St. Bartholomew's Episcopal Church

Recently, a well-respected bible scholar, Anne Redding, an Episcopal priest, declared herself a Muslim. She did not renounce Christianity, but her affirmations have caused some confusion in the blogosphere.

I think I can understand some of the pastoral considerations she has. It seems that she has been involved in a Muslim community and has found that prayer life particularly useful. I have been moved, myself, from prayers by other traditions. I am moved, however, because they help me understand my experience better, and I already have some semblance of an identity as a Christian. Perhaps this is the problem: if Christianity is a religion that renounces identity, except as a friend of God and Jesus, then to identify as anything else makes no sense. Surely one who is a friend of God can also be a friend of Muslims, but this, to me, still sounds like a statement someone who follows the Gospel might make.

I don't think that her decision makes much practical sense. Islam and Christianity have differences, differences that have been mitigated only by the theological intuitions of liberal Christianity. That she calls Christianity a world religion of privilege, for example, seems like the sort of thing a first year freshman in college would say. It assumes that victims never have the agency to transform the patterns of religion they are given.

A few questions: if one has been formed as a Christian, what do her prayers feel like? I have myself prayed in a Mosque, but also found myself ending with the Lord's prayer. I am dissatisfied that there is little ritual activity aside from prayer and discussion at a Friday service. The imam's words might be interesting, and the prayer justified, but it seems incomplete. I recognize that this is simply from my own limited, but sufficient, perspective.

Her comment about the trinity - that the trinity is simply a metaphor - diminishes its usefulness. Theologically, the trinity is an attempt to discern the problem of a suffering God. Simply put, if there is a God, and God is Good, God suffers. The cross is a historical event that continues to play out in history. The trinity posits suffering in a cooperative framework that allows for suffering to be redeemed through loving relationships. Islamic theology finds the idea of a suffering God confused. My view is that if God is not suffering in this world, God is irrelevant or insane.

I also wonder how she abandons modern Christianity, which has framed itself in a reflective, liberal, humanistic camp. Her ability to consider apostasy without being condemned to death is a direct consequence of liberal Christianity. Will she interpret the sacred scriptures of Islam with the same liberality? Will she wear the veil? Will she worship with men? How should a Muslim understand her ordination?

I am also confused why she decided not to examine, the Bahai tradition as a more interesting place to reflect upon her own faith.

While she discerns her theological stance, she should willingly allow for a temporary suspension of her ordination. I think dialogue between faiths is important. I think she may have some gifts to offer. But she has demonstrated that she cannot teach the faith with the committment that the church requires. I suggest she read Schubert Ogden's book Is There One True Religion or Are There Many and Zizek's On Belief to begin thinking through her intuitions. Ogden helps clarify the power of grace in any true religion; and Zizek dissembles other faiths with some creativity. They are powerful thinkers with whom to reflect upon faith.

Unlike conservatives, who are generally foaming at the mouth, I simply want to understand what is going on. Her experience of both faiths is, in my view, one of a liberal. It is neither one of Christianity or Islam. That might pivot on if she thinks God suffers in the world, or if God is first God of Laws, as the Muslims believe.

She might, also, just be getting tired of privileged white people. If anything, it sounds like she needs to take a break from that clueless, carefree, world.

This I understand. I am familiar with the sentiment, and sometimes it is justified. It is not, however, a faith.