This piece is part of an on-going blog series called Plurality 2.0 (watch video here). Full schedule of guest authors throughout April and May is available here.
Brian McLaren is an author, speaker, pastor, and networker among innovative Christian leaders, thinkers, and activists. For a more extensive bio, check out brianmclaren.net.
Reframing the Question…
For a lot of Christians of all stripes, the first question that comes to mind when we think of people of other faiths is about them … are they in or out, going to heaven or hell? We’ve been trained to think of “the other” in these in-out terms for centuries in Western Christianity – a result of our affair with Greco-Roman imperialism, I think, but that’s another story (which I’ll go into in some detail in my 2010 book, A New Kind of Christianity: Ten Questions that are Transforming the Faith).
In other words, our first question is: What about them? But you can’t have the right answer if you’re asking the wrong question, and I think our question is approximately 180 degrees off. What if our first question shouldn’t be “What about them?” but instead “What about us?”?
In other words, what if we began with a better question in our encounters with people of other faiths and no faith: “What is my duty as a disciple of Jesus to my friend or neighbor of another religion?” Now some of my friends will immediately reply, “My duty is to tell him he’s going straight to hell and he’d better repent and join our exclusively saving religion!” But once again, this response conveniently shifts the focus from my duty to his or her status.
Of course there’s a place and time for speculating on the fate of people of various religions and no religion. (Where and when – and for how long – is another question in itself.) But my sense, after spending quite a few years on the path of following Jesus, is that my primary duty is to look in the mirror and focus, not on the failures or deficits of “the other,” but on my own. My identity as a disciple prompts me to ask what it would mean for me to love my neighbor of another religion as myself, to do for my neighbor of another religion as I would have her do for me, to be willing to sacrifice and suffer (and even die) on her behalf, to take the Christ-like posture of a servant toward my neighbors of other religions – washing their feet, showing them true respect, considering them as better than myself and not looking out for my own interests only, but also theirs.
And this line of thinking raises still more questions: would I want my neighbor of another religion to be preoccupied with my status as an outsider – as “other”? Would I want him constantly seeing me either as a potential convert or as a threat and competitor in the religious market? Would I be happy for her to minimize any common ground we might share and instead, repeatedly and habitually maximize our differences? If my answer to these questions is no, then how can I justify doing these things to my neighbor?
In light of these kinds of questions, more and more of us are becoming convinced that true godliness leads to otherliness … and that to practice incarnation means, in Paul’s words, that we no longer “recognize” people “according to the flesh.” We’re wondering if religious insider-outsider thinking is more tainted with “fleshly” tribalism – perhaps even a kind of racism or cultural/religious imperialism – than we commonly admit.
At the end of the day, I know myself to be an evangelist at heart. I believe the good news of Jesus Christ is good news for all people. I am eager to offer the gift of Jesus and his good news to all people, whatever their religion. I am eager to help all people, whatever their religious identity, to “taste and see” how good God is, and to take on Jesus’ yoke so we will experience together his meekness and gentleness of heart. I am not a relativist in the sense of believing that beliefs don’t matter and that all viewpoints are equally valid or invalid.
But my confidence is in Jesus and his gospel – my confidence is not in us and our religious systems or institutions. I don’t think any religion – including my own – “owns” Jesus or has proprietary rights on his gospel of the kingdom of God. The good news taught by and embodied in Jesus is, I am discovering, far better than the half-good/half-bad version many of us were taught.
The way taught by Jesus’ gospel sends us into the world with an otherly attitude, not “us versus them,” but “us for all of us.” As apprentices who look to Jesus for leadership, we learn to listen to the Syrophonecian woman, and to stop ignoring her or calling her an outsider “dog.” We join Jesus in seeing her great faith. We similarly encounter the Samaritan woman, the Roman centurion, the Ethiopian eunuch, the Philippian slave girl and jailer, and so on … not seeing them suspiciously as outsiders to our in-group, but as people who are already loved, already welcome, already known, already wanted in God’s “come-on-in-group.”
