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    A Generous Orthodoxy: By celebrating strengths of many traditions in the church (and beyond), this book will seek to communicate a “generous orthodoxy.”
    A Generous Orthodoxy: By celebrating strengths of many traditions in the church (and beyond), this book will seek to communicate a “generous orthodoxy.”
    A Generous Orthodoxy: By celebrating strengths of many traditions in the church (and beyond), this book will seek to communicate a “generous orthodoxy.”
    Ebook370 pages6 hours

    A Generous Orthodoxy: By celebrating strengths of many traditions in the church (and beyond), this book will seek to communicate a “generous orthodoxy.”

    By Brian D. McLaren

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    A confession and manifesto from a senior leader in the emerging church movement. A Generous Orthodoxy calls for a radical, Christ-centered orthodoxy of faith and practice in a missional, generous spirit. Brian McLaren argues for a post-liberal, post-conservative, post-protestant convergence, which will stimulate lively interest and global conversation among thoughtful Christians from all traditions.In a sweeping exploration of belief, author Brian McLaren takes us across the landscape of faith, envisioning an orthodoxy that aims for Jesus, is driven by love, and is defined by missional intent. A Generous Orthodoxy rediscovers the mysterious and compelling ways that Jesus can be embraced across the entire Christian horizon. Rather than establishing what is and is not “orthodox,” McLaren walks through the many traditions of faith, bringing to the center a way of life that draws us closer to Christ and to each other. Whether you find yourself inside, outside, or somewhere on the fringe of Christianity, A Generous Orthodoxy draws you toward a way of living that looks beyond the “us/them” paradigm to the blessed and ancient paradox of “we.”
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherZondervan
    Release dateMay 18, 2009
    ISBN9780310565796
    A Generous Orthodoxy: By celebrating strengths of many traditions in the church (and beyond), this book will seek to communicate a “generous orthodoxy.”
    Author

    Brian D. McLaren

    Brian D. McLaren (MA, University of Maryland) is an author, speaker, activist and public theologian. After teaching college English, Brian pastored Cedar Ridge Community Church in the Baltimore-Washington, DC area. Brain has been active in networking and mentoring church planters and pastors for over 20 years. He is a popular conference speaker and a frequent guest lecturer for denominational and ecumenical leadership gatherings in the US and internationally.

    Read more from Brian D. Mc Laren

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    Reviews for A Generous Orthodoxy

