Apophatic Eternalism in Theology

Eternalism in theology may explore the eternal nature of God or ultimate reality, and it may hold that there are eternal truths or realities in God and/or eternal essences or principles in the universe. It may be distinguished from eternalism in the philosophy of time (which is opposed to presentism, and which holds that not only present objects, but also past and future objects exist).

      Apophatic or negative eternalism in theology may be a branch of apophatic or negative theology that attempts to better understand the eternal nature of God's existence by understanding what it is not (just as apophatic or negative theology attempts to better understand God by understanding what God is not).

      Negative theology may attempt to formulate true propositions about who or what God is by formulating propositions about who or what God is not. On the other hand, negative theology may also hold that since God transcends our understanding, we can never fully establish the truth of any propositions about God. Thus, any real knowledge or adequate understanding of who or what God is may be impossible.

      Negative theology may also hold that since we can't fully understand who or what God is, we can't predicate any positive attributes or properties of God. We can only predicate negative attributes or properties (or say what God is not).

      Similarly, one kind of apophatic eternalism in theology may attempt to better understand the concept of eternal life by understanding what it is not. By making negative statements about eternal life and what it is not, apophatic eternalism may attempt to arrive at a cataphatic or positive understanding of what eternal life is and what it consists of.

      In the Christian faith, this may mean that one way of understanding the meaning of a "resurrected life" or "resurrection life" may be to try to understand what it is not (an earthly life as lived before, a life without redemption from sin, a life without hope or understanding, a life without spiritual transformation).

      Another kind of apophatic eternalism in theology may attempt to to clarify the sense in which God's existence is eternal, by clarifying the sense in which it is not (eternally changing or unchanging, eternally present in all things or in only some things, for example).

      Apophatic eternalism may be motivated by uncertainty, doubt, or skepticism about the existence of God, by perplexity, puzzlement, or suspension of judgment about the concept of eternal life, or by the perception that we need to reexamine the meaning of statements about attaining eternal life and becoming one with God in eternity. It may therefore also be motivated by the perception that we need to clarify the meaning, use, and purpose of religious language about such concepts. The meaning of the term "eternal life" may be ineffable and indefinable (because the nature of that life may not be totally clear to us during our present lives), and just as we may differ in our understanding of what we mean by the word "God," so we may also differ in our understanding of what we mean by terms such as "eternal life," "the afterlife," "life after death," and "life beyond death."

Some Defects of Moral Particularism

Moral particularism may be described as the position that our moral thinking should be guided by the morally relevant features of particular cases or situations, rather than by general principles of conduct. The particularist can always find exceptions to moral principles or can find cases in which those principles may be inapplicable, misleading, or insufficient. The particularist therefore contends that our moral judgments are always context-dependent, and that the rightness or wrongness of our moral judgments depends on the relevant features of each particular case or situation, rather than the application of moral principles to that particular case or situation.  

      Pekka Vӓyrynen (2011) describes three kinds of particularism: (1) the position that there are no true or valid moral principles, (2) the position that there's no good evidence for their existence, and (3) the position that our moral thinking in no way depends on their existence.¹ He explains that a prominent argument for particularism is the argument from "holism," that a moral reason to perform an action in a particular context may not be a reason to perform that action in another context, while the argument from "atomism" may say to the contrary that a moral reason to perform an action in a particular context may also be a reason to perform that action in another context.²

      Jonathan Dancy (2004) distinguishes between holism and atomism by saying that holism is the claim that a moral reason in one case may be no reason at all (or even a contrary reason) in another case, while "full atomism" is the claim that a moral reason in one case must remain a reason, and must retain the same reason-giving polarity, in every other case. He distinguishes between "full atomism" and "cluster atomism" (the claim that features occur in clusters, and that if all the features in one case are relevantly similar to the features in another case, then any feature that is a reason in one will be a reason in the other.) However, he notes that an argument against cluster atomism is that the polarity of features in a cluster could be affected by changes in the polarity of features in a relevantly similar cluster. A weaker form of atomism would merely claim that if two cases are relevantly similar, then whatever features are reasons in one case will also be reasons in the other.³

      Dancy also distinguishes between theoretical reasons and practical reasons, and between reasons for belief and reasons for action. He explains that the kind of holism he advocates is intended to hold for both sides of each distinction.⁴  

      Michael Ridge and Sean McKeever (2016) explain that the particularist argument from holism has been rejected by generalists who question the sustainability of the distinction between the particular features of a situation that count as reasons and the contextual factors (defeaters, enablers, etc.) that impact whether they do indeed count as reasons. The context-sensitivity of reasons depends on this distinction in order to explain why some particular feature of a situation that counts as a reason in one context may not count as a reason in another context.⁵

      Ridge and McKeever also explain that generalists have rejected the argument from holism on the grounds that it may not be able to explain how reasons, enablers, defeaters, intensifiers/attenuators, etc. actually combine or interact with one another.⁶

      Even if we grant that moral principles may not always be generalizable, there are other arguments to be made against particularism, however.

