No Additives Necessary

Recently there was a headline in one of the world’s most prestigious newspapers announcing, “Full-fat faith: the young Christian converts filling our churches.” It was far from the first time such words have been used to describe what is a growing phenomenon: the movement in these morally ambiguous, unstable, worrying times to a religious certainty and often a rejection of what is denounced as progressive or woke. It’s different from and more sophisticated than the oxymoron of Christian nationalism, that distortion of the Bible so as to incorporate spiteful, anti-Christian xenophobia. At its best, this is about orthodoxy and faithfulness, but it can also be committed to shallow traditionalism and arch conservatism 

I understand the impulse, but what’s concerning is the political positioning that often accompanies it all. A rejection of full LGBTQ equality in the church, opposition to same-sex marriage, to the ordination of women as priests and ministers, to economic and social justice, feminism, and to listening to long-marginalized voices. All causes which I accept not in spite of my faith but precisely because of it. 

The problem with full-fat anything is that while it may provide temporary pleasure and satisfaction, in the long term it can be terribly bad for the heart. And the Christianity I know and love, the Christ I know and love, demands the heart set free, even if at times that can be difficult and painful. But then no serious person ever said that being a Christian should be easy. 

The history of theology isn’t some linear process with an inevitable conclusion in strict Roman Catholicism or severe evangelicalism. It’s complex and challenging, involves dialogue and being able to admit when we’ve got it wrong. The fundamentals contained within the Christian creeds are to me ironclad, but their ongoing interpretation entirely justifiable and desirable. This isn’t ambiguity or doubt but an understanding of the reality of the human condition. 

There was a time when I was one of the more prominent lay defenders of conservative Christianity in Canada. I was a regular guest on television and radio, had my own daily shows, was a columnist in numerous newspapers, a speaker all over North America, and the author of two books on Catholicism, one on the best-seller list for 11 weeks. I was even given a papal knighthood. No horse, alas, but there was a cape! 

I miss the book royalties and the speaking fees, but I’ve no regrets at all about leaving all of that behind, the full-fat version of Christianity if you like, for what I believe to be something more authentic, a relationship with God whose nature we see in Jesus and his teachings. Seek justice and truth, love others as yourself, struggle for peace and a new and better world, empathize and include, and call for the great reset of how we live, what we say, and what we do. 

The church isn’t a place to hide or retreat from what is around us, even if the contemporary environment may be intimidating and shocking. To wish for another age is to miss the point of the beatitudes, the cross, and the resurrection. Jesus was and is more about revolution, a true revolution of the self, than a reassuring nostalgia. 

Accepting the supernatural, miracles, the truth of scripture, of course, means Christians are out of rhythm with the mainstream. But that acceptance should reform believers into positions they never thought possible. Not as liberal Christians, denying Christians, embarrassed Christians, or full-fat Christians. Just Christians. Pilgrims walking a path that doesn’t fit into any comfortable political definition and is never complacent. Not left nor right. Far more radical than that. 

In 1952, the great CS Lewis published his still essential book Mere Christianity, the title taken from 17th-century cleric Richard Baxter. Mere Christian. That will do very nicely. No additives necessary.