    3.5/5

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    • 4/5
      I knew going into this that McLaren has been pegged with a lot of red flags. The bad publicity alone piqued my curiosity and therefore I wanted to see for myself what the issues were. From my perspective there wasn't any glaring unorthodox views that has caused me to toss the book aside or label McLaren a heretic as so many have done. I have agreed in most part with McLaren's views about salvation. I also like how McLaren draws on the strengths and weaknesses of all the different traditions of the Christian faith and encourages us to come together on our strengths rather than part ways on our weaknesses. I was struck by his assessment regarding the hermeneutics of Scripture. We have an inerrant and infallible Scripture, but we have errant and fallible men who interpret them. Therefore, nobody can lay claim on the proper interpretation of Scripture. I also liked how McLaren expanded upon Calvin's acronym of TULIP. He didn't replace it or redefine it, but interpreted it in such a way that becomes more generous rather than exclusive. A few things I disagreed with McLaren on was some of his church history. It seemed his history of the Anabaptists and Reformed traditions were a bit off on some points. I was taken a bit back about his incessant apologies for the masculine use of God throughout the book. Why the apology when Scripture alone utilizes the masculine pronouns? Furthermore, McLaren devoted an entire chapter to being "green" which I take issue with. Sure, let's be good stewards of the earth, but let's not allow our stewardship of earth and nature take precedence over our care for people. Chopping down a few trees so people without homes can now have a place to live doesn't make me any less generous or compassionate than someone who nurtures our earth's resources. McLaren lost me when I got to the "Why I Am Emergent" chapter. A lot of new jargon I did not understand, but some of which I did. Even though he was trying not to sound pluralistic, he really is. Personally, I find nothing wrong with being pluralistic in our theological beliefs. It is my hope that most Christians are pluralistic, primarily in their distinctives and secondary issues. Although I thoroughly enjoyed the book, I was somewhat disappointed with the fact that McLaren spent most of the time describing what a generous orthodoxy is not, but little time on what it is. It seems only the last and final chapter was dedicated to defining this generous orthodoxy. And perhaps the best definition I found is this:"To be a Christian in a generously orthodox way is not to claim to have truth captured, stuffed, and mounted on the wall. It is rather to be in a loving community of people who are seeking the truth on the road of mission and who have been launched on the quest by Jesus, who, with us, guides us still." (page 333).
    • 5/5
      One of the forwards suggests that this book could be the equivalent of Luther's 95-point theses for the emerging church. I'm not qualified to comment on that, but its a provocative starting point for a provocative book. For those of us who feel that the organized church has polarized into two unbalanced entities, picking and choosing limited parts of the good news of Jesus Christ, this book offers a middle path. You are never sure the extent to which McLaren emphasizes to make a point, but I urge readers to have an open mind.
    • 5/5
      We need this voice in this messy body we call the body of Christ(catholic church). In this book, he speaks of the different denominations/ideologies involved within Christianity and speaks to how each one is very important and has it's place within faith. The uniqueness of these different groups is beautiful in that it allows us to see the many facets that encompass faith. Surely embracing each other's differences and appreciating them is the start to a reconciliation that is so necessary for us to truly be effective and live up to what Jesus had in mind.
    • 5/5
      This book summarizes and expounds on every major movement in the Christian faith, up to and including the Emergent movement, and goes into what we can learn from them, both good and bad. Recommended for anyone wanting to learn more about the breadth and diversity of Christian spirituality.
    • 1/5
      A book that has the potential to do untold damage to orthodox Christianity.
    • 2/5
      A basic introduction to the Emergent church. Interesting ideas, thought-provoking. However, like the Emergent Church movement, it lacks clear theology, depending rather on warm fuzzies of can't we all just get along?
    • 5/5
      McLaren examines orthodox Christianity and shatters the myths of it being exclusive and judging. He repositions the good news of Jesus of Nazareth in such a way that the Kingdom of God appears as a welcoming place, not as one that has its doors locked tight.
    • 5/5
      A very helpful example of employing both continuity and change as we allow the Spirit to lead us somewhere genuinely new, while still relying heavily upon the faithfulness of our traditions.
    • 4/5
      Seeking to move beyond denominational distinctives, McLaren asks what is valuable in particular Christian traditions. Chapter 1, “The Seven Jesuses I have known,” highlights this approach by speaking to the different emphases of traditions McLaren has experienced. The following chapters offer a smorgasbord of Christian values, as seen in unique, sometimes seemingly contradictory, traditions. McLaren’s work values paradox and charity, but at times could be charged with cafeteria-style faith, which choices what it likes, sometimes overlooking the associated negatives. Good discussion starter A-
    • 4/5
      You may not agree with him but it's worth reading. Good writer. We can all follow his example in how he conducts himself and the tone he models for dialogue.
    • 5/5
      I resisted reading this for a while as it looked rather 'heavy'...but having read McLaren's pseudo-fiction trilogy, I was interested enough to try it. Well worth reading, in my view. It starts with an overview of the author's journey in faith, from flannelgraph pictures at Sunday School through teenage doubts, the 'Jesus movement', through different views of Jesus, beginning with the Conservative Evangelical one, and moving outward, to embrace more and more viewpoints, before considering the idea of a 'generous' orthodoxy, open to all, encompassing much.

      After outlining his impressions and experiences with different flavours of Christianity, McLaren then outlines why he considers himself to be missional, Biblical, Contemplative, and so on, including his understanding of more controversial terms such as Calvinist, Charismatic, and even Liberal/Conservative. It's all good stuff, based on solid Biblical foundations, infused with the wisdom of tradition and a great deal of rational thinking. Wisely, he does not touch on current 'issues' over which the church is sadly divided, but emphasises instead the message of Jesus, and the importance of demonstrating God's love to the world, seeing the Kingdom of Heaven as now, rather than simply trying to focus on eternity as so many seem to.