      In Act 1, Scene 3 of Hamlet, Polonius gives his son Laertes the following advice, as Laertes prepares to leave for France:

Give thy thoughts no tongue.

Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.

Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,

Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment

Of each new-hatch’d, unfledged comrade. Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,

Bear’t that the opposed may beware of thee.

Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;

Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;

For the apparel oft proclaims the man,

And they in France of the best rank and station

Are of a most select and generous chief in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be;

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all: to thine own self be true,

And it must follow, as the night the day,

Thou canst not then be false to any man.

      While we might question the generalizability of any or all of these principles, the possibility that they might convey some moral wisdom would seem to be denied by particularism. Indeed, particularism doesn't seem to allow for moral instruction from any general principles of fairness, honesty, loyalty, prudence, humility, and so on. However, further examination of the extent to which such principles actually promote virtuous conduct might provide some evidence for their validity.

      On the other hand, a particularist virtue ethics (virtue ethical particularism) may seek to understand the way in which moral virtues may be expressed by judgments that depend on the relevant features of each particular case or situation. In such an ethics, the rightness or wrongness of actions may depend on the degree to which those actions express moral virtues rather than the degree to which they conform to general principles of conduct.

      Another defect of particularism, however, is that it doesn't seem to allow for the fact that some principles may accommodate contextual variability and may not necessarily be rigid and inflexible. Some principles may appropriately yield or defer to other principles of wider application or higher priority.

      Another defect of particularism is that it doesn't seem to allow for the possibility of moral learning and experience, and for the generalizability of what has been learned from previous relevant cases. Vӓyrynen (2011) explains that particularists may reply that discovering the morally relevant features of a particular case may enable us to learn what kinds of features may be relevant in subsequent cases. However, it's still difficult to see how this can happen without grasping some generally applicable principles.⁷

      

FOOTNOTES

¹Pekka Vӓyrynen, "Moral Particularism," in The Continuum Companion to Ethics, edited by Christian Miller (New York: Continuum, 2011), p. 251.

²Ibid., p. 253.

³Jonathan Dancy, Ethics Without Principles (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2004), p. 94.

⁴Ibid., p. 74.

⁵Michael Ridge and Sean McKeever, "Moral Particularism and Moral Generalism," in Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (2016), online at https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/moral-particularism-generalism/.

⁶Ibid.

⁷Vӓyrynen, p. 258.

Pascal's Penseés

Blaise Pascal was a French mathematician, physicist, and religious philosopher who was born in 1623 in Clermont (now Clermont-Ferrand) and died in 1662 in Paris (at the age of 39, probably of tuberculosis and stomach cancer). His father Étienne (1588-1651) was a government official, and his mother Antoinette (1596-1626) was the daughter of a merchant in Clermont. She died when Blaise was three years old. He had two sisters, Gilberte (1620-1687) and Jacqueline (1625-1661). He was educated by his father, and at a young age he distinguished himself as a mathematician. In 1651, his father Étienne died, and his sister Jacqueline entered the Jansenist convent at Port-Royal. Jansenism was a theological movement named after the Dutch Catholic Bishop of Ypres in Flanders, Cornelis Jansen (in Latin, Cornelius Jansenius, 1585-1638), whose writings emphasized the importance of original sin, the necessity of divine grace, and the predestination of some, but not everyone, to be chosen for salvation. It was declared a heresy by Pope Innocent X in 1653. In 1654, Blaise had an intense religious experience that caused him to convert to Jansenism, and he joined his sister Jacqueline at Port-Royal. His subsequent writings included the Lettres Provinciales (Provincial Letters, 1656-57), which attacked the teachings of the Jesuits and defended Jansenism, and the Penseés (Thoughts, 1670), which were fragments of a projected defense of Christianity.

