One of the more striking themes in the responses to the Rapture Factor was the assumption that a) I’m ignorant of or spiteful towards Christianity, and b) my comments smear all Christians, because c) I live in an echo-chamber that doesn’t engage with Christian worldviews.

This was a bit confusing to me at first, since I explicitly referenced a constellation of moral, political and cultural values. My comments were not about Christians or conservatives per se, but a specific combination of beliefs drawing from (but not identical with) these and other roots. And then, I remembered that for some people, all moral-political-cultural questions are filtered through their particular religious confession. Another way to say this is that some people look at all question through a single lens. And in the case of most of my commentators, that lens seems to be a particularly conservative brand of Christianity. Of course, I see the world through a set of lenses (yes, plural lenses), so a bit of autobiography seems in order.

I’m both familiar and positively disposed to Christianity (alongside other religions). Whether or not you believe in supernaturalism, most religions contain a set of admirable ethical teachings. I’m agnostic about a Creator, and respect other people’s beliefs in this regard. I do make a strong distinction between people’s faith in God generally, as opposed to the more specific moral, political and cultural beliefs their God is said to underwrite. For instance, some of my most valued teachers, workmates and friends are ‘born-again’. The experience has been valuable for them, transforming their lives for the better, and I’ll not gainsay it. I’ve had partners who are Christian, some born-again evangelicals, and I’ve not only enjoyed learning about their spiritual beliefs, but felt honoured by their trust. It was clear to them that I would not demean their religious convictions. That doesn’t mean, of course, that all beliefs labeled evangelical (or otherwise) need to be affirmed. The bigoted attitude of *some* evangelicals (and other confessions) towards gay marriage is disappointing, and should not go uncontested. This doesn’t mean such people hold their beliefs about alternative sexualities with malicious intent (although we can clearly make an exception here for demagogues). What it does mean is their beliefs still need to face the acid tests of reason, evidence and their impact on the well-being of people, animals and nature.

I was fortunate to be raised in the pluralistic tradition of Unitarian-Universalism. My Dad is a UU minister, my mum a longstanding UU member, and for a time I considered becoming a UU minister myself. UUism is perhaps the first apostasy of Christianity, was deeply influenced by Roman Catholicism, Protestantism, Quakerism, Enlightenment science, political secularism, and the Ethical Culture movement. In UUism, a diversity of theological perspectives is not seen as a threat, but as a source of inspiration. It is one reason the faith’s symbol is the flaming chalice — the light of truth. Alongside the Quakers, perhaps no other Protestant denomination has been as active in promoting peace and social justice. Throughout their history, UUs have defended a pluralist approach to moral and spiritual teachings — even for those fundamentalists who would impose their notion of truth on others. Today, UUs are comprised of feminist pagans, ecumenical Christians and secular humanists (amongst others). Somehow, despite theological disagreements, it hangs together as a community of faith. This may be hard for some religionists to understand, but I’m not trying to justify this tradition so much as share my own background.

Indeed, religion and its relationship to ethics, culture and politics has been an abiding interest of mine. My undeclared minor in college was religious studies, with a focus on prophetic and social gospel traditions. [Yes, I have read TNK, Bible and Koran cover to cover.] My interest in ethics, environmental studies and political geography as a graduate student made explicit room for religious points of view. In addition to my Mum and Dad, the persons of greatest influence in my life were often Christian, or in positive dialogue with Christianity — my grandmum, Tawney, Mulford Sibley, Robert Ross, Ron Engel. Some of these influences are more historical — Amos, Micah, Hosea, Isaiah, James, Gandhi, Martin Luther King. [There are also secular influences, but I’m not trying to weigh their relative importance here. I don’t think I could.]

As for living in an echo chamber, that’s rather funny. Through conversations, conferences, media interviews and the like, I routinely speak with thousands of people each year. They come from a wide diversity of backgrounds and beliefs. The subject of spirituality, and its relationship to ethics, is paramount to their concerns. Indeed, it motivates many of the questions and challenges that are shared with me, to which I do my best to respond and honour. Frankly, it is not my interest or practice to diminish another persons spiritual beliefs. Rather; I seek to encourage people to evaluate their beliefs and behaviours in light of their impact (for good or ill) upon the world.

It’s unfortunate that some folks interpret ethical critique as a smear against a person or a group. I know their are philosophers, theologians, polititians and others that use ethics to shame or diminish others. I regret and reject that practice, and please believe me that this is not my intention in either substance or appearance. And having outlined a bit of my background, perhaps this will help others move from a reactive ‘defense’ of their chosen beliefs, to a proactive assessment of the impact those beliefs are having on the human and natural worlds.

Cheers, Bill