      There's a lot of wisdom in this book, and a great deal to think about. Definitely recommended, particularly for those who have already written off McLaren due to his sometimes controversial actions (albeit based on love).
    • 5/5
      This is a very helpful book, he seems to be reacting to many of the difficulties we feel with Christian belief at the beginning of the 21st century. He starts by describing how he has benefited from various different brands of Christianity he has been involved with, but more usefully he then reports on the way the contrasting views show up each others deficiencies. One underlying and contentious idea is that the faith is not static but does change as history goes on. The priorities of TULIP give way to the five principles of the fundamentalists. The "unchanging gospel" is not as stable as we thought.He warns us about the dangers and misunderstandings that can results from the way we use some words, judge, father, king, about God.He reckons our main enemy is the reductionist ideology of modernism, no doubt that's why he is so accepting of post-modernism! By the end of the book he has almost abandoned cross cultural evangelism, or at least he would repudiate any pushy, forceful version of the gospel.I think his version of the gospel appears a bit feeble - Gods love to us and to all of creation- but there is an awful lot to be learned for the modern church in this book.
    • 2/5
      I might have given this a better review the first time I read it. I love McLaren's desire to question the status quo. But, like many questioners, he erodes many foundations with his inquiries and replaces them with absolutely nothing. This isn't entirely a criticism; deconstruction is the first step for any important movement. But in hindsight it seems like the Emergent movement was all about deconstruction and didn't really provide an alternative. That said, I found myself often highlighting and writing the word, "YES" boldly in the margins. I appreciate McLaren but a good chef doesn't just bad mouth the food of others, he provides an alternative dish.
    • 4/5
      "McLaren is a self-described follower of Jesus Christ. In his book he journeys through many of today’s Christian churches. He is both frustrated and hopeful in what he sees. He is both free with praise and criticism. However, foundational to it all is his commitment to the unity he sees that we should and must exhibit as true followers of Christ. He might make you angry but my guess is he will always extend his hand in fellowship and genuine love. If your frustrated with many of your experiences in church but needing encouragement in your spiritual life this is a good book to read.Make no mistake; McLaren is one who states his belief in Jesus Christ as Savior. However, he quickly moves to that of Lordship and what he believes that should look like. Much of what he argues for is for Christians to acknowledge the distinctive and wonderful gifts that each tradition brings to the table. This is very important and sadly lacking in Christians today as we present ourselves to an unbelieving world.McLaren is very much left of center in his politics. He claims not to be all that nice of a person. However, he believes that Christ is in the business of changing him and also requiring that he become nicer. He is a genuine proponent of a mature, vigorous and at times somewhat naive unity in Christ; a unity that is much deeper than doctrinal agreement, a unity that lifts up Jesus Christ while showing deference and the need to keep as a goal our requirement for a personal position of humility.McLaren is not an Erasmus, Chesterton, or Lewis, but he does get it right on how we on a personal level should genuinely treat one another. If you don’t get that right as a Christian you just don’t get it."
    • 3/5
      The title being based from G. K. Chesterton's classic Orthodoxy, McLaren in this work writes in a series of short chapters what he finds appealing in each Christian tradition. I think it gets to be a bit fluffy and that McLaren knows very little about many of these traditions and may actually stand in some opposition to them if he were more knowledgeable, but I really enjoyed the thesis and attempt.
    • 4/5
      In this classic of the Emergent Church pantheon, Brian McLaren presents his famous analysis of the Seven figures of Jesus which he has known: Conservative/Protestant, Pentecostal/Charismatic, Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Liberal Protestant, Anabaptist, and Jesus of the Oppressed.With two Forewords, one by Phyllis Tickle, and one by John Franke. No Index.
    • 1/5
      McLaren really made his course clear here: headed down the lane of pluralism and an abandonment of Biblical authority. So why two stars? Because his opening picture of the different Jesuses he sees in the different streams of Christianity was very good.

    Book preview

    A Generous Orthodoxy - Brian D. McLaren

    FOREWORD BY PHYLLIS TICKLE

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    In the year of Our Lord, 1517, on what would become Halloween Day, but wasn’t then, a young Roman Catholic monk, who could imagine himself as nothing other than a Christian monk serving under Roman rites, nailed upon the front door of the parish church in Wittenberg a list of 95 points he thought were in need of serious, ecclesial discussion. Or that’s how the story goes. Seems there’s some possibility the details have been embroidered a bit. Such is the way of storytellers and their tales. But the general thrust of the thing is right and did happen pretty much as told.