      The Penseés are a series of aphorisms or reflections, varying in length from a single sentence to more than twenty paragraphs, and numbering 923 in all. They are divided into thirteen sections, on such topics as "The Misery of Man without God," "Morality and Doctrine," and "The Fundamentals of the Christian Religion," with an appended fourteenth section of "Polemical Fragments," addressing the controversy between the Jesuits and the Jansenists.

      Pascal attacks those philosophers who teach the goodness of human nature, and who see the highest good as the good to be found within ourselves, thereby placing us on an equal level with God. He argues that human nature has been corrupted by original sin. We're all born into sin, and we're obligated to resist or overcome it. He therefore condemns self-love (amour-propre), insofar as it reflects self-will rather than divine will, and insofar as it reflects love of self rather than love of God. He says that we can be blinded by self-love and by the instinct to place ourselves on an equal level with God (492). Indeed, we're so full of faults and imperfections that it's difficult to understand how we can feel such love for ourselves, given that we don't often feel the same kind of love for others (100).

      Since we're often blinded by self-love and self-will, the nature of God is largely hidden from us. Just as God may be infinitely knowing, God may be infinitely incomprehensible to us. The fact that there are many other religions besides Christianity is also a sign that God's nature may be hidden from us. If God's nature were apparent and manifest, then there might be only one religion that humanity would feel called to follow (585).

      However, Pascal also says that God is within us. The kingdom of God is within us, just as the universal good (le bien universel) is within us (485). But the universal good is to be found within us only insofar as God is to be found within us. Thus, "Happiness is neither without us nor within us. It is in God, both without us and within us" (465).¹ Jesus Christ the Redeemer can be found within us, and can be found within all persons (785).

      Pascal affirms the centrality of Christ to our knowledge of God. "Not only do we know God by Jesus Christ alone, but we know ourselves only by Jesus Christ...Apart from Jesus Christ, we do not know what is our life, nor our death, nor God, nor ourselves" (547).² "It is not only impossible but useless to know God without Jesus Christ" ("Il n'est seulement impossible, mais inutile de connaître Dieu sans Jesus-Christ," 548).³

      Reason (la raison) and feeling (le sentiment) may be seen as competing impulses in human nature. Reason may act methodically and deliberately, while feeling may act quickly and spontaneously (252). Faith is to be found in feeling, since reason ultimately can't prove the truths of faith and religion. "If we must not act except on certainty," says Pascal, then "we ought not to act on religion, for it is not certain. But...there is more certainty in religion than there is as to whether we may see tomorrow" (234).⁴ We should therefore avoid both the extreme of depending on reason alone and the extreme of depending on intuition or feeling alone (253). 

      Faith is a gift from God, rather than a gift from reasoning (279). However, faith isn't contrary to reason, and it doesn't call us to disobey reason. Indeed, "Reason commands us far more imperiously than a master, for in disobeying the one we are unfortunate, but in disobeying the other we are fools," (345).⁵ Having faith doesn't mean being blind to reason or to the evidence of sensory experience. Faith tells us what we can't confirm by sensory experience, but it doesn't contradict what we can confirm by sensory experience (265).

      Reason tells us when we should submit to feeling. Indeed, reason tells us that there are an infinity of things that surpass our understanding, and that there are matters that can only be resolved by faith or feeling. "Reason would never submit if it did not judge that there are occasions on which it ought to submit. It is then right for it to submit when it judges that it ought to submit" (270).⁶ Thus, "There is nothing so conformable to reason as this disavowal of reason" (272),⁷ and "All our reasoning [therefore] reduces itself to yielding to feeling" (274).⁸

      Pascal also argues that it is the heart and not the faculty of reasoning (raisonnement) that experiences God. "This, then, is faith, God felt by the heart, not by reason" (278).⁹ The heart has its own reasons for feeling, which can't be known solely by the intellect (277, 283). Thus, we can know truth not only by reason, but also by the heart (282). The heart can provide access to truth, just as reason can provide access to truth.

      Pascal argues that even if we can't prove that God exists, we can still choose whether to believe or disbelieve in God's existence by weighing the potential gains or losses to be obtained from making either of these two choices. This is known as Pascal's wager--the decision to affirm or deny the existence of God (233). Practically speaking, we can't merely sit on the fence and be skeptical or agnostic. We have to make a choice, and Pascal's argument for affirming the existence of God is that we have much more to gain by believing than by disbelieving in God's existence.

