaith dialogue was to work with their fellow Asians of whatever religion to advance the Kingdom that Jesus had inspired them, as Christians, to strive for, regardless of what the others called it… They seemed more attuned to the element of mystery at the core of Christianity and to its vision of justice. They were also clearly impatient with many of the disputes that preoccupy the different wings of the American churches.”

I’d say that this would be a fair explanation of Cox’s own viewpoint as well.

I liked your analogy to being a spiritual hospital. Very apt.

Maybe there isn’t something significant about the last 50 years of the church, but try the last hundred. I’m working from memory here, but I believe that 100 years ago, 90% of Christians were in Europe or the US. Today 60% are in the “global South.” How’s that for a shift, not just in geography, but representing different ideas, different rituals, and different cultures?

As I’ve said, I think that Christianity is about a way of life, not a set of beliefs or creeds. I will grant that beliefs or creeds may have been helpful to some over the ages, and continue to be helpful for some today, but becoming preoccupied in that misses the point of it all. Unfortunately, we, the global church, are way too preoccupied in it.

It’s interesting how you are talking about being “less concerned about dogma”. I see that as a good thing, and I think you do too. However, checking out Wikipedia’s Eastern Orthodox page, I still see an unnecessary reliance upon the doctrine of apostolic succession as well as heresy/heterodoxy which is troubling. (By no means is that denomination unique in those issues, of course.)

I do not omit anabaptist churches from my criticism. Look at the history of anabaptists and you’ll see that they could wreck churches and shun each other over miniscule issues of doctrine with the best of ‘em. I guess the difference was that they just didn’t kill people over it. Some, but not all, churches are moving beyond that.

But, then, I’m Orthodox, so I wouldn’t. The Church has always been made up of broken people. The Church, we are fond of saying, is a spiritual hospital. So, yes, there is going to be some hard-to-get-rid-of infections.

I think Fr Men has addressed most of the things I find wrong with the approach Harvey Cox is (apparently) taking. I would recommend his Two understandings of Christianity in particular.

Beyond that, if the past couple of centuries or so (certainly, this has been happening for more than the past 50 years) of Christianity has shown us anything, it is just how uncomfortable are with the idea that there is one, knowable, spiritual truth exclusive to Christianity.

The apophatic approach of the Orthodox, on the other hand, emphasises how much of God essence and Truth we cannot know (while still calling us to unity with Him). As a result, Orthodoxy and its saints throughout history have seemed (to me) less concerned with dogma (for example, where the Romans are still updating their dogma, the last council the Orthodox recognize is from the 8th century) and more concerned with humility, prayer, and striving towards union with God.

But I feel I must emphasize that even those saints would probably be, in many ways, found distasteful in the eyes of modern Christians because of the larger culture they were a part of. This is probably the point that makes me most uncomfortable with what is (apparently) Harvey Cox’s approach: it seems to me more a reflection of the openness of modern culture rather than anything particularly special about modern Christianity.

I think perhaps I haven’t been entirely clear in my remarks. I don’t claim that Constantine killed Christianity, nor that the damage that was inflicted during his lifetime rests solely on his shoulders. The stirrings of creeds and the conflation of faith and belief had already begun before Constantine. That said, I do believe that he hastened, if not outright caused, lasting and severe damage to a large part of the church.

I don’t agree that the larger church disappeared for a millennium. It existed, and it was a positive force in many ways. The Roman church was also a negative force, and was involved with, for instance, the torture and execution of those that disagreed on doctrine. My core claim is that Constantine made Christianity be about beliefs rather than about a way of life, and this legacy remains with the entire world: Roman Catholics, the Eastern Orthodox, and American Protestants, evangelicals, and Anabaptists. One doesn’t have to go very far back in my own church’s history to see sad examples of this playing out.

As Harvey Cox points out, there has been a whole lot of hand-wringing over what are ultimately unimportant issues. Even the question of Constantine that we are discussing is not really all that important. Was he a hero or villain? It doesn’t really matter, if what we are after is knowledge on how to live our lives in The Way.

I think that the places where the church is most effectively moving away from the legacy of Constantine isn’t with the European or North American churches, but perhaps with the South American, African, and east Asian congregations. But that said, I hear a lot of opinions on all sides out of American churches, and there *is* an awakening of what Cox calls “The age of the spirit” or what Borg calls “the emerging paradigm” going in. I am glad for it, and it is the only way forward for religion in general, I think.

I’m familiar with Christianity that demonizes Constantine and the arguments for it. But I don’t think he is the one who started the “transformation of faith into belief”. I’d look more to Augustine and the development of the idea of Original Sin for that.. Some would even blame Thomism or (later still) the Enlightenment. You can even see some hints of this in the pre-Thomas Aquinas Roman doctrine of transubstantiation.