    What happened next is not quite so easily romanticized or, for that matter, so easily clarified.

    In the Western world, human understanding pivoted, doing something close to a 90-degree turn upon itself—in each and every part of itself. Or, more accurately, human understanding in the West had already pivoted 90 degrees, and the hammer blows at Wittenberg merely gave religious focus to a ubiquitous and roiling confusion. It was not the theses themselves, we would say later, that made the difference. (In fact, most of us today have little idea what the 95 actually said.) What mattered was that, in aggregate, they revealed the conventions and structures of established religion as more human than divine in both its origin and consequence. Without meaning to, Luther had exposed the church of his time as stagnate, moribund, and—more to the point—too small to contain either God or a new world order. What he had sought, we now know, was not insurrection (though he got it); it was his faith’s beating heart, the God center, around and over which the centuries had superimposed church as protector and interpreter.

    Had his time been as the centuries that preceded him, the church of Luther’s vows and vocation probably would have contained and sustained him. In other words, Luther was not the rebel (though some may debate that point with me later); rather the times in which he lived required of him the disposition and deportment of one. Within the dozen or so decades that preceded Luther’s time and gave it content, the world had moved from flat to round, thereby disestablishing in the popular mind the traditional positioning of Heaven and all its ranks and armies. As discoveries go, that one was not unlike our own discoveries of the space-time continuum and the principles of evolution for their sheer ability to disorient.

    Those decades that made Luther’s world were also the first in Western history in which plain folk had relatively cheap and easy access to ideas and, most important, to the Scriptures upon which they presumably based their private lives and general culture. As a blow to the hegemony of enfranchised institutions, the impact of the printing press can best be understood today as analogous to the impact of the Internet on popular thought, commerce, and the shaping of positions and decision-making. And the gifts of the Renaissance to the intellectual grasp of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were a bit like the Pandora-like gifts of the Internet age to our understanding of archeology, physics, deconstruction and text criticism, psychology, cognitive science, comparative mythology, and so on.

    In the years before Luther, the governance of human affairs had moved from manor and fiefdom and duchy to nation-state, pretty much as our own governance has of late moved from nation-state to the concerns and values of permeable borders, renegade states, an exhaustible earth, and globalization, all effectively as near to us as the local mall. For Luther’s times, the basis of power had shifted from bloodline and land to capital and hard wealth in much the same way that power in our times has subtly shifted to the possession of information and technology. Where once the tribe of village or fiefdom had been the unit of social organization, the family became the basic block of society in much the same way that the so-called nuclear family in our time is giving way to other domestic and affinity arrangements for both legal and social purposes.

    It goes on, this list of disorienting, destabilizing, disequilibrium-producing shifts that tore up Luther’s world before he arrived in it—and is doing much the same in our times. And it is the parallels, of course, that matter to us here.

    Religion is like a spyglass through which we look to determine our course, our place in the order of things, and to sight that toward where we are going. On a clear day, no sailor needs such help, save for passing views of a far shore. But on a stormy sea, with all landmarks hidden in obscuring clouds, the spyglass becomes the instrument of hope, the one thing on board that, held to the eye long enough, will find the break in the clouds and discover once more the currents and shores of safe passage. Ours are stormy seas just now; and I believe as surely as Martin Luther held the spyglass for sixteenth-century Europe, so Brian McLaren holds it here for us in the twenty-first.

    When all is said and done, McLaren may not be so dominant in the story of our century as Luther was in his. No one can know that just now. And I am reasonably sure that McLaren no more wishes such a role than Luther would have, had he had the long lens of history through which to peer.

    But I am sure of two things: The emerging church has the potential of being to North American Christianity what Reformation Protestantism was to European Christianity. And I am sure that the generous orthodoxy defined in the following pages is our 95 theses. Both are strong statements, strongly stated and, believe me, not lightly taken in so public a forum as this. All I can add to them in defense is the far simpler statement: here I stand.

