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a private and public faith

I was first introduced to William Stringfellow in college.  Alongside Barth, Bonhoeffer, and George MacDonald, Stringfellow has been one of the most influential theologians upon my own thinking.  I want to take a few days and explore some of his most important works.  And I want to begin with his first book, A Private and Public Faith, from 1962.

The quote from the dust jacket:
The author hits hard at the manipulation of religion for personal, corporate and national self-interests; and sets forth the possibility and content of a relevant and honest witness to Christ in both private and public affairs. 
The back cover of the dust jacket has a quote from Karl Barth describing Stringfellow as "the conscientious and thoughtful New York attorney who caught my attention more than any other person".  As most fans of Stringfellow know, during Barth's visit to America, Stringfellow and he interacted (with others) in a public discussion.  Barth was so impressed with Stringfellow's questions and comments he looked at the American audience and said, "Listen to this man!"

In the Preface of A Private and Public Faith Stringfellow describes the goal of the book:
As I find it, religion in America is characteristically atheistic or agnostic.  Religion has virtually nothing to do with God and has little to do with the practical lives of men and women in society.  Religion seems, mainly, to have to do with religion.  The churches -- particularly of Protestantism -- in the United States are, to a great extent, preoccupied with religion rather than with the gospel.
That, in brief, is the substance of the essays in this tract.  In the first edition the book runs 91 pages (most of Stringfellow's books are short) and is divided into fours chapters:  "The Folly of Religion", "The Specter of Protestantism", "The Simplicity of the Christian Life", and "The Fear of God".  In typical Stringfellow style at the start of each chapter a quote from the Bible is given.  In A Private and Public Faith Stringfellow works from Colossians, quoting a verse at the start of each chapter.  For the four chapters we have Colossians 2.8, 2.20, 3.17, and 1.28.

On, then, to Chapter 1, "The Folly of Religion".

Stringfellow begins the book with a distinction between religion and the gospel.  Religion, according to Stringfellow, is mainly preoccupied with itself.  But the gospel, by contrast, is preoccupied with life, every facet of life:
Christ bespeaks the care of God for everything to do with actual life, with life as it is lived by anybody and everybody day in and day out.  Christ bespeaks my life:  in all its detail and mistake and humor and fatigue and surprise and contradiction and freedom and ambiguity and quiet and wonder and sin and peace and vanity and variety and lust and triumph and defeat and rest and love and all the rest it is from time to time; and, cheer up, with your life, just as much, in as full intimacy, touching your whole biography, abiding every secret, with you, whoever, wherever your are, any time, any place.  And if this is so, if Christ is involved in every aspect of life, then the gospel is going to escape the quarantine of the sanctuary and impact how we think about political arrangements and economics.
 This is controversial because, as Stringfellow notes:  "Religion, it is insisted, is for the sanctuary, not the marketplace".  But according to Stringfellow, such a belief is atheistic.  True Christian belief is very much engaged with marketplaces and, thus, functions as a form of protest inviting antagonism and controversy:
So long as religion is quiet about society it upholds whatever is the prevailing status quo in society.  But if one benefits, or is persuaded that he benefits, from the preservation of the status quo, then so long as religion remains aloof from society, it is not controversial.  It is only when religion disrupts or threatens one's self-interest that it is condemned as controversial.

... The Christian is committed permanently to radical protest in society.  The Christian is always dissatisfied with the existing state of affairs. 
The problem, according to Stringfellow, is that the Christian church is not committed to this sort of radical protest.  Rather, Christian churches are focused on two things: (1) Their own institutional well-being and (2) the moral piety of their members.

Regarding this latter -- the focus on individual piety -- Stringfellow makes an interesting critique.  He argues that you can't be moral all by yourself.  An individual is unable to discern, on their own, what is right from wrong.  My morality can't be separated from the common lot of humanity:
... [R]eligion, too, grossly oversimplifies the reality of moral conflict in the world, including moral conflict within the private lives of individuals. Religion of this sort fails to apprehend the intense ambiguity of moral decision.  This variety of religion contends that it is possible for an individual, in the sphere of his own immediate affairs, to discern what is right and wrong, and to implement a decision so informed with more or less discipline.  But the truth is that the extent of any individual's insight into what is good or bad reaches only to that which is advantageous to ourselves.  A person may, indeed, be able to figure out what is good, or bad, for him or his family.  But that which is good for him, is bad for someone else, and, in principle, for everyone else in the world.  The intensity and complexity of the moral conflict is the assertion and pursuit of each individual's own self-interest as over against that of every other person.
... It is the essence of human sin for us to boast of the power to discern what is good and what is evil, and thus be like God.
In short, religion can't be focused on piety as piety is self-interest dressed up in religion garb.  Good and evil can only be discerned by looking at the whole of society.

