Conservatives tend to promote orthodoxy (right belief). Progressives/Liberals tend to promote orthopraxy (right behavior). That polarity, of course, is simplistic. But it highlights in stark contrast that Christianity largely wants to privilege the head. That is, for most Christians, our faith is a "head trip", a mental checklist for getting the right ideas boxed up (theological conservatives), or the right behaviors like social justice (theological liberals) lined up.
And both, at their cores, have an element of truth. But -- and here's the kicker -- they aren't enough.
Here's why.
Christianity isn't rooted in the head. It's rooted in affective, narrative epistemic practice. Christian faith isn't a head trip. It's rooted in the heart and traffics in the stuff of story.
And lest someone misunderstand me, I'm not promoting anti-intellectualism in a religious guise. Christian faith isn't antirational but rather is a critique ofexcessive rationalism.
It's like Pascal once said: The heart has ways of knowing that the head knows nothing about.
I've seen all this play out in my own life. My faith, such as it was, was very cerebral, rationalistic, intellectual, and propositional after seminary. But when I encountered the depth of Christian faith in local churches, I quickly realized how stunted and limited this rationalism was.
I'd look at my brothers and sisters and say to myself, "I have a PhD. I have written lots of articles. But these people know something about the faith, about God and Jesus, that I know nothing about". Intellectually, I knew many things. But on another level I didn't know a thing. Despite my intellect and education I felt like a child among spiritual adults.
This is why I describe Christianity as an "epistemic practice". It's a way of knowing.
Modern psychology has pointed out to us that our emotions often function as pre-cognitive filters in how we interpret and ascribe meaning to the world. Emotions, in many ways, are primary. Cognition is often secondary, given the task of making sense of the emotional data. You have to explain to yourself, in a post hoc fashion, why you feel the way you do. You have to "make sense" of your feelings. If our emotions construe the world before and more often than our intellectual, cognitive perceptions, then the shape of our emotions makes our world most of the time -- in which case, discipleship would be more a matter of training our emotions than of changing our minds.
This is a pretty important insight. Emotions make our world. And if emotions make our world then attending to the emotions is a critical, perhaps even the central, task of Christian discipleship. Discipleship is more a matter of training our emotions than of changing our mind.
That's why I think any account of Christian faith must leave room for orthopathy as well as orthodoxy and orthopraxy.
And that's been an important shift for me.
When progressive folks -- some of my best friends -- think of Christian faith in social justice terms, they don't, as a rule, think of praying, fasting, and worshiping, the practices of what David Kelsey has called doxological gratitude, which I consider to be key to the formation of a loving, Christ-like spirit.
This is why, in my estimation, many progressive Christians, despite their focus on social justice, still struggle with being kind, gentle, forgiving and loving human beings. If you aren't attending to the affections in your pursuit of social justice you're prone to becoming harsh, angry and judgmental. Or just burnt out. Joy rather than righteous indignation has to be what carries you forward.
This lack of attention to the practices of doxological gratitude is also why I think progressive Christians chronically struggle with spiritual dryness, listlessness and cynicism.
The same, by the way, works for those who enforce orthodoxy as the key to being a Christian. They insist that getting all the ideas right will ultimately transform, but in my experience it only serves to highlight doubts. Which lead to dejection and dryness.
Both, by the way, bring a related problem, the role of the church. The practices of doxological gratitude, the rituals that shape our affections, are often practiced corporately. That is, when these folks think of "right practice" or "right belief" they don't often think of the practice of the church and tend to think in isolation. Because, on the surface, there's not a lot going on at the church that has anything to do with social justice or ideas. And that's true. But as I've come to see how the practices of doxological gratitude in worship, which privileges the emotions, are shaping my affections and, thus, fueling and supporting my interests in social justice and thinking Christianly. Orthopathy is supporting orthopraxy and orthodoxy.
In short, by eschewing the church and the practices of doxological gratitude I think we've often failed to attend to the heart. To be clear, these Christians are amazing theologians. In the pews they may be the best theologians in all of Christianity. But theological sophistication can be a trap. It trapped me. In my head.
The heart has ways of knowing that the head knows nothing about.