    So, on that basis, the one thing that remains is to invite you to join thousands and thousands of others who have already read these words and subsequently assumed them as the theses of a new kind of Christianity and the foundational principles for a new Beloved Community.

    Phyllis Tickle

    The Farm In Lucy

    In the fourteenth week of Trinity, 2005

    FOREWORD BY JOHN R. FRANKE

    line

    The world is changed. I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was, is lost, for none now live who remember it. So speaks Galadriel of Middle Earth at the opening of the cinematic version of J. R. R. Tolkien’s mythic tale The Lord of the Rings. Like the inhabitants of Middle Earth, followers of Jesus Christ from across the diverse ecclesiastical and theological spectrum of North American Christianity have a growing sense that the world they have known is changing. Strange things are happening in unexpected places, long-familiar assumptions are being called into question, and new conversations are taking place between longtime adversaries, sometimes resulting in surprising alliances. Residents of the liberal and conservative precincts of the church are engaging in respectful and constructive dialogue across the metaphorical divide that has separated them for nearly two centuries; Protestants are growing in their appreciation for ancient Christian tradition; Lutherans and Catholics have issued a joint declaration on justification; evangelicals and Catholics are working together and expressing mutual appreciation for each other. The maps of North American Christianity that not so long ago provided reliable orientation and guidance are being redrawn.

    Many of these developments can be traced to the failure of modernity’s categories and paradigms to recognize the social and cultural diversity of the human experience. This failure has prompted the emergence of postmodern theory with its critique of certain, objective, universal knowledge and its quest to construct new forms of thought in the aftermath of modernity. These new forms of thought have significantly reshaped our common cultural and intellectual life in a variety of ways, including the standard assumptions that have guided Western culture and expressions of Christian faith since the Enlightenment. Of course, not everyone believes these developments are positive, and this has triggered considerable discussion and controversy in many ecclesiastical and theological circles. In the context of this debate, it is important to remember that postmodern theory does not support the rejection of rationality but rather supports rethinking rationality in the wake of modernity. This rethinking has resulted not in irrationality, as is often claimed by less informed critics of postmodern thought, but rather in numerous redescriptions and proposals concerning the understanding of rationality and knowledge. These postmodern ideas produced a more inherently self-critical view of knowledge than modernity.

    In this setting, Yale theologian Hans Frei sought to move beyond the liberal/conservative impasse of modernity and coined the term generous orthodoxy to describe an understanding of Christianity that contained elements of both liberal and conservative thought. However, he also envisioned an approach to Christian faith that moved beyond the views of knowledge and certainty that liberals and conservatives held in common. This entailed the rejection of philosophical foundationalism characteristic in both liberal and conservative theology. Foundationalism refers to a conception of knowledge that emerged during the Enlightenment and sought to address the lack of certainty generated by the human tendency toward error and to overcome the inevitable, often destructive disagreements and controversies that followed. This quest for certainty involved reconstructing knowledge by rejecting premodern notions of authority and replacing them with uncontestable beliefs accessible to all individuals. The assumptions of foundationalism, with its goal of establishing certain and universal knowledge, came to dominate intellectual pursuit in the modern era.

    This conception of knowledge also significantly influenced the church as Christian leaders and thinkers reshaped their understandings of the faith in accordance with its dictates. In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the foundationalist impulse produced a theological division between the left and the right among Anglo-Americans—liberals constructed theology upon the foundation of an unassailable religious experience while conservatives looked to an error-free Bible as the incontrovertible foundation of their theology. But in spite of all their differences, we can see that while liberal and conservative Christians appeared to be going their separate ways throughout the twentieth century, both were responding in different ways to the same modern, foundationalist agenda.

    In response to this situation, post-liberals and post-conservatives have sought to move in the direction suggested by generous orthodoxy through a nonfoundationalist conception of the Christian faith. They can be identified by some common characteristics and commitments, such as strong ecumenical interests, a desire to move beyond the liberal/conservative divide, and a willingness to think through old questions in new ways that foster the pursuit of truth, the unity of the church, and the gracious character of the gospel. These common commitments have provided a fruitful context for conversation between postliberal and postconservative thinkers who together are seeking an understanding of Christian faith that is both orthodox and generous.