These are some of my reflections on “plurality 2.0.” It’s not your grandfather’s exclusivism. It’s not your father’s relativism. It’s a way of approaching “the religiously other” that seeks harmony without homogeneity, relationship without colonialism, commitment without competition, sharing without assimilation. Perhaps you could say it seeks conversion – but mutual conversion, not dominating conquest.
Related posts:
- Brian Merritt on Plurality 2.0
- Jim Burklo on Plurality 2.0
- Matt Walker on Plurality 2.0
- Tony Hoshaw on Plurality 2.0













{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }
This post has made the whole series worth it. Thank you.
“I am eager to offer the gift of Jesus and his good news to all people, whatever their religion. I am eager to help all people, whatever their religious identity, to “taste and see” how good God is, and to take on Jesus’ yoke so we will experience together his meekness and gentleness of heart.”
May our hearts move in this direction….
My identity as a disciple prompts me to ask what it would mean for me to love my neighbor of another religion as myself, to do for my neighbor of another religion as I would have her do for me, to be willing to sacrifice and suffer (and even die) on her behalf, to take the Christ-like posture of a servant toward my neighbors of other religions – washing their feet, showing them true respect, considering them as better than myself and not looking out for my own interests only, but also theirs.
This is beautifully conceived, and right on. Now the question is, “What if ‘the other’s’ best interest is to hear the Gospel?” What if considering a member of another religion better than yourself means going to them with the good news of the resurrection? What if it is for the “other’s” sake that we tell them the truth: that peace, joy, and life may only be found in the life, death, and resurrection of the Son of God? I think you think it is in the other’s best interest for us to say these things. So why all the tip-toeing and the apology for proselytism?
And this line of thinking raises still more questions: would I want my neighbor of another religion to be preoccupied with my status as an outsider – as “other”? Would I want him constantly seeing me either as a potential convert or as a threat and competitor in the religious market? Would I be happy for her to minimize any common ground we might share and instead, repeatedly and habitually maximize our differences?
Yes. I do seek members of other religions who actually believe that their religion is totally and universally valid, such that they will at every turn attempt to convert me. Otherwise, they generally make for extremely boring conversation partners and friends. And I’m not kidding. I have friends like this and I am their friend because they challenge my own faith and they believe that their own faith is TRUE. I don’t want someone from another religion to “respect” me. I want them to believe and act like they believe the tenets of their tradition, despite my presence, even because of it.
Adam
Thank you for offering this series!
I like!
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Thank you, Brian. And thanks, Adam, for this series.
I totally wish I was Brian McLaren. He’s so gracious, articulate, and calm.
I’m going to go shave my head now…
A nazerite vow? Or a McLeren vow? Let’s ask Brian to be on The God Complex Radio?
That’s a great idea, Brian Merritt!
Hey, Brian McLaren! Would you come be on The God Complex Radio Show?
Thanks Brian and Adam. We are forming an NCD in Bend that will be built from the ground up to embody thus type of humble evangelism. We want to be an instrument for good in the whole community and welcome everyone into our events, activities, locations, discussions and be wiling to go into everyone’s world also. We will offer many ways to be engaged with others and to embody the love and grace of Jesus. We look forward to your new book Brian.
Fantastic post Brian! Love the thoughts and comments! Was pointed here by Jay Bakker on Twitter! Awesome! Looking forward to hearing more about the upcoming book you mention too!
Brian & Adam,
It sounds like Brian is exploring the command to show “Hospitality” that is woven throughout scripture. My comments and questions for what they are worth are as follows.
1. Brian makes many excellent points that I agree with. But where are the practical implications? For example what are the implications for….
a. immigration policy?
b. use of torture?
c. the “War on Terror” waged on Muslims?
d. the majority of Evangelicals supporting an ethnic state like Israel?
e. how I read Ezra and Nehemiah’s racism?
