“...and it was in Antioch that the disciples were first called Christians” (Acts. 11.26)

I

Ah, but what is a Christian?

When presented with such a question, it is important to know “why are you asking?” There have been times, more than a few, when efforts at defining Christianity were attempts to exclude somebody, to draw the line more tightly so that we were in and others were out. That, of course, is what definitions do — they describe what something is by indicating what it is not. Some of the early Christian creeds even went so far as to say “if anyone says (that such and such is true), let him be anathema” (that is, set apart, banished, excommunicated, even accursed).

Defining too tightly can have consequences. Emo Philips tells this story: In conversation with a person I had recently met, I asked, “Are you Protestant or Catholic?” My new acquaintance replied, “Protestant.” I said, “Me too! What franchise?” He answered, “Baptist.” “Me too!” I said. “Northern Baptist or Southern Baptist?” “Northern Baptist,” he replied. “Me too!” I shouted. We continued to go back and forth. Finally I asked, “Northern conservative fundamentalist Baptist, Great Lakes Region, Council of 1879 or Northern conservative fundamentalist Baptist, Great Lakes Region, Council of 1912?” He replied, “Northern conservative fundamentalist Baptist, Great Lakes Region, Council of 1912.” I said, “Die, heretic, die!”

But there is another reason to seek definition, and that is when we want to learn, to teach, and to affirm our faith. I remember leading a workshop on Unitarian Christianity at a district conference some years ago, and I began by asking “how many of you consider yourselves Christian?” There was a nervous silence, then one fellow said “It depends on how you define Christian.” No, I said, it does not depend on how I’m defining it, it depends on how you define it for yourself. Ours is free faith, where the individual is free to work out their own understandings, rather than trying to fit into somebody else’s mold, somebody’s box.

It is this second reason that moves me to ask “what is a Christian?” What should we learn and teach and affirm if we want to grow in faith? This morning I want to suggest three ways to answer the question. And I want you to ask what is essential to being Christian; what is it, without which, it would not be Christian?

II

What is a Christian? The first way: why, it’s a person who believes certain things, beliefs about Jesus Christ and God. But what things, what beliefs? What beliefs are so essential that, without believing them, one would not be Christian? This way of answering the question is the way of orthodoxy — which means literally “right beliefs.” What are the right beliefs?

I have a presentation I make to our 8th grade covenanting year classes about the variety of beliefs about the nature of Jesus Christ, from just a man, to a divine man, to God but not really a man, and everything in-between. The point is that there are more ways than one to believe about or to believe in Jesus. It is important to find your ways of belief about Jesus. I think it also important to not insist that everyone else agree with you, lest we become like Emo Phillips’ Baptists of the Great Lakes Region, Council of 1879 or 1912.

There is a difference between minimalist definitions and maximalist definitions. If we are growing our own faith, we want to say the most we can affirm. If we are deciding who we let into our camp, I’d urge the minimalist. For the latter, could we not say that the essential belief, that without which it would not be Christian, is that of this morning’s gospel: that we are astounded at his teaching, “for he taught as one having authority”? Jesus is authoritative for Christians. I am reminded that Karl Barth and the Confessing Christians of Nazi Germany were able to resist Adolf Hitler by proclaiming that Jesus is the one voice we need to hear and learn and obey.

That’s the way of orthodoxy, seeking right beliefs. But that doesn’t seem enough to me. It implies that one could be a Christian alone, sitting in your room, believing the right thoughts, all by yourself. There’s something not right about that picture.

The second way is the way of orthopraxy, right practices, right actions. You know, many religions don’t worry about beliefs, they are concerned with doing, actions. That may mean rituals, certain liturgies. For the Muslim it includes prayer toward Mecca and a pilgrimage. For the Jew it means keeping the Law, keeping the Sabbath, keeping Kosher. What would be the right actions for a Christian?

It could be rituals, liturgies, sacraments. Catholics say there are seven sacraments, Protestants say there are two (baptism and communion). It is prayer, reading the Bible, venerating icons, saying the rosary.

Right actions could also be living your life in a way that emulates the life and teachings of Jesus. You can believe all the right doctrine and do the right rituals, but if you hate your neighbor, you are not a Christian. “Deeds, not creeds” are the most important part of being Christian said the early Unitarians. This morning’s gospel was from the Sermon on the Mount: Jesus told us what to DO and sometimes what not to do; read it, Matthew chapters five, six and seven. Seeking justice for the oppressed, seeking peace, seeking righteousness, seeking to live with nature in a sustainable way — are these not the “right actions” we are called to do?

I’ve been saying that the three-fold purpose of church is to get closer to God, to transform our imperfect lives, and to make the world better. We begin to transform our imperfect lives by having a willingness to change what we do. I read a variation on Niebuhr’s serenity prayer recently. Many know the serenity prayer by heart:     God grant me
      the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
      the courage to change the things I can, and
      the wisdom to know the difference.

The variation is this:

    God grant me
      the serenity to accept the people I cannot change,
      the courage to change the people I can change, and
      the wisdom to know that they’re both me.

Orthopraxy — doing the right actions. As I thought about what is the essential right action for defining a Christian, that without which it would not be Christian, I think it is this: you put your body in a place where there are other bodies doing what Christians do. You can’t be Christian alone. You need to go to church.

III

So there you are, my friends. Orthodoxy and orthopraxy, two ways of defining “What is a Christian?” But wait, I said there were three ways. What is the third?

As I’ve thought about all the blood that has been spilled and the anxiety suffered from people trying to convince everyone else what is the proper and best way to be Christian, I confess that I tire of the animosity around right beliefs and right actions. It seems so UN-Christian, so UN-Christlike.

I propose a third way of answering the question “what is a Christian.” It is minimalist, so almost everyone can enter the camp, and it allows and encouraging going to the maximum.

A Christian is one who tells the Christian Story, the biblical story, and tells the Story with such familiarity and empathy that the tellers become part of the Story themselves. Again: a Christian is one who tells the Christian Story, and tells the Story with such familiarity and empathy that we tellers become part of the Story ourselves.

What story does your life tell?