Thus, the Christian moral witness is inherently political and economic, rather than pietistic, in nature.

In Chapter 2 -- "The Specter of Protestantism" -- Stringfellow examines the relationship between the priesthood and the laity.  For Stringfellow the central work of the church is the witness of the laity in the world.  The priesthood exists to prepare, send, and support the laity in this task.

Stringfellow was missional.  He writes:
No person -- for that matter, no creature, no idea, no institution, no nation, no issue, no action -- is beyond the reach and intercession of some member of the Body of Christ.  It is in this way, indeed, that is, by the width and depth of the implication of Christians in the life of the world, that the unequivocal fact of grace is communicated, that the universality of Christ is represented, and that the ubiquity of the Word of God in the world is exposed.
For lay folk in the Church this means that there is no forbidden work.  There is no corner of human existence, however degraded or neglected, into which they may not venture; no person, however, beleaguered or possessed, whom they may not befriend and represent; no cause, however vain or stupid, in which they may not witness; no risk, however costly or imprudent, which they may not undertake.

This intimacy with the world as it is, this particular freedom, this awful innocence toward the world which a Christian is given, makes the Christian look like a sucker.  The Christian looks like that to others because she is engaged in the wholesale expenditure of her life. The Christian looks like that because she is without caution or prudence in preserving her own life.  She looks like that because she is not threatened by the power of death either over her own life or over the rest of the world. She looks like that because she is free to give her life -- to die -- imminently, today, for the sake of any one or anything at all, even for those or that which seems unworthy of her death, thereby celebrating the One who died for all though none be worthy, not even one.

A Christian is not distinguished by his political views, or moral decisions, or habitual conduct, or personal piety, or, least of all, by his churchly activities.  A Christian is distinguished by his radical esteem for the Incarnation -- to use the traditional jargon -- by his reverence for the life of God in the whole of Creation, even and, in a sense, especially, Creation in the travail of sin.

The characteristic place to find the Christian is among her enemies.
The first place to look for Christ is in Hell.  Thus the laity function as priests -- intercessors -- in the world.  And beyond these priestly duties, Stringfellow also assigns the laity the prophetic task:
The prophet is characteristically not priest and preacher, but layperson.  His task is to represent and expose the Word of God in the world, and particularly in the posture of the Word which stands over against the world's existence and the world's disregard of and arrogance toward the Word of God.  And sometimes his task is to declare and convey the Word of God as it stands over against the worldliness of the Church. 
Stringfellow goes on to also assign to the laity the task of apologetics:
Apologetics -- the defense and explication of the Gospel against the world's hostility to the Word of God -- accompanies the ordinary involvement of the laity in daily work and politics and business and culture.  No Christian can get by for very long in any kind of secular work or profession or activity without encountering the misconceptions which the world has about the Gospel, and without being exposed to the enmity which the world bears toward the Gospel.  To be silent in the face of such perversion of the faith or of such aggression against the faith is to become an accomplice ...  Each layperson must be her own apologist, responsible for her stewardship of the Gospel in her daily life and work.

... The Christian social witness is achieved only insofar as Christians are deeply implicated in the real life of society -- in unions and political clubs and citizen groups and the like ... Witness becomes possible only when the Christian is on the actual scene where the conflict is taking place, the decision is being made, the legislation is being enacted.  And finally, the laity also carry the burden of evangelism:

Evangelism consists of loving another human being in a way that represents the care of God ...
Stringfellow begins Chapter 3 -- "The Simplicity of the Christian Life" -- with his Incarnational refrain, that there is no division between the sanctuary and the world, the church and the marketplace, or the moral and the political. God is radically present and available in the world -- every part of the world, every part of your life and mine.  Knowing this is the basis of the "simplicity" of the Christian life:
The simplicity -- not ease -- but the simplicity of the Christian life is founded upon the fact of the presence of the Word of God already in the common life of the world.  The practice of the Christian life consists of the discernment of (the seeing and hearing), and the reliance upon (the reckless and uncalculating dependence), and the celebration (the ready and spontaneous enjoyment) of the presence of the Word of God in the common life of the world. 

