My Friends,
Rather than write an endless essay refuting each point of the lecture I attended this past Thursday at Christian Theological Seminary, I’m giving you an overall, rather spontaneous reaction to Rev. Brandan Robertson and his “Revolution Not Reformation” lecture. I took no notes, didn’t record it, but listened attentively and offer you my modest yet vivid impressions.
I’m also wishing you, dear friends, a beautiful and inspired fall season (my favorite time of year!), and a joyous and safe New Year to all of our Jewish friends!
As always, I’m grateful for you and…
Pressing On!
D. Paul
The Church’s One Foundation IS Jesus Christ Her Lord!
THE QUEERING OF JESUS, Part II
Except for the somewhat surreal nature of the event itself, there were few surprises yesterday afternoon at the lecture I attended given by the Rev. Brandon Robertson, entitled: “Revolution Not Reformation: Why Christian Faith Needs to Reclaim Queerness.” Robertson arrived a few minutes late at the Shelton Auditorium on Christian Theological Seminary’s campus, “caught in traffic,” we were told, which is a rarity here in Indianapolis. Perhaps this accounts for the brevity of Rev. Robertson’s remarks, his lecture coming in at a little over 15 minutes, leaving plenty of time, though, for the Q&A period. After a brief introduction by CTS President David Mellott, a lithe, very young-looking Brandan Robertson took to the podium and read his prepared notes with ease and confidence. It was obviously a “sermon” he had delivered many times before.
The Shelton Auditorium, which until recently also served as a functioning theater (I’ve been there several times), seats approximately 400, I would estimate, with around 50 (based on my quick head count) attending the lecture, a rather modest number when anticipating, as I was, a nearly packed house considering the “revolutionary” nature of the subject matter. Perhaps “queer theology” is subject to a niche audience, being, at best, a niche theology. Alas, it seemed like the earnest Rev. Robertson ended up “preaching to the choir,” with a few interested outsiders like myself. There was an “amen” along the way, some spontaneous applause when Robertson scored a particular point, e.g., a negative remark directed at President Trump (a rather easy target), but, all in all, the lecture felt uninspired, full of tired tropes laced together—the “oppressor vs. the oppressed” narrative, etc.—placating the “itching ears” of those who had come to be “affirmed” by one of their own. It had more the feel of a comfy, “group therapy session” than a stirring revival setting hearts on fire for the “Revolution Not Reformation” to come.
But, of this, my good friends, you can be certain: it is a “revolution not reformation” that Rev. Robertson is calling for. His rhetoric is far more than performative art or theatrics; he’s a modern Pied Piper, his “inclusive theological content reaching over 250,000 followers” and garnering “6 million views,” according to his publicity, with thousands of his minions coming from our progressive seminaries and churches—the pain and trauma of rejection seemingly the common denominator binding them all—a pain at the hands of an oppressive, conservative Church and body politic, resulting in an anger and fear which contextually sustains queer theology and fuels the queer movement onward, often, if truth were spoken, with violent results. Robertson freely draws upon the social movements of the past—the suffragette movement, the abolitionist movement, the black liberation movement, the civil rights movement—seeing a socially transforming queer movement as the only hope for the full liberation of queer folk (the umbrella term for LGBT and beyond), and the only real hope for the survival of an inclusively loving Church. The orthodox Church that is faithful to the ancient creeds and traditional interpretation of Scripture is to be feared. You and I—we are all to be feared, instilling, as we reportedly do, the queer with endless fears for their safety and lives, solely based on our traditional beliefs.
After several people at the Q&A shared their fearful, painful narratives (with an appropriately emphatic Robertson comforting the disconsolate), I was prepared to be the one “pushback” questioner that Robertson had actually elicited when he began the Q&A. Rather abruptly, or so it seemed to me, Dr. Mellott ended the session without so much as an “Are there any more questions?” or even a perfunctory closing prayer. I quickly left with cane in hand and walked down the long hallway leading to the parking lot. Before getting to the car, though, I turned around and walked back down the hallway to the reception area where 25 or so had gathered for light refreshments and for Rev. Robertson’s signature in his latest book, “Queer Christian,” sold at the table by “Loudmouth Books” of Indianapolis. Standing in the short line, I had no idea what I would say, softly mumbled a prayer to myself, and extended my hand to Rev. Robertson.
“Hello.”
“Hi, I’m Brandan. What’s your name?”
“I’m D. Paul, and I just wanted to say a couple of things, not having the opportunity at the Q&A.”
“Sure.”
“First, I disagree with you on most everything, Rev. Robertson, but I wanted you to know—I love you. That’s what Christ calls me to do, even as Christ calls you to love me.”
At this point, his expression tightened (understandably so) and we stared at one another for what seemed the longest time. I then told him I’d be praying for him and asked him to pray for me, which he said he would, and told me, after I had asked him, where I might email him. We shook hands again and I walked away, only to realize that President Mellott was walking beside me and soon asking me who I was. After some small banter walking down the hallway to where his office was, I said to him the same thing I’d said, in essence, to Rev. Robertson.
“We’ve got to learn to love one another. That’s what Christ calls us to do. Because you disagree with me in your progressive views, President Mollett, I’m not to vilify you, hate you, live in fear of you, nor are you of me. Surely, we can disagree but continue, in Christ, to love one another, can we not?” Nodding his head, he seemed to agree and wanted to know my name again. I was definitely the identified interloper. We soon shook hands and parted company amicably.
With a heavy heart, though, I slipped into my car, and now, my dear brothers and sisters in Christ, let the truth be known: After the slide, seen below, came up on the theatre screen with “It’s Time To Queer Christianity” message punctuating the lecture,
there was a part of me that wanted to stand up in the back of the auditorium and shout, “Heresy, lies, a mythological narrative told by a ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing.’” But on this fair, Oct. 2nd fall day, that was not my condemnatory judgement to make. It is God’s judgement to make, whenever and however he pleases.* What prompted me when I turned around and walked back down that hallway were the words of Jesus:
Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven (Matthew 5:43-45 KJV).
The clear, unambiguous language of Jesus seems most appropriate for our vitriolic age. Yes, I am more than an intrusive interloper, and because I don’t believe in a nonbinary word (a totally new species of humankind), you perceive me as your “enemy,” but, nonetheless, Jesus says you are to love me, bless me, do good to me, and pray for me. And because what you believe is in contrast to my belief, you too are perceived as an “enemy,” but Jesus still says I am to love you, bless you, do good to you, and pray for you. Now that’s radical!
This, my dear friends, is the true social “revolution” the world is crying out for, even if unconsciously. This is the radical, life-changing/world changing Gospel, found only in the love of Jesus Christ. None of us can do it on our own! To know that love, may you, may I, may the Rev. Brandan Robertson be found IN HIM, and in Him alone—our true identity.
Amen
*Such judgement, in part, seems to be coming to pass: The Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), which CTS is a part of, has experienced substantial loss in membership over the past several decades. Membership peaked in 1958 just shy of 2 million. By 1993, membership had dropped below 1 million. By 2009, membership was reported at 658,869. In 2017, it was reported to have 450,425 members.
The Church’s One Foundation IS Jesus Christ Her Lord!