FOOTNOTES

¹Blaise Pascal, Pascal's Penseés, translated by W.F. Trotter (New York: E.P. Dutton, 1958), p. 111.

²Ibid., p. 126.

³Ibid., p. 126.

⁴Ibid., p. 59.

⁵Ibid., p. 82.

⁶Ibid., p. 67.

⁷Ibid., p. 67.

⁸Ibid., p. 67.

⁹Ibid., p. 68.

A Meditation on Life and Death

The following is a reflection I shared at the "Faith at Eight" service at our church on Sunday, November 6, 2022.

I'm troubled by the last paragraph of today's reading from the gospel (Luke 20:27-38), in which Jesus says that 

"Those who...are considered worthy of a place...in the resurrection of the dead...cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection. And the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, in the story about the bush, where he speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive."

      It's almost as if Jesus is saying that death isn't real, and that it doesn't exist. But I believe that death is real, and that it does exist. 

      Death is certain. Each one of us will die one day. Every living thing and every living being will die one day. There's no one who has ever permanently avoided death. Each day of our lives, we're drawing closer to death. And death is always on the horizon, drawing nearer to us, although we don't know precisely when it will arrive. The horizon of death may indeed be a background for whatever gives life its meaning.¹ Death is an inescapable reality. 

      So I'm wondering why we as Christians are so attached to the concept of the eternity of life, while other religious and philosophical traditions, such as Buddhism, Daoism, Hinduism, and the ancient philosophy of Stoicism, teach the importance of non-attachment to the things of this life and to things that are temporary. I think Christianity shares with those traditions the teaching that we shouldn't be attached to temporary things like money, property and possessions, but I think that we as Christians are particularly attached to the concept that life is eternal.

      Now, I'm not a scholar of Buddhism, so I hope I get this right, but Tibetan Buddhism teaches that there are four kinds of attachment. The four attachments are attachment to the temporary, attachment to the cycle of life and death, attachment to solitary liberation, and attachment to misconceptions about reality. According to the bodhisattva Manjushri, "If you have attachment to this life, then you're not a Dharma practitioner. If you have attachment to the realm of samsara, then you don't have renunciation. If you have attachment to your own benefit, then you don't have the thought of enlightenment. And if clinging arises, then you don't possess the view."²

      Buddhism teaches that everything is impermanent. All things are temporary, and if we're attached to temporary things, then suffering arises when we lose them. The path to the cessation of suffering is the eightfold path of righteousness: right views, right intentions, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration. Although we may be attached to all sorts of things, such as wealth, property, belongings, social status, prestige, power, and so on, attachment to such things will cause us to feel frustrated and disappointed when we lose them.

      I think that in Hinduism the concept of moksha is analogous to the concept of nirvana in Buddhism. Moksha is release from samsara, from the endless cycle of life and death. Moksha is freedom from ignorance, and from misconceptions about reality. Moksha is freedom from illusion, and from mistaking the temporary for the eternal. Moksha is liberation from bondage to the cycle of life and death, a kind of release rather than a kind of attachment.

      The ancient philosophy of Stoicism, as taught by philosophers like Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, also teaches the importance of non-attachment to things that are temporary. Epictetus teaches us that if we're attached to things that are beyond our power to control, then we won't be able to retain our equanimity. He says that wisdom involves knowing what is within our power to control and knowing what is not within our power to control. Wisdom also involves knowing what is within our power to change and knowing what is not within our power to change. Wisdom thus enables us to accept those things that are not within our power to control or to change, and it also enables us not to be attached to such things.

      Against this, I would argue that there are good kinds of attachment. I think that attachment to loved ones and to friends and family is good. I think that attachment to social ideals like peace and justice in society is good. Not all kinds of attachment are bad. But clearly there is a place for non-attachment or detachment as well.

      So I'm wondering why we as Christians are so attached to the concept that death has no power over us and that we can live in an eternal dominion or kingdom ruled by God. I'm not sure we fully acknowledge the reality of death or that we really acknowledge death as such--death as death. 

      Whenever someone dies or passes away, we say they're not really dead, and that they're still living in our hearts, and that they'll remain with us for all eternity. We see death as a transitional stage leading to another kind of life. 