Stringfellow begins with the task of discernment -- seeing and hearing the Word of God in the world.  The key skill is in knowing that God is to be found not just in the clean and beautiful but in the messy, broken and ugly.

The Word of God is present and evident not only in the world which seems to you or me or to somebody else good or true or clean or beautiful, but, to those who are not blind, the Word of God is also present and evident in the world which seems to you or me or another evil or false or filthy or ugly.  So it is that in all events, in every circumstance, and, at last, even in the face of death, God is here and may be known.  Knowing this the Christian can, and should, remain in all these dark places.  That's what makes the Christian life "simple."  Just stay in the mess you are currently in.  God's already there in the mess.  So you don't have to leave the mess to find God in a church.  You don't have to become "religious".  You simply have to discern the Word in the midst of the mess.  The simplicity of the Christian life is this, that Christians are free to live within the common life of the world, to live in the assurance and excitement of knowing that they live in the presence of God's Word, no matter where, no matter what. So how are we to locate and discern the Word of God in the world?

According to Stringfellow the activity of God is found in the victory of life in the midst of death's works, the power of the Resurrection.  The central sign of this victory is the freedom of the Christian to love in the face of death's power.
The power to discern God's presence in common life is imparted when one becomes a Christian, an event in which the power of the Word of God in one's own personal history is manifest over and over against the power of death. Then and thereafter the Christian lives in any and all events in reliance upon the presence of the Word of God. Then and thereafter the Christian lives to confront others, whatever their afflictions, with the news of God's care for the world. Then and thereafter the threat of our own eventual historic death holds no fear for us, for there is nothing which we will on that day experience which we have not already foretasted in the event of becoming a Christian, in the event of our surrender to the power of death and of our being being saved from that power by the presence of God. Then and thereafter we are free from the most elementary and universal bondage of humanity: the struggle to maintain and preserve, whatever the cost, our own existence against that of all others. Then and thereafter are we free to give our present life away, since our life is secure in the life of God. Having made this discernment, from a practical standpoint how is the Christian to celebrate the Word of God in the world? 

Stringfellow returns to his discussion in Chapter 2 regarding the priestly task of care, service and intercession for the sake of the world.
The image of Christian action in the world is that of the people of God living in dispersion in the world and in any corner of the world, finding trustworthy God's promise that He cares for all people and for every person.  Moreover, Christians are free in their dispersion to intercede for the cause of any individual -- even one who is said by others to be unworthy -- and thereby to represent in the world the intercession of Christ for all people -- even though none be worthy.  The image of Christian witness in the world is that of a people who have so completely divested themselves of their own individual self-interest that they may intercede -- stand in the place of, represent, advocate -- the cause of another, any other at all. 

And for Christians and their churches who refuse to do this, Stringfellow has a sharp prophetic rebuke:
Where the churches do not care for the world, they do not care for Christ.
Stringfellow opens the final chapter of A Private and Public Faith -- "The Fear of God" -- with a powerful idea:
The ministry of the Church as the Body of Christ in the world is the same as the ministry of Christ.  The ministry of Christ is the ministry of a servant in the world and for the world -- a servant of the world in the name of God. Like Christ the Christian is called to be "a servant in the world" and "a servant of the world in the name of God". 
What does that look like?  Stringfellow continues with one of those passages of his that routinely takes your breath away:
Perhaps it is helpful to notice a few things about the ministry of Christ.  One is that the ministry of Christ is a ministry of great extravagance -- of a reckless, scandalous expenditure of His life for the sake of the world's life.  Christ gives away His life.  The world finds new life in His life and His gift of His life to the world.  His is not a very prudential life, not a very conservative life, not a very cautious life, not -- by ordinary standards -- a very successful life.

