Our lives are largely transactional. Obviously in the marketplace: I receive goods and services in exchange for money. In a more interpersonal way, all communities function in part as a gift economy, in which goods or services are given with the expectation that the receiver will give back someday. For example, one of my primary job functions is to write grant proposals, often in collaboration with other professors. If I am willing to help Prof. X with their proposal today, then perhaps Prof. X will help with mine next month or next year. Over time, we develop relationships that have grace and mutual understanding, but transactions undergird the relationships.
The church historically has translated worldly transactional relationships into the spiritual realm. For example, in some traditions, one must tithe (give one-tenth of one’s income) in order to be considered a full participant in the religious community. The Roman Catholic practice of confession, penance, and absolution is a fairly clear transaction: you tell the priest what you did, he tells you what you need to do, and then you are restored to full relationship with God. The evangelical understanding is surprisingly similar, except that it only happens once: you pray the sinner’s prayer, and you are restored to full relationship with God.
Recently I watched a surprisingly detailed video by Phil Vischer (of Veggie Tales fame) called, What is an “Evangelical”? If you haven’t watched it, I highly recommend it as a way to understand modern conservative Christianity. Vischer notes that most modern Christians are evangelical in the 18th century sense, which is why the most liberal Lutheran denomination in America is the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). The evangelical movement, dating to the Great Awakening, grew out of an interpretation of John 3:3:
3 Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”
John 3:3
Being a Christian required a personal decision to follow Jesus, not simply being born into a Christian family. Logically, this led to the modern concept of the sinner’s prayer.
The Great Awakening, though, followed two centuries after the Reformation. John Calvin was the father of Reformed theology. This is a particular branch that emerged during the Reformation that, in the US, is primarily represented by Presbyterian denominations (including PC(USA), of which I am a member), Dutch Reformed denominations such as RCA, and German Reformed denominations including the United Church of Christ. In one of Calvin’s foundational writings (his Institutes of the Christian Religion), he taught that each worship service should begin with a corporate prayer of confession. That is, Calvin taught that the minister should pray on behalf of the whole assembly, asking forgiveness of the sins of the whole body, after which he should assure the congregation of God’s pardon through Jesus Christ.
In essence, Calvin’s argument was that we are not only personally sinful, but sinful as a group—as a community, as a nation, as a species. (I can’t quite get on board with his doctrine of total depravity, though.) It is important to make a conscious, hopefully-one-time decision to follow Jesus. It is important to regularly confess your own personal sin, and ask God’s forgiveness, confident in receiving forgiveness and reconciliation. But that is not sufficient.
23 So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister[a] has something against you, 24 leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister,[b] and then come and offer your gift. 25 Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court[c] with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison.
Matthew 5:23-25
God’s Law is about building God’s kingdom, both now and in the age to come. When I break that Law, I not only sin against God, but also sin against God’s children. So I need to ask forgiveness not only from God, but also from the person who has been wronged.
Calvin understood, though, that we are connected in a community, and what one person does affects all of us. So I need to seek forgiveness not only for my own sins, but also for the sinfulness of my community, my nation, my species.
For example, I have not personally killed anyone. However, I am part of a nation that deploys military around the world in ways that result in the deaths of the innocent. Whether or not the military actions are justified, we all should seek God’s forgiveness for our part in those deaths. But just as much, we need to seek forgiveness from the nations that we have ravaged, from the families who have lost loved ones, and so forth.
In the same way, I have not personally excommunicated anyone who is gay, nor have I defrocked a pastor who officiated a gay wedding. I have not supported ex-gay ministries or otherwise actively diminished the contributions of the LGBTQ community. I am a member of a welcoming congregation in a denomination that ordains gay pastors. And yet, I am the inheritor of a legacy of discrimination. As an individual, I seek forgiveness for the small part I have played in supporting all of these discriminatory actions. As a congregation, denomination, and religion, we all need to seek forgiveness from God and from those who have been hurt, directly and indirectly, by our actions over several decades.
As the sinner, I do not have the right to say, “Let’s just move on.” I—we—must ask the LGBTQ community to forgive the evil that has been done in Christ’s name, so that they can tell us they are willing to reconcile.
In the same way, I am the inheritor of the legacy of colonialism. I have not personally forced any Native Americans off their land, nor have I personally enslaved any Africans. That doesn’t change the fact that I benefit as a citizen of the nation that was built through these and other evil acts. Again, I, and we all, must ask these aggrieved communities for their forgiveness and allow them to take the lead in reconciliation.