In short, I think what you refer to as the “transformation of faith into belief” could be restated as the separation of faith and works, something that comes, it seems to me, as a direct result of the rationalization of the Gospel (hence, for example, transubstantiation) and the doctrine of Original Sin (which means brings a fatalism to our actions: they can never match our faith) — as if one can claim to believe that “God is Love” but then act in very ungodly, unloving ways.

While I do have a lot of respect for Anabaptists, I cannot accept the idea common among Anabaptists and most Protestants that somehow the church died off or became ineffective or “fell away” after Constantine and has only begun to recover since, say, the reformation or at whatever point the church became acceptable again in your own eyes.

And yes, the nature of Christianity did change when Constantine showed up. This does not mean it disappeared or became, somehow, less real. Many people contemporary with Constantine were troubled by the relative lack of persecution and, as a result, monasticism (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desert_Fathers) began to flourish.

Its also helpful to know that while we consider Constantine a saint “equal to the apostles”, the title doesn’t mean that we accept everything he said or did as perfect. The number of people revered as saints who had military power is very small. Its helpful to keep in mind that others from that period (like St Nicholas, St John Chrysostom, or St Basil) or later (like St Symeon the New Theologian — one of only a tiny handful to have the title “Theologian”) are respected for their lives of humility and service as well as what they said and wrote.

The early bishops weren’t perfect. Constantine wasn’t perfect. But Constantine didn’t mean the end of the golden era for the church.

One thing I found very helpful (when I was still protestant) was to actually look at what the other side had to say on issues. For that reason, I purchased the Roman Catholic Catechism when was published in the late ’90s. It gave me an alternative point of view from all the reactionary anti-Papist stuff I had been exposed to. (I still don’t consider the Bishop of Rome as the ultimate authority — infallibility is a bit much for me — but I understand my Catholic friends a lot better now.)

As I said, I have a lot of respect for Anabaptists. The focus on living out the Gospel in every facet of life cannot help but earn that respect. But I am troubled by the idea, common among many of them, that the larger church essentially disappeared for a millennium or so. It is, if you’ll pardon the phrase, a very Eurocentric view of the Church.

I’m sure you can see that I’d love to go on and on about this. I’ll try to shut up, but before I do, let me recommend a resource that I maintain: http://AlexanderMen.com/ Alexander Men was a Russian priest martyred in 1990 by (many believe) the secret police. We’re trying to collect translations of his work there and I think you’ll find something in the Christianity expressed there that resonates with the Christianity you’ve expressed here.

That is interesting that you consider Constantine a saint, as quite a few people (and I think I’d be one of them) see him as more of a villain. Constantine and the early bishops had a sort of unholy alliance: they were both using the other for power and prestige. Constantine was offering the bishops money and prestige, and in return he hoped the bishops would standardize Christianity enough ot hold the empire together.

Unfortunately, this led to all sorts of corruption of Christianity; the damaging transformation of faith into belief started at Nicea and is only just now being undone, questions of belief became more important, the concept of heresy took hold, and people that disagreed with exiled or executed.

Christianity was spreading despite persecution before Constantine; simply stopping the persecution, rather than imperializing it, would perhaps have been far better.

I’ve been reading The Future of Faith by Harvey Cox just now, and he is rather blistering of both the early bishops and Constantine. I’m currently finding his arguments rather persuasive, but will admit I haven’t been exposed much to the opposing viewpoint.

Some of the sheen has come off of my admiration for the Mennonites since moving to Lancaster County, but, in the abstract and often in reality, the Mennonites are still pretty awesome. My favorite uncle is a Mennonite minister. The Thursday morning study group that I’m a part of has a fair number of Mennonite ministers and parishioners in it.

(And, yes, “Hershberger” is a Mennonite name.)

That said, as a convert to Orthodoxy, I’ve become a lot more comfortable with less idealized Christianity. Constantine is revered as a saint “equal to the apostles” and with good cause. Considering the horror stories that came from his predecessor, Diocletian, I don’t see how the Church could consider Constantine anything but a saint.

Which is not to say that he is perfect. David, an OT saint, was a man “after God’s own heart” but was far from perfect. The same could be said for Moses, Joseph, and most other Biblical saints.

Which brings me back to Goshen College. I’m no fan of civic religion, but singing the Star Spangled Banner doesn’t seem like that big a deal to me. Much more troubling, to me, is the sort of clash that we can see in http://bit.ly/9rYCJh (from my twitter feed) where “Thy Kingdom Come” meets “God Bless America”.

By comparison, a traditionally pacifist school like Goshen College singing the national anthem before games? Peanuts.