    While this conversation continues to proceed and develop in the academy, its real significance lies in its implications for the church. If generous orthodoxy is to make a difference in the church and the world, it must move beyond lecture halls, textbooks, and conference agendas and come to be embodied in the lives and fabric of Christian communities as a genuine alternative to the fragmented and fractured witness of the contemporary church in our post-Christian society. Many resources will be required in order for the vision of generous orthodoxy to become a reality, and indeed many have already started to become available. I believe this book to be such a resource, and a potentially significant one at that. Brian D. McLaren offers a provocative, stimulating, and challenging account of a committed Christian orthodoxy that is truly inviting. In so doing he has provided a model for those who are seeking to develop, nurture, and practice a postmodern, ecumenical, and missional Christian faith.

    Several virtues of the book are particularly significant in the quest for generous orthodoxy. First, it maintains a focus on Jesus Christ as the center of the Christian faith. In Brian’s survey of the different ways Jesus has been perceived in the various traditions of the church, he implicitly identifies both the diversity that characterizes the Christian tradition and its unity through the living presence of Christ. And while the presence of Christ has been manifested and experienced by the power of the Spirit in richly diverse ways throughout the history of the church, he identifies the centrality of Christ as the single unifying force in a multifaceted tradition.

    Second, the centrality of Christ is combined with openness appropriate for generous orthodoxy. For instance, the biblical witness to Jesus Christ as the unique Savior and hope of the world does not demand a restrictive posture concerning salvation for those who have never heard the gospel or those in other religious traditions. Brian addresses the questions in this area that many Christians wrestle with and suggests that these need not be finally closed, but may remain open to hopeful engagement without undermining or compromising the importance of Christian witness and responsibility. His discussion follows in the spirit of the influential missionary theologian Lesslie Newbigin who articulated his own position concerning Christ and salvation along the following lines: Exclusive in the sense of affirming the unique truth of the revelation in Jesus Christ, but not in the sense of denying the possibility of salvation to those outside the Christian faith; inclusive in the sense of refusing to limit the saving grace of God to Christians, but not in the sense of viewing other religions as salvific; pluralist in the sense of acknowledging the gracious work of God in the lives of all human beings, but not in the sense of denying the unique and decisive nature of what God has done in Jesus Christ (Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society, Eerdmans, 1989, 182-3).

    Third, the tone of the book is honest, authentic, and self-critical. Brian does not present himself as one with all the answers, but rather as a pilgrim thinker seeking after truth in the midst of missional Christian work. The questions and challenges he addresses emerge not from the confines of a secluded study, but from the perspective of a thoughtful and reflective working pastor grappling with the issues and problems that people are struggling with, both inside the church and out. He is honest about his doubts and struggles, self-critical with respect to his own tradition, and willing to listen and to learn from others without sacrificing his own convictions. In this way Brian models the contextual and interpretive character of theology that informs generous orthodoxy.

    Finally, because generous orthodoxy is aware of the need to keep listening and learning in openness to the Spirit and to the world for the sake of the gospel, it seeks to keep conversations going and not to end them. Generous orthodoxy does not so much specify a particular point or position as it establishes a spacious territory defined by certain distinct boundaries in which there is space to live, move, and breathe while exploring the wonders and mysteries of the faith. In this context ongoing conversation is nothing less than the gracious gift of God through the work of the Spirit in fulfillment of the promise to guide the church into the fullness of truth. In this book Brian models the art of conversation admirably. He does not covet the last word, he is honest about his presuppositions and potential blind spots, he is forthright in his convictions, and he is willing to engage with the many voices found in the church and in our culture. The last thing he wants to do is end conversation—his desire is to keep it going for the sake of the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Some readers will undoubtedly be disturbed at points and wish that this were otherwise, especially in some of the more controversial parts of the book. It is worth remembering that Brian makes clear at the outset his intention to be provocative, mischievous, and unclear for the purpose of encouraging readers to think and enter into the conversation themselves.