      Last week, in a death notice for the Rev. Dr. Calvin Butts, pastor of Abyssinian Baptist Church in Harlem, instead of saying that Pastor Butts died or passed away on the morning of October 28th, the notice said that Pastor Butts "peacefully transitioned" on the morning of October 28th.³

      In Christianity, there's this whole theological framework around the concept of the eternity of life. John 3:16 says, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life." Romans 6:23 says, "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus." John 11:25-26 says that before Jesus raised Martha's brother Lazarus from the dead, he told her, "I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, though they die, yet shall they live, and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die." And Romans 6:8-10 tells us that if we've died with Christ, then we'll also live with him. Death will have no power over us, if we're dead to sin but alive to God.

      But I wonder whether we can ever be truly mindful and fully aware of the present moment if we believe that life simply goes on forever! How can we truly appreciate the preciousness of life, and how can we truly realize that life is a gift, unless we realize that life is temporary? And how can we find peace in death, unless we're ready to accept death when it arrives?

      Life and death are inseparable. They're everywhere and all around us.

      But maybe this isn't at all what Jesus is talking about. Maybe he's talking about something totally different, because he's not talking about an earthly life, he's talking about a resurrection life! And maybe a resurrection life is totally different from life as we know it! And maybe it's even beyond our knowing or understanding! What then is a resurrection life?

FOOTNOTES

¹Lama Jampa Thaye, "The Stages of the Path: Parting from the Four Attachments - Part 1," online at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=80xvCcq0pMI.

²Lama Jampa Thaye, "Parting from the Four Attachments: Attachment to the Temporary," Tricycle, March 2014, online at https://tricycle.org/dharmatalks/parting-four-attachments-0/attachment-to-the-temporary/.

³Adelle Banks, "Calvin Butts, Leader of Harlem's Historic Abyssinian Baptist Church, Dies at 73," The Roys Report, October 31, 2022, online at https://julieroys.com/calvin-butts-leader-harlem-historic-abyssinian-baptist-church-has-died/.

      

Inclusion and Belonging

The following is a reflection I shared with my fellow parishioners at the "Faith at Eight" service at our church on Sunday, August 7, 2022. Bill Roberts' response is included with his permission.

I'd like to share with you an email I sent this past week to Bill Roberts, our Senior Warden, about the lectionary reading today from the Gospel According to Luke, and I'd also like to share with you his very kind and thoughtful response.

      Hi Bill,

      I noticed in the lectionary readings for this coming Sunday that the Gospel According to Luke (12:32-40) contains the following paragraph:

"Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn and finds them so, blessed are those slaves."

      The gospel reading says that some people are blessed to be slaves. To whom is this reading addressed? Is it addressed to Black Episcopalians? If it is, is it telling us, as so many White racists have, that slave masters were good to us, and that we were better off as slaves? If it's not addressed to us, then why is it going to be read to us? Are we supposed to accept it passively as members of the congregation? If the reading is only addressed to the congregation as a whole, and not specifically to its Black members, then why are we being ignored or unrecognized?

      I don't have any problem with the reading if it's going to be put in context by the reader or preacher on Sunday. But I think it's a mistake to present readings like this without appropriate context.

      For the last two years, I've been concerned with the question of addressivity. When I listen to the lectionary readings on Sunday, I wonder: To whom are these readings addressed? Are they addressed to us? How are they addressed to us? If they're not addressed to us and are merely addressed to the Romans or Galatians or Colossians, then why are we reading them? Are we reading them merely out of historical interest? Are they only indirectly addressed to us or are they in fact directly addressed to us?

      My concern with the question of addressivity began about two years ago, when for four or five Sundays in a row, in the aftermath of the killing of George Floyd and the wave of protests that swept across the country, we had a series of lectionary readings from Peter and Paul saying that we're blessed when we suffer, and that we should feel blessed in our suffering. Below is a link to a blog article I wrote about this concept of suffering, which I discussed in a reflection at the Faith at Eight service. It's a rather long reflection, so I don't actually expect you to read through it, but it expresses my concern about what the Church is telling its Black parishioners and parishioners of color.

https://philosophyreaders.blogspot.com/2020/07/the-christian-concept-of-suffering.html

      This problem of lectionary readings being presented without appropriate context isn't a problem specific to Memorial Episcopal Church, it's a problem of the whole Episcopal Church--unrecognized and waiting to be addressed--just as Black Episcopalians are waiting to be addressed and waiting to be spoken to directly as Black Episcopalians.

