Abstract
Full disclosure: James Calvin Davis and I belong to the same political, denominational, and theological tribes. We are both liberals. We are both affiliated with the mainline branch of the Presbyterian Church and, in fact, with the same local judicatory (I have heard him speak in our presbytery, though we have never had a conversation). I was a founder of an organization (the Covenant Network) and a member of a working group (the Presbyterian theological task force “on the peace, unity and purity of the church”), both of which Davis cites as examples of his hopes for church life.
Most important, we have virtually identical ecclesiologies. We both place a very high value on the unity of the church. We believe that diversity and disagreement in the church are not only inevitable but the will of God, “a positive force” (p. 16), says Davis. Disagreement and even conflict are conditions amid which we are called to testify to and confess the “love, neighborliness, and unity” (p. 5) that are ours in Jesus Christ. Davis argues in this book, as I have elsewhere, that forbearance, bearing with other Christians with whom we have deep differences while at the same time expressing our own deep convictions, is good for us. Our opponents correct our excesses and can save us from self-righteousness. Such forbearance and the example of unity in diversity that it provides are, in the rare instances that the church achieves them, its most powerful form of witness to a murderously divided world.
Davis’s approach to his theme is basically Aristotelian, through the virtues. Forbearance is funded by “biblically rooted virtues” (p. 132) such as patience, humility, generosity, wisdom, intelligence, imagination, empathy, discernment, faithfulness, and trust. It is also an opportunity to develop those virtues, which add up to Christian character. Davis makes an especially powerful case for friendship as the posture that, by grace, makes forbearance possible. He rejects the classic dichotomizing of the Greek terms philia and agape and argues for an expansive view of friendship as an affinity that may include personal affection, but does not have to, and that can be extended under some circumstances to those we have not actually met.
Davis’s text is not perfect. It is hard to discern the intended audience for the book. At some points Davis seems to be addressing the undergraduates he teaches, explaining, for instance, who Dietrich Bonhoeffer was. But only clergy or very well read laity are likely to make their way through the extensive elaborations of biblical virtues that are the core of volume. The tone is uneven. Theologically serious expositions are larded with colloquial contemporary references and conversational asides. Some of these date the author (e.g., expressing the doctrine of the sovereignty of God in terms used four decades ago on Saturday Night Live—“God is God and we are not” [p. 29]); others, such as references to Black Lives Matter with no explanation, will puzzle future readers. There are some inconsistencies in the argument. Do Christian forbearance and friendship extend to biblical literalists? Davis says that “Christian theology has never understood the Bible simply as divine dictation”(p. 42) and that we need to “move on from outdated cosmologies” (p. 72) based on literal readings. (That statement would exclude members of Davis’s own presbytery who have made the case to me for Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch). Later, however, he cites creationist views that have little “enthusiasm for Darwinian science” (p. 133) as perspectives to be understood and labored with patiently, in a spirit of forbearance. And the usefulness of the book would have been greatly expanded if examples from Roman Catholicism and evangelical Protestantism had been included. Both are as riddled with internecine strife as the mainline Protestant denominations that are Davis’s exclusive source of illustration.
Despite these limitations, this is a very valuable book. Davis is a fluent writer, and he makes a powerful case for a perspective that is highly unpopular with both liberal activists and ardent conservatives but that they need to hear: The causes they advocate will be served, not corrupted, if they bear with their opponents, instructing them and learning from them, and if they refrain from breaking away from church bodies in which their opponents have influence. There is an epidemic of schism these days, not only in mainline Protestantism, but even in the evangelical world, which has long been divided into hundreds of denominational and non-denominational shards. Indeed, some predict that the profound divisions in contemporary Roman Catholicism portend some kind of fracture.
The pattern of splitting is the same across a wide range of faith traditions. One party, liberal or conservative, withdraws in a state of high dudgeon to create a bastion of certain opinion surrounded by a deep ideological moat. The departing group tends to think of itself as righteous without remainder and, truth to tell, so often do those who remain, now that there are no dissenters to tell them otherwise. This process of constant division, which mirrors developments in nation-states and other social institutions, is, Davis passionately insists, directly contrary to Jesus’s hope and prayer “that all may be one” (John 17:20–23), and Davis provides much-needed arguments for unity as the faithful way.
Davis’s book is a gift not only to those tempted to walk out, but also to members of his own party, those of us who hope that our opponents will stay and work with us for the unity of the church. By so competently laying out the argument for forbearance and the unity it underwrites, Davis enables his allies to engage in an activity he urgently commends as an exercise in humility: critically examining our own position to pinpoint its oversights and errors. Here are some questions and doubts that Davis’s careful presentation of ecclesiological convictions that I share has raised in me.
Does doctrine matter? The possible causes of church division that Davis names are almost all matters of morality. Using his home Congregationalist church, which has worked hard to welcome participants with Unitarian and agnostic leanings, as a positive example, he seems willing to accommodate a very wide range of beliefs. This willingness is grounded in a view of biblical faith as “the habit of trusting and relying on God” (p. 90) and the way of Jesus rather than as assent to theological propositions. Davis’s take on faith is the majority view in the forbearance contingent and among most liberals: Disagreement about social issues is a greater threat not only to unity but also to faithfulness than theological error. That stance seems to me to sell doctrine quite short. The theologian Charles Wood once said that doctrines are statements that do something. “Jesus is Lord,” for instance, firmly establishes who and what is not ultimate. I wonder whether my unity-seeking colleagues and I should delve somewhat deeper into the treasury of classic doctrines to find the anchors for our social values and perhaps some common confessional ground with those who disagree with us.
What are the limits of forbearance? Davis raises this question several times, but his answers are tentative and general. With respective to the spectrum of opinions, he suggests that Christians “do not need to entertain” (p. 172) explicitly sexist, racist, and homophobic views, though implicit ones on these subjects may be worth bearing with. Other, overarching statements seem to suggest that nothing and no one is outside the ambit of forbearance. We should, Davis says, “stick with our friends even when they are tragically wrong in their convictions and actions as a testament to our hope for them” (p. 197). In one sense, that is right—even the worst offenders are loved by God and candidates for redemption—but surely some specificity is needed. People who injure others without meaning to need to be restrained; those who do so with intent have to be punished. Defining harm to others as forgivable sin (the position of church leaders, for instance, who have shielded abusers) rather than wrongful act with consequences undermines the case for forbearance. Davis and the rest of us need to be much clearer about which ideas and actions demand responses beyond the respectful listening and patient teaching we so often recommend.
Who forbears? Davis raises this question himself: Does forbearance “look good” only to the privileged, to those who have “nothing to lose” (p. 166) by waiting a long time for truth and justice to triumph? There is only one way to answer that question decisively: Ask those who are seriously injured or impoverished by religious bias and bigotry how they and we are called to proceed. This book is a major contribution to the project of unity, but if the church is ever to achieve the peace and luminous faith to which it is called, we will need those whom it has treated shamefully to lead the way.