    In conclusion, readers are encouraged to keep in mind the words of Hans Frei, who once commented on the term he had coined: Generosity without orthodoxy is nothing, but orthodoxy without generosity is worse than nothing.

    intro_1

    INTRODUCTION

    You may not be a Christian and wondering why anyone would want to be. The religion that inspired the Crusades, launched witch trials, perpetuates religious broadcasting, presents too-often boring and irrelevant church services with schmaltzy music—or else presents manic and overly aggressive church services with a different kind of schmaltzy music—baptizes wars and other questionable political programs, promotes judgmentalism, and ordains preachers with puffy haircuts (and others who are so superficial as to complain about puffy haircuts or whose baldness makes the complaint seem suspiciously tinged with envy)…it doesn’t make sense to you why anyone would want in on that.¹

    You may not yet be a Christian, and you’re thinking of becoming one, but you’re worried that if you do you’ll become a worse person–judgmental, arrogant, narrow-minded, bigoted, and brainwashed. You feel attracted to something good on the path of Jesus, but you wish you could get that something good without a lot of extra religious, social, and maybe political baggage. (Do I have to like organ music? Do I have to say Praise the Lord! all the time? Do I have to vote Republican? Do I have to oppose civil rights for homosexuals?) You wonder if there’s any way to follow Jesus without becoming a Christian.²

    You may already be a Christian, struggling, questioning, and looking for reasons to stay in. Or you may have officially left the Christian community, but part of your heart is still there, and you wonder if you might someday return. So many of us have come close to withdrawing from the Christian community. It’s not because of Jesus or his good news, but because of frustrations with religious politics, dubious theological propositions, difficulties in interpreting passages of the Bible that feel barbaric (especially to people sensitized by Jesus to the importance of compassion), and/or embarrassments from recent and not-so-recent church history.³ Or perhaps it’s simply boredom—dreary music, blasé sermons, sappy answers to tough questions, and other adventures in missing the point. Or perhaps it’s fatigue—a treadmill of meetings and books and programs and squabbles that yield more duties, obligations, guilt trips, and stress.

    You may be a Christian leader who has heard terms like postmodern and missional.⁴ You keep hearing about post-evangelicals, post-liberals, and postmoderns, about missional churches and missional faith communities. You may hope to get some constructive insight about this post-familiar vantage point here. You may have read some other books (by me or my friends) using this strange language, and they made you want to hear more from whatever this strange post-perspective is. One of the great honors of my life is to serve my colleagues in Christian leadership by sharing whatever insights I have gained in our common journey and mission, trying to find words for insights that thousands of us seem to reach nearly simultaneously. I’m not all that original; I just seem to be able to get the tune out of my head and onto my lips a little before others do. When I hum it, others often say, That tune was in my mind already, but I just couldn’t quite access it.

    You may be looking for dirt so you can write a hostile review. Chances are you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for, whether it’s here or not. You’ll quickly discern that I’m no G. K. Chesterton, who wrote the original book on orthodoxy.⁵ Though I’m just shy of two-thirds his weight (he was a 300-pounder), I’m not half the writer or a quarter the Christian he was. I can only hope to offer the faintest, quietest, perhaps most pathetic echo of his brilliance in these pages. His orthodoxy was truly generous, as this quote regarding his critics makes clear: I offer this book with the heartiest sentiments to all the jolly people who hate what I write, and regard it (very justly, for all I know), as a piece of poor clowning or a single tiresome joke (Orthodoxy, 6).

    You may be new to the Christian way, and you’re trying to learn the lay of the land. I’m especially glad to have you on the journey, and I’ll try to keep you in mind on every page. In a way I wish every reader could pretend to be you, exploring the Christian story and family for the first time. It would be my honor to introduce you to what I’ve found. I would also be glad to help you avoid the mistaken beliefs, the attractive shortcuts that turn out to be dead ends, and the other needless sidetracks that I wish I would have avoided along the way. I often think my most valuable credential is my vast repertoire of stupid mistakes through the years, mistakes that can’t help but teach their perpetrator something the hard way. A warning—there will be some terminology here that’s unfamiliar to you, no doubt. I’ll do my best to define terms in the text or in footnotes, but if a term comes along that you don’t know, just let it slide. My grandmother had good advice for reading the Bible that would apply here, too: Reading the Bible is like eating fish. Enjoy the meat that’s easy to eat first; come back and work on the bones later if you’re still hungry.