      How does the Episcopal Church expect to attract Blacks to its membership if it doesn't speak directly to them? When do members of the church hierarchy ever speak directly to Black Episcopalians, except perhaps at an annual convention of the UBE (Union of Black Episcopalians)? Why are we only recognized as members of larger (usually largely white) congregations or as members of a beloved (i.e. mostly white or integrated) community, rather than as having interests and concerns of our own?

      I don't expect you, Bill, to have an immediate solution for this problem, but thanks for giving me a chance to blow off a little steam, and maybe this problem is one the Worship Committee can address (I can't get away from that word) in the future.

      Your brother in Christ,

      Alex

      This was Bill's very perceptive and insightful response:

      Alex, I understand your concern, and I share it. There are many references in scripture that are troublesome to me: uncritical characterizations of slaves and slavery, such as you mention here, references to the deity in feudal--and always masculine--terms (princes, kings, etc.), and many others, that I find unhelpful at best, and directly counter to the message of the gospel at worst. I have sometimes heard these things addressed from the pulpit, but as sermons are time-limited, many times preachers just don't ever get around to addressing these jarring terms, or putting them in context.

      I think your indictment of the Episcopal Church as being friendly to Black people only when it suits them has strong evidence to support it. I believe that there has been a shift in this during Michael Curry's episcopate, but the church has a long way to go, as he often says.

      I am not a theologian, or anything remotely close to it, and I don't articulate on this issue very effectively. But I have often wished for a revised lectionary that would present scripture in enlightened terms, helping us to get to the message that Jesus wants us to understand, rather than just putting it out there unvarnished (translated by whom and with what motives?), leaving us to suppose what we will about who it is addressing and what it is trying to say. Sermons are supposed to help us with that, and--at least at Memorial--they very often do. For me, at least. The other thing that has helped me with this is Bible study, which, pre-COVID, I used to enjoy at Memorial. I know I wouldn't feel the same way about Bible study on Zoom, as I never feel truly connected to a group that way, so I continue to hope the day will come when we will be able to gather in indoor groups for discussion the way we used to, unmasked.

      I have no real answer for you about what to do about it. But I do want you to know that I hear you, and validate your concerns. And in our little corner of the Episcopal Church that is Memorial, I think we have a lot of company.

      Bill

      So I'm very grateful to Bill for his being so kind and supportive, and for making me feel validated.

      This past week, I was reading a new book by the Rev. Gayle Fisher-Stewart entitled Black and Episcopalian: The Struggle for Inclusion (2022), in which she describes a "plantation theology," a "plantation eschatology that told the enslaved that if they were good slaves and obeyed their masters, one day they would get to heaven."¹ 

      Although I see the problem of being Black and Episcopalian as more a matter of the addressivity (or lack of it) of the Church's teachings for Black Episcopalians than a matter of the struggle of Black Episcopalians to be included in the Church, I think Rev. Fisher-Stewart's description of plantation theology might well be applied to our gospel reading today.

      A few weeks ago, Father Grey asked us what we thought about the importance of hospitality and welcome, and I think I said something to the effect that we must also acknowledge the importance of making people feel like they belong. During my recent fiftieth high school reunion, when the board of trustees was talking about its diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives at the school, one of the members of the board of trustees said that it's not enough for a school to be welcoming and inclusive, it also has to offer its students a sense of belonging. I think the same is true of a church. A church has to offer its members a sense of belonging.

      As I was reading more this past week about this concept of belonging, I learned that in human resource management, the trend has been shifting over the last few years from an emphasis on diversity and inclusion to an emphasis on diversity, equity, and inclusion, and most recently to an emphasis on diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging (thus, the acronym DEIB).² Although these human resource principles have focused on the workplace, I think they may also be applied to the Church. It's not enough for a church to promote diversity, equity, and inclusiveness. It must also promote a sense of belonging, if it's to fulfill its mission to its members.

      An inclusive church, and a church where people feel a sense of belonging, is a place where people feel safe and where they don't have to be afraid to reveal their talents, abilities, and aspirations, as well as their doubts, insecurities, and uncertainties.³ It's a place where people can fully express themselves and can reveal who they truly are, without having to worry about being judged or criticized, and where they can contribute to the church's mission by utilizing their own particular talents and abilities.

      A church where people feel a sense of belonging is also a space where everyone can bring their whole self to worship and can express themselves freely, a place where everyone belongs, and where everyone feels a shared sense of purpose.⁴ It' s place where people feel valued for who they are, and where it's recognized that each of us is different in some way from others. It's also a place where people are celebrated for the unique contributions they make to the church and to the community.