He shunned no one, not even adulterers, not even tax collectors, not even neurotics and psychotics, not even those tempted to suicide, not even alcoholics, not even poor people, not even beggars, not even lepers, not even those who ridiculed Him, not even those who betrayed Him, not even His own enemies.  He shunned no one.

The words that tell of the ministry of Christ are words of sorrow, poverty, rejection, radical unpopularity.  They are words of agony.  It seems ridiculous to apply such words to the ministry of churches nowadays.  Yet where these words cannot be truthfully applied to the ministry of churches today they must then be spoken against the churches to show how far the churches are from being the Body of Christ engaged in the ministry of Christ in the world. 

Preach it, brother Stringfellow.

This willingness to endure "radical unpopularity" should characterize the life of the Christian.  A few lines later Stringfellow says this:
... the Christian is suspicious of respectability and moderation and success and popularity.  And this is so because the genius of the Christian life, both for a person and for the company of Christians, is the freedom constantly to be engaged in giving up its own life in order to give the world new life.
Later in the chapter he says this:
Prudence, the anxiety to conserve and preserve their own lives, rather than the freedom to expend their lives in the manner of the ministry of Christ, is the temper that prevails in the churches ...  The freedom of the church is to give up and expend its own life in order to give life to the world.
That'll preach as well.

Unpacking, Stringfellow goes on to make some interesting observations about how all this looks in practice.  Specifically, we shouldn't assume that this "giving life away" is an act of charity, of creating programs to feed and clothe the poor.  To be sure, that's a part of what will happen.  But these good works to aid the poor are secondary to the primary mission of the church. For if these social works do become primary for the church a couple of not-so-good things will happen.  First, the poor are treated as objects, as an abstraction.  "The poor" are reduced to the soup line that needs to get fed.  The focus of the church becomes the program -- the doing of the good deed -- and not on the poor, the forming of relationships with fellow human beings.  And this relates to a second problem.  If good works become primary the church loses its warrant for even being a church.  For the central mission of the church is the proclamation of the Gospel, telling the good news that life is at work in the midst of death.  The mission of the church is to live among the poor in order to name the activity of God in the midst of their lives.  Naming life where only death can be seen.  This relates to what Stringfellow said in Chapter 3, that the primary activity of the Christian in the world is the discernment of the Word of God at work in our lives.  As Stringfellow continues in Chapter 4:
The Church must trust the Gospel enough to come among the poor with nothing to offer the poor except the Gospel, except the power to discern and the courage to expose the Gospel as it is already mediated in the life of the poor.  And with that task is accomplished, once we are in relationship with the poor armed only with the ability to name God in the midst of their lives and ours, we will be equipped to use material resources in life-giving and life-affirming ways.
As Stringfellow says:
When the Church has the freedom to go out into the world with merely the Gospel to offer the world, then it will know how to use whatever else it has -- money and talent and buildings and tapestries and power in politics -- as sacraments of its gift of its own life to the world, as tokens of the ministry of Christ. 

So what does this sacramental life look like?

For Stringfellow one proxy is simply friendship.  In this chapter he describes his relationship (Stringfellow was living in a Harlem tenement at the time) with a boy addicted to narcotics.  Stringfellow discusses how various clergy and social workers had come to view this boy with suspicion, as a lost cause, as a waste of their time and effort.  And Stringfellow agrees that the boy probably is a lost cause from those pragmatic and programmatic perspectives.  And insofar as Stringfellow can help the boy he helps.  But his central concern is simply being a sacrament of life in the world of this boy.  To be a life-giving oasis.  To bring resurrection where only death is at work.  To being a friend.
He often visits me when he is free, and we have talked a lot together.  I am not aware that I have ever told him that he has a bad and costly and very debilitating habit.  He knows that better than I do.  And while he and I have talked about how his habit might be controlled or even cured, our relationship is not contingent upon his breaking his addiction.  Acceptance of another person is acceptance of the other as he is, without entailing any demands that he change in any empirical way.  This boy is an addict, and while I would rejoice if he were freed from this affliction, that would not change or increase my acceptance of him as a person.  And though I am not an addict, that makes me no better nor worse than he.  I am not his judge.  I am just his friend.
And that, according to Stringfellow, is the central and primary witness of the Christian in the world.

The sacrament of friendship.