    Whatever your reasons for beginning this book, I hope by its end you’ll find even more than you’re looking for now. The approach you’ll find here, which might be called postcritical, seeks to find a way to embrace the good in many traditions and historic streams of Christian faith, and to integrate them, yielding a new, generous, emergent approach that is greater than the sum of its parts.⁶ This approach is both ancient/historical and avant-garde/innovative. My friend Leonard Sweet uses the image of a swing to capture this simultaneous kicking-back/leaning-forward, kicking-forward/leaning-back. He also uses the image of a pole vaulter, who, in order to move forward and fly upward, begins by going backward to get a running start. He calls this an ancient-future approach, as does Robert Webber, another wise Christian thinker looking for ways ahead for the Christian faith by reaching back at the same time.⁷

    The Christian family through the centuries and across cultures provides rich resources for your journey through life. There are heroes and saints whose lives inspire. As well, many rich resources come via the embarrassments and tragedies we Christians have experienced and perpetrated through the years. You can learn a lot from others’ mistakes if you don’t distance yourself from them too quickly. Whether through heroes or catastrophes, you’ll find much of what you need.

    And you’ll find that you are needed, too. Because the story isn’t over, and the family isn’t complete. I hope that in these pages you’ll get a feeling for the important contributions we need you to make.

    The subtitle of this book creates a term so awkward and confusing that it’s certain not to catch on. Which is a good thing, because what we need is not new sectarian terminology or new jargon or a new elitist clique, but rather a humble rediscovery of the simple, mysterious way of Jesus that can be embraced across the whole Christian horizon (and beyond). What we need is something lived, not just talked or written about. The last thing we need is a new group of proud, super protestant, hyper puritan, ultra restorationist reformers who say, Only we’ve got it right! and thereby damn everybody else to the bin of five minutes ago and the bucket of below-average mediocrity.

    The word orthodoxy means straight thinking or right opinion. The last thing I want is to get into nauseating arguments about why this or that form of theology (dispensational, covenant, charismatic, whatever) or methodology (cell church, megachurch, liturgical church, seeker church, blah, blah, blah) is right (meaning approaching or achieving timeless technical perfection). Hence the important adjective generous in the title of this book.

    If I seem to show too little respect for your opinions or thought, be assured I have equal doubts about my own, and I don’t mind if you think I’m wrong. I’m sure I am wrong about many things, although I’m not sure exactly which things I’m wrong about. I’m even sure I’m wrong about what I think I’m right about in at least some cases. So wherever you think I’m wrong, you could be right. If, in the process of determining that I’m wrong, you are stimulated to think more deeply and broadly, I hope that I will have somehow served you anyway. (See Chapter 0 for additional disclaimers.)

    I write as a lifelong participant in the Christian religion. As a little boy I was sometimes unfathomably bored and uncomfortable in church. Bored because I didn’t understand what the grown-ups were saying; and uncomfortable because I had to wear a white shirt, clip-on tie, jacket, slippery socks, and stiff, tight shoes with slippery soles. (Most churches don’t torture children that way anymore.) As a teenager I was indignant about the hypocrisy I saw in others, though sadly, not yet in myself. Perhaps I just hadn’t lived long enough to develop my own personal style of hypocrisy. I have lived long enough now. Then I had a series of experiences with Jesus Christ that ruined my life—ruined it for good—in a good way, I mean.⁸

    To my surprise I felt this love growing in me for the church, for the little suburban church I attended, and for the church as a whole in all its forms and denominations. I actually ended up planting two churches over the years (one that still survives, one that had a short but glorious lifespan before its tragic and ugly demise), and I’ve helped several other churches get started, too. I never planned on being a pastor, but it turned out that I became one (after several years in my planned profession—teaching college English).

    Years later I started writing books that some pastors and other Christian leaders found helpful (and others didn’t), which then put me in front of thousands of them, many of whom needed some encouragement and appreciation. I’ve had countless discussions with sincere Christians from nearly every major North American denomination, and I’ve learned much from nearly every one. So I’m deep into this thing we call Christianity. I

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