      At the same time, it should be recognized that principles of diversity, equity, and inclusion are not just about race and gender, they're also about ethnicity, sexual orientation, spirituality, religious beliefs, political opinions, and so on.

      Being a church where people feel a sense of belonging is more than just being a church where inclusiveness is encouraged. Just because someone is included in a church doesn't necessarily mean they feel like they belong.⁵ Belonging reflects a sense of connection, an appreciation for being recognized as an individual, as well as a sense of shared purpose and commitment.

      In a video entitled "Why Should I Be an Episcopalian?" former Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori is asked the question, "If I were a person without a church or a denomination, and I came to you and asked you about becoming an Episcopalian, what would you say to me to convince me to become an Episcopalian?" and Bishop Schori responds very honestly and eloquently by saying, "The Episcopal Church is a tradition that thinks that your gifts are important, that thinks that you have a ministry by virtue of being baptized, and that the job of this group of people called the Church is to support each other in living that out in the world. We are a diverse body of people, we don't all think the same thing. Sometimes that's challenging, but it's also exciting...You will find in this body people to love, and people who will love you, and people who will challenge you, and they may be the same ones. This body will challenge you to grow, to develop in your relationship with God, to develop in your ability to serve your neighbor, and to love your neighbor and serve God in the process."⁶

      When I heard Bishop Schori say the Episcopal Church is a church where every member has a ministry by virtue of being baptized, her words really resonated for me. A church where people feel a sense of belonging is a church where every member is encouraged to fulfill their own sense of ministry.

      At the same time, I'm not downplaying the importance of welcome and hospitality. The Rev. Stephanie Spellers, in her book Radical Welcome: Embracing God, The Other, and the Spirit of Transformation (2006), defines radical welcome as "the spiritual practice of embracing and being changed by the gifts, presence, voices, and power of the Other: the people systematically cast out of or marginalized within a church, a denomination, and/or society."⁷ She distinguishes between what radical welcome is and what it is not. She says that radical welcome is hospitable, it's connected, it's centered, it's open to conversion, it's intentional, it's comprehensive, it's becoming, it's beyond diversity, it's faithful, it's compassionate, and it's real. On the other hand, radical welcome is not an invitation to assimilation, it's not a feel-good ministry, it's not reverse discrimination, it's not a conventional church growth strategy, and it's not political correctness or "a haphazard, reactionary throwing out of the baby with the bathwater."⁸ But the radically welcoming congregation is not merely an inviting or inclusive congregation. Radical welcome goes beyond inviting, beyond encouraging diversity, and beyond inclusion. Rev. Spellers says "the movement from inviting to inclusion to radical welcome is the move toward cultivating mutually transforming relationship." That is, when we as a church radically welcome those who have been marginalized or not welcomed in the past, we ourselves are changed and transformed by the process of developing relationships with them.⁹

      So I'd like to thank all of you for helping me to grow, to feel connected, to feel refreshed, to feel encouraged, to recognize the importance of love in the ministry of our rector, our deacon, our vestry, and so many other members of our church, and to feel a sense of belonging to this community.

FOOTNOTES

¹Gayle Fisher-Stewart, Black and Episcopalian: The Struggle for Inclusion (New York: Church Publishing, 2022), p. 9.

²Neelie Verlinden, "Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging (DEIB): A 2022 Overview," AIHR (Academy to Innovate HR), online at https://www.aihr.com/blog/diversity-equity-inclusion-belonging-deib/#:~:text=sense%20of%20belonging.-,What's%20the%20difference%20between%20inclusion%20and%20belonging%3F,results%20from%20your%20inclusion%20efforts

³Ibid.

⁴Ibid.

⁵Anita Sands, "Diversity and Inclusion aren't what matter. Belonging is what counts," March 26, 2019, online at https://anitasands.medium.com/diversity-and-inclusion-arent-what-matter-belonging-is-what-counts-4a75bf6565b5

⁶Jim DeLa, "Why should I be an Episcopalian?", online at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQSWporCpfY&t=9s

⁷Stephanie Spellers, Radical Welcome: Embracing God, The Other, and the Spirit of Transformation (New York: Church Publishing, 2006), p. 6.

⁸Ibid., pp. 15-18.

⁹Ibid., p. 72.