Christianity vs. Christianism

For as long as I have been a Christian, I have resisted the impulse to say, "they're not Christians." The Church has always been diverse—doctrinally, morally, and ecclesially—so I take people at their word. This means I have to accept that Hitler was, in fact, a Christian and that Gandhi was not. If someone claims the name of Christ, I acknowledge them as my sibling in faith, even when our understandings of faithfulness differ drastically. I resist the temptation to lazily cast people out of their claimed religious persuasion merely by my own judgement. 

But I must admit that, lately, this commitment has become more difficult. The uproar surrounding Bishop Budde’s simple call for mercy—a virtue I had never thought to be controversial in Christian ethics—has illuminated the reality that there are, in America today, two very different Christianities. While I am still unwilling to say that "they're not Christians," the family resemblance is becoming harder to see.

One of these Christianities anxiously seeks power. It is troubled by concepts like equity, inclusion, diversity, and access—values that, for the other Christianity, are cherished virtues. One Christianity admires humility, kindness, and justice; the other prefers dominance, control, and influence. One Christianity is deeply concerned with ecological and social justice, while the other is apparently comfortable aligning itself with Christian Nationalism, where televangelists find themselves in government positions—such as the newly created "White House Faith Office" (which, shockingly, is not satire). This divide has been widening for some time, but I believe we are now at a moment of reckoning: these two Christianities must contend with each other, and we must distinguish Christianity from what John B. Cobb Jr. calls "Christianism."

Cobb defines Christianism in stark contrast to true discipleship to Jesus: “Supporting the political and even military strength of the institution replaced serving humanity as discipleship to Jesus” (Salvation, page 31). Christianism is a distortion of Christianity, one that prioritizes institutional power over the radical ethic of love and service exemplified in the Sermon on the Mount. It trades the fruits of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—for cultural and political dominance.

We need Christianity to be about Christ. Not about securing power, not about controlling laws, winning "culture wars," or enforcing an exclusionary moralism, but about living in accordance with the life and teachings of Jesus. The moral vision of the Sermon on the Mount and the apostolic vision of the fruits of the Spirit must be central to what it means to be Christian. Being a Christian must be about discipleship—following Jesus. If Christianity is to be a force for good in the world, it must not be hijacked by Christianism.

It is sad to see this divide grow, especially since I have former mentors who stand on the opposing side of the divide—people who encouraged me to study the Bible, only to later judge me for apparently taking that task a little too seriously. They told me to study the scriptures. I did. I discovered the Sermon on the Mount, the great commandment, God's liberating action, the justice of the prophets, the radical love and reckless hospitality of the triune God revealed in the writings of the Apostle Paul, James, and the general epistles. They were disappointed that I became so "liberal" by doing what they had told me to do, what they had apparently neglected to do themselves. It's hard not to feel a sense of betrayal in that. But here we are.

Perhaps the time has come to stop trying to pretend there is only one Christianity. The distinction between Christianity and Christianism has always been there, at least since Charlemagne. But now, more than ever, it must be named. And those of us who follow Christ—not merely as a cultural identifier but as the way, the truth, and the life—must reclaim the name of Christianity from those who would turn it into something other than full devotion to the way, the truth, and the life—Jesus.