2. What does Luke 10 where Jesus sends out the 72 and then the author follows it with the Good Samaritan parable tell us about plurality? What happens to a person, town, or nation that refuses to provide food and shelter and leaves the dust stuck to the strangers feet (v.11)? My reading of Luke 10 tells me that people are not judged by if and how they receive the Gospel or if they fully comprehend it. Even the disciples did not fully comprehend when Jesus was with them. It is my opinion that the Bible teaches all people are judged by the degree to which they show hospitality to the “other”. What does Matthew 25 tell us about how God will judge our pluralism?
3. Roger Williams and the colony of Providence he founded has a great deal to teach us in terms of what Plurality, especially in the context of religion should look like. America and American Christianity is at its greatest when our plurality is rooted in Providence and not Salem/Plymouth. His writings including his plea for religious liberty (http://www.constitution.org/bcp/religlib.htm) has much to teach in how we can prophetically follow Christ by supporting pluralism in the face of colonization and proselytism.
4. The Christian tradition calls for discernment in how to respond to the “other”. What happens when a prophet emerges that challenges our definition of the “other”? In Roger Williams case he was persecuted and forced into exile for preaching against Puritanicalism and persecution of terrorist-Native- American-Savages. On the same note some slave owning Quakers allowed and supported Abolitionist Quakers to advocate their cause because they felt the Abolitionists had a “calling”. Christians may disagree on who the “other” may be but using discernment and allowing the Spirit to speak and move will eventually blow boundaries and cultural constructions of the “other” away. In my own parish those that “disagree” with a homosexual lifestyle allow homosexuals to lead the choir or serve in the highest position of the church because they have the maturity to recognize the value of pluralism and that people who may be “other” to us can still have a legitimate “calling” from God.
I will end with a quote:
“The most fascinating figure of America’s forma- tive seventeenth century,” Roger Williams has now gained general acceptance as a symbol of a critical turning point in American thought and institutions. He was the first American to advocate and activate complete freedom of conscience, dissociation of church and state, and genuine political democracy. From his first few weeks in America he openly raised the banner of “rigid Separatism.” In one year in Salem he converted the town into a stronghold of radical Separatism and threw the entire Bay Colony into an uproar. Banished for his views, after being declared guilty of “a frontal assault on the foundations of the Bay system,” he escaped just as he was to be deported to England.
He settled in Providence with thirteen other householders and in one year formed the first genuine democracy, as well as the first church- divorced and conscience-free community in modern history. Williams felt that government is the natural way provided by God to cope with the corrupt nature of man. But since government could not be trusted to know which religion is true, he considered the best hope for true religion the protection of the freedom of all religion, along with nonreligion, from the state.”
Covey, Cyclone. The Gentle Radical: Roger Williams. New York: The MaCmillian Co., 1966, cover leaf.
Dear Mr. McLaren,
Please. Please. Please. Get over yourself.
Do you really think you’re asking any new questions in your post here? These are things Christians have been asking and living out since the time of the Apostles. The answer is “Go, and make disciples”.
How many martyrs have suffered and died taking the Gospel to the lost and hell-bound? How many new converts have suffered because they departed from their people’s religious lies to follow the true and living God?
Your pathetic attempt to compromise spits on their graves, mocks their sacrifices, and trambles their blood.
I am not usually a reader of “religious” blogs, but this one is nothing of the sort. It is a Believers blog, something I can understand, respect, admire and ultimately feel a kinship with. And with that I have to say, that I loved this post. To add critique or comment further that what was written and commented so far isn’t needed.
@audie – of course I followed the link to your blog, ’cause, well, there is a lot of biting pain in your comment. I wish you didn’t have it, but it’s there. I’m sorry that I can’t understand your hurt, because I just don’t know who you are. Your views tell me little of the hope you could bring, or the suffering you have helped. Of the few posts that I read, I’ve only seen